Oridis feet dangled precariously off the sides of the sloping roof as she rested against the sturdy forms of the watching statues, admiring their intricate details and lifelike design. The small set was of a horse growing, it had five depictions of the mighty steed as it aged from youth to prime. The set was beautiful and unique, each still a captured moment of a real living being.
She didn’t know why she was obsessing over them, just that something in her mind kept drawing attention to them. The line of statues slowly growing in height were positioned equally on the other corners of the roof, and each showed a different species of the creatures. Each unique, each a near-living still, and in their conspicuity they became inconspicuous. Unity in chaos, the restraining of conformity.
With a sigh she lowered her head back and closed her eyes, enjoying the distant sounds of revelry from the city proper. With only the moon above offering light, and that too was hidden away this night behind clouds, the thin film of fog that would rise most nights gave an incandescent glow. It reminded her of the mornings along the outer peaks with Hargis, so many years ago.
“Hargis” She whispered. The name brought back the pains of unhealed wounds and tried to drive a spike of anger into her mind. So much had happened in so short a time, and now years had passed.
Would he remember me? She thought Would he recognize this form as me, or has it been too long. Perhaps he’d never cared anyway, and he knew i was just leading us towards death. Oridi let out a short, hollow chuckle Leading towards death. I do that alot now on my own.
She thought back to her first day in the city only one week ago, it felt like months now. Captured and beaten in the morning, beaten and dragged into Old Town in the early afternoon, killed her captor and joined a mysterious group bent on assassinating the Count in the evening. By all accounts it was a busy day. A busy and strange day. She thought And I made mistake after mistake all day, its a miracle i’m alive with how stupid I was.
Charging headlong into an adversaries lair was not usually a strong starting point, without anyone to help made the prospect doubly so. So why had she tried? What did she think was going to accomplish that others hadn’t?
Because you need to know A voice whispered, her mothers words tinkled through her mind You have to know what happened. He was there, he knows something
A flash of pain drove a hand to Oridis head and she bit back a yelp. A cold slab of metal, undless stabs of pain and the feelings of living creatures swarming through her restrained form. Names, Philistine, Eldrid, Coeness, Arne… others came too but the pain was too much and it muddled the thoughts. Her heart was threatening to burst and a cold sweat dripped from her chin. Then it was gone… and the memories faded back into their forced isolation.
Oridi breathed deep the cool air and tried desperately to calm her racing heart. The thoughts of those days were intense and threatened to overtake her if she wasn’t careful. Those horrible days in that cell, on that table…
She shivered. No, that wasn’t her life anymore, and it hadn’t been for over a decade. She had lived, she and the other six of her “family”, they’d been the successful batch and got the special job. They got to be the personal spies of the King, they learned to fight and how to best use their “given” power. They were taught to be the myth of the changeling.
It didn’t matter how hard she tried to forget them, or rebelled against the feelings of comfort that training brought, they always clung to her with ease. They were her, her formative years of this cursed body, and “they” had been Oridis family. They knew her, they knew the struggle and the pains, they even could sympathize with the deepest fears that plagued Oridis mind; and when the time had come to turn against her they never hesitated.
But that didn’t matter now. She was going to find out who forced this body upon her and use them to find the traitorous bastards, then she’d get the answer as to why. She could finally know why they did it so easily, she could have closure as she killed them.
It’s a good goal she could hear her father say Worthy of your stolen talents, even you shouldn’t be able to fail with something so simple. Yet I think you may still struggle, how sad.
“Shut up!” She screamed. The night ignored her, unphased by the outburst.
Even now after all this time she could still hear their chastising, their mocking, she felt the disappointment in her actions and decisions. After all, she had failed hadn’t she? She tried to break in and kill a man; fail. She’d tried to blend in with the town after killing a guard; fail. She’d given her real name at a moments notice and followed a complete stranger; that one was the major sticking point. The idea of being “Lia”, the Tsenian woman she portrayed currently, had come naturally in the moment, but she hadn’t thought of changing her name at all!
It didn’t matter, obviously, she was a changeling and “real” names were a luxury that only real people could enjoy. She’d been given that one, and she cherished it, but ultimately it was nothing to a person who lived the lives of others. It was a window dressing, an ornate curtain rod covered by any myriad of drape.
Worse still was her acceptance into this band of mysterious, possibly fake, people with a desire to kill the Count and the apparent resources to plan an attempt. And she’d just accepted?! Just sauntered in with a complete stranger who tracked her to a tavern! In the most decrepit section of the city no less. Then there was the team. A “noble”, a guard, a blacksmith apprentice, a medic of some sort, and a… she didn’t actually know what Mogti was. The woman was massive and held the body of a warrior, but that could anything at this point.
