New Story
Celestial bodies always had a way of drawing the eye to the night sky, the stars littering the sky scape as if someone had carelessly dumped them there. If the moon sat fat in the sky it often captivated any creature below, this night even I was spell bound. I longed for the nights that the moon hid like an uncertain neophyte.
Those nights, there was one less thing making me late.
I hurried onwards, bare feet slapping the frigid wooden walkway. Most others in the temple wore shoes, but I detested them finding the dead feeling I felt when my connection to earth was broke more than unpleasant. The bracelets around my thin wrists clamored with each step, discordant notes beautiful as well as jarring. It didn’t take long to reach the shrine and I slowed my pace, willing my bracelets to silence. I would rather not give those I had kept waiting the opportunity to realize I was approaching. The reprimands would only be harsher.
Voices slipped from an entryway that some careless priest had left ajar, the tone low and urgent. You would think that the trickster clergy would know better than to leave the door ajar during important conversations, but it seemed even the wily ones had their blind spots. I pressed my nose against the worn wood of the door, trying to peer in and still see everything important regardless of the limited view.
The shrine itself was bathed in flame, casting the room in a multicolored hue that practically screamed magic use. After all, why would we want to have normal flame in only one color spectrum? Just looked at it, my breath was stolen by the awe. I knew I shouldn’t view the inner shrine without permission, but could they really fault me if I peeked? I was a trickster in training after all, and I was moments away from my introduction to the patron god of tricksters, Lian. It was almost wrong not to. It took a heartbeat to realize that something was a miss, to see the firelight flickering on pools of Not-water. The question was what the puddle of not-