She didn’t seem like a bad person, of course most don’t but still…
And what in all of this chaos was their plan! It was as intangible as the idea of killing the Count, all they had was a group of unrelated vagabonds with no connection to each other and no idea of how to complete their improbable task, and she was to pretend to be an illusionist from an Academy now too? It didn’t make sense, none of it made sense. Why had she chosen to do this? Had that boy, Albert, done something to her with magic? But no that wouldn’t be right, her mind would have at least felt the attempt.
“Oridi!” A voice called from below, it was Khokke. He was situated between the bodies of Mogti and Ihigi. Ihigi seemed uninterested in his companions calling, but Mogti waved in assistance to the man. “What are you doin?”
Doing? Oridi thought What for?
“Enjoying the roof.” She said.
“Come drink.” Mogti shouted “We need four, these two are Myukdis.”
“What?” Oridi asked, standing from her position. “How so?” Mogti had called the pair essentially lazy cowards, it was usually talk that would cause a brawl in ordinary peak or valley taverns, but instead the pair stood shifting their weight. The absence of a response drew a smile to Oridis face, she had an idea of what was planned now. “They don’t want to challenge you one-on-one anymore, do they?”
“Like Mogti said, Myukdis.” Mogti puffed her chest out “want make it fair.”
“But the lulk won’t accept a one-on-two, says-” Ihigi was interrupted by a confident Mogti
“Make you look more like Myukdis.” Mogit finished.
“Come on,” Khokke added “We bet good Sen.”
He was trying to get her participation with the prospect of greed that was clever as tactics for thieves went, if a bit obvious. Oridi rolled her shoulders and left out a held breath, she liked the peace of the night but it caused her to think too much, and that was something she desperately didn’t want to do right now.
Oridi pulled on her well of energy and tried to focus the power onto her legs, strengthening the muscle and bone of the current form, then stepped off the roof. The cobblestone raced to meet her feet, and she landed with a soft plop onto the stone. She erased the thought and let the stream ebb away once more, flowing back into wherever her connection came from.
“Sure, I could use a drink.” Oridi said.
Oridi was surrounded on all sides by a swaying tower of tankards and cheering spectators when she finally felt the cup in her hand thud against the wood of the table. Two… no three Mogtis sat to Oridis left, they were draining one each and readying another in their free hands. Across the table she could see a group of… no… the number couldn’t be right. Two Ihigis were passed out on the table, slumped over a pooling amber liquid spilling from their own pile of tankards, and three Khokkes were wobbling back as they nursed the drink in their fist.
“Yer ‘ot gunn’ win,” Khokke slurred. The Mogtis let out an echoing belch that filled the room and drew a wave of cheers from the enraptured onlookers.
“So Myukdi say.”
“Whaz…” Oridi tried to form a sentence to convey her bewilderment at the number of friends she now had, but the thought wouldn’t connect. The thread she was following seemed to frey and split.
“No worry.” Mogti said, triumphant grin plastered on the many faces of the woman, “Mogti sure to win.”
“No Mogti wn’t” Khokke offered, slamming the empty drink as best he could. The effect was less than stellar, and Oridi watched through blurry vision as the four bodies of Khokke slipped back off their seat and spilled the contents of the tankard over themselves.
The crowd of spectators cheered so loudly that Oridi forced her hands over her ears, praying to the Goddess that the bastards could quiet down just the tiniest bit. The Mogtis stood with raised arm, victorious shouts of glee erupting from her. One of the Mogtis, the one that seemed to be most detailed, wretched Oridi from her bench and threw her atop a burly shoulder. Oridi wobbled and clung to the womans head with all the strength she could muster as the apparent winner forced her teammate into the action. Whirling around the crowd Oridi could see the faces of the cheering people and tried to give an appreciatory wave, but the movements of her seat on Mogtis shoulder forced her to falter.
“Mogti!” Oridi cried. The woman ignored her desperate plea for attention, instead she became encompassed in a cacophony of voices chanting the Res’ name.
Oridi could barely make out the faces of people shouting as she was spun, but their screams of joy forced a a conformity on her mind. For a moment she saw the face of Hargis and relaxed, he was probably just watching and waiting for her to be finished. Thats what he always did when she got this drunk, let her drink until he had to carry her away. She tried to spot the short grizzled face again but found that none existed in the crowd, he’d probably gone to pay her tab.
Tears fell from her cheeks as she smiled, she was crying now. Was she happy? Sad? That wouldn’t be right, nothing had happened. Oridi scanned the crowd feeling an urge to find someone, some face she’d just thought off. She tried to form the picture in her mind again but nothing came. Had she been looking for someone? Had someone done something to catch her attention? No one came to mind, but a feeling of emptiness emerged when she prodded.
Mogti placed Oridi back onto the bench and began to drink with the spectators challenger her, apparently the Mogtis hadn’t won enough yet. That was fine, Oridi was well and drunk, and the bench felt so comfortable… and her eyes felt so heavy… Why was I crying? Oridi focused on that sole thought as her mind faded away into the cheers and blur.
“...di.” Someone was calling her. Oridi ignored the voice and floated in her sea of void, drifting in the dark as a weightless being. Nothing moved, nothing stirred, motion an abstract thought in the emptiness around. It was peaceful, so quiet, no one to bother her. She was safe alone, here she could watch all sides and didn’t have to pretend, she didn’t have to worry about people hurting her when she was alone.
“..ridi” The voice called again. She pushed it away. If she refused it the thought would leave. She could remain in this peace and rest, she could finally feel safe now. No one trying to kill her, no one tracking her movements. No orders to kill, no instructions to lie. Oridi could simply be.
“Oridi!” Khokkes voice drove a spike of light through the void she swam in. Suddenly the void she had been weightless in began to fall, dragging her down with it. Oridi panicked and reached out for anything to grip, something to stop her increasing descent. Nothing was there. Her weight feel present again, in fact it felt like it was increasing. She could hear the screaming of wind rushing past her ears and tears welling in her eyes as the bright floor of light rushed ever faster to meet her. She was going to crash through it. She was going to splatter against it, she would die from the force. She didn’t have enough time to-
“Wake up.”
Oridi blinked, surprised to find a new void of light as her surroundings. She couldn’t see, or she could but everything was so bright that it hurt to look. She forced the tears form her eyes and rubbed the pain that was now spilling from her head. She must have hit the ground hard from her fall, after all it had been so far, right?
“Good, you’re awake. Come, eat. It is morning already.”
Memories of a rooftop perch ang glowing fog bubbled up, her mind felt hazy and sluggish but the realization that no, she had not in fact fallen but had been dreaming, slowly washed the confusion away. She had drank too much, Mogti had won if she remembered right. That was of little surprise, she had beaten the pair on their first night, what chance had they had?
“Morning…” Oridi muttered.
“Noon.” Khokke said “Come sick one, you need to eat
Hargis pushed through the doors in the rear of the Drunken Mountain, the tavern he frequented to deliver ale and drink away annoyances. Sure, his home was good for that too, but the company was so numerous sometimes that he could only find peace in the noise of strangers. He didn’t know why that had become the case in his youth Hargis had found peace in robbing nobles and sleeping his way through every town, but now…
“Ho Hargis, ready te depart?” A rose cheeked youth sat atop an empty flat-back wagon affixed with two sturdy horses. The boy's scale-hound sat in the empty rear of the wagon, sidling as close to the boy as it could. The matte tan of its many plates of bone gave a scrape as it turned to face Hargis.
“Yes, I believe we are Gweller.” Hargis looked to the hound. “Kept a good eye on him this time?”
Gweller nodded emphatically, “Yes sir. Didn’t leave my sight once.”
Hargis nodded his understanding and pulled himself up the notched ladder affixed for the shorter races, once seated he took the reins from Gweller and quickly gave his thanks. The boy's mother, Hargis second sister, had begged he take him along on the trip in to town. She wanted the boy to see a life outside the vine and banditry, and if he was honest with himself, Hargis agreed. Thieving wasn’t a sustainable way to live, and it wouldn’t be a good way to make an earning for a family.
Hargis gave the Scale-hound, named Torel after the boy's Grandfather, a scratch beneath its chin in one of the few open spots. The creature turned into the gesture happily and wagged its plated tail against the wood. When he finished and returned to the road, he heard the hound whine.
“You spoil him.” Gweller said. He laughed and mimicked the actions of his Uncle.
“Ah, just as well.” Hargis said, “Spoil the lot of you if i’m not careful, though I don’t think Hellena minds too much.”
“Speaking of, she was very upset when you went with that crew for the raid. The whole village heard her yelling.”
Hargis grunted his acknowledgement and whipped the horses into movement. Hellena had done more than just scream. When the group returned, and she had heard of their actions, she nearly kicked the man out to live in the fields. She’d have been right to. He thought I shouldn’t have gone
“Is it true you met a Pere?” The boy's eyes were wide with excitement at the words. Clearly the prospect of meeting a Soldier of the Empire was impressive.
Hargis grunted, “Aye, two for that matter.”
“TWO?” Gweller yelped, “And you all survived?”
“Survived isn’t the word. More to say that one of the Peres’ talked us out of dying.”
“They would have killed you?”
“Well,” Hargis scratched the chin that rested beneath his beard, “If it had just been the one, I think we’d have been fine. He didn’t seem too keen on the fighting, think maybe he's a weak one. Got through on connection and not talent.”
“But the stories say that every Pere could kill at least a dozen men in combat.” Gweller spoke the words with near reverence.
Hargis scoffed. “Hardly. A few maybe, in the right circumstance, but most barely know how to swing a sword.”
“They can use magic too, can’t they?”
“Some can, but it's the same.”
“What about the other one? Scia said it was the Bloody Lance herself.”
“That it was.” Hargis said, “She didn’t make a move though. Let the scrawny one handle the whole thing.”
“Maybe she didn’t want to bloody her armor, so she let you guys go.”
“Careful lad, that's yer families blood that’d be spilt. Awe is fine, but don’t forget that death isn’t spectacular or honourable.”
Gwellers smile faded, and he looked aside and did his best to find the bland scenery entertaining. Hargis let the words hang in the silence unabated, he didn’t mind the boy thinking highly of Pere, Hargis knew their truth as well as anyone else. Peres were no better than unchecked thieves and killers parading themselves as just defenders. Pere had driven his city from their homes, Pere had tried to kill him all his life, they weren’t the saviours stories told.
When the sloping hills of Hargis fields came into view he released a breath held subconsciously, he was home and safe. Every time he stepped from the properties, he put his life into the hands of fate, praying to the Goddess Hesta that none he had wronged hunted him. None had, but the fear remained ever present. He’d lost friends that way, ones that had chosen not to join his little comune and instead stayed in the cities and spending their ill-gotten wealth.
He mourned them, but he didn’t weep for them. They were criminals and killers, they had made their decision years before and were finally seeing the justice done. I’m on someone's list too though, perhaps one day someone will find out about this place.
“Uncle,” Gweller finally asked, “Why did you go with? Scia said you don’t like to go on raids, and that you complained the entire time.”
“Why?” That was a good question, but the answer was too difficult to give. What would he say? He wanted to stop the brash fools from killing themselves. He didn’t want to lose anyone else to arrogance, especially if he could help it? That he’d heard rumours of the Pere in charge being from that desolate campaign? “I… was bored of the grapes.” Hargis said, gesturing them to the hills. “All I do is tend to them and stare at them. I watch the grass grow, can’t an old man want for excitement again.”
Gweller laughed. “Uncle, you said you loved watching the fields grow.”
“Well I do… But sometimes you just want to stretch your legs.”
Gweller didn’t respond, instead he nodded and looked back out to the growing fields and small grouping of homes set into one of the valleys. Wisps of thin smoke gave the indication of the stoked fires within. He could hear the faintest sounds of music and singing from the distance, and a smile broke onto his lips. He had built this home for people wanting to escape their lives of danger, the ones who felt similarly had joined him. Most hadn’t realized that this little village of homes was Hargis’ opus to repentance for so many lives taken, but it was better that way.
They pulled the wagon up to a large circle of similar wagons, each without accommodating animals, and maneuvered it in to fill the only open slot. Hargis hopped down and untethered the two horses, they whinnied in joy while sprinting off towards their stable and grounds. The stablemaster would be happy to see them returned and with such energy. Gweller lept down, followed closely by Torel, and began to head towards their home.
Before he left, though, Gweller turned to face Hargis one last time. “I think I know why you went.” The boy said the words with certainty as he stepped back towards Hargis and the wagon.
“Oh? Why's that?” Hargis didn’t mind humouring the lad, he was smart and kind-hearted. If the others were a tenth as stable as Gweller then Hargis could pass in peace.
“You went with because you knew they’d die otherwise.”
Hargis blood froze.
“What do you mean?” he asked
“You went with Scia and the others because they were going to rob the Count, and you knew they’d die otherwise. They’d have attacked it without a second thought, and would have been slaughtered. Wouldn’t they?”
Hargis didn’t know what to say to that. “I…”
“It's okay Uncle, I’m glad you did. You’re right, pere are amazing, but they can kill us easily. I won’t forget who they work for.”
“Then that's enough.” Hargis said smiling. “Yer a good lad, with a good head on yer shoulders. I’m sure ye’ll be fine.”
Gweller returned the smile and sprinted away, Torel chasing happily after.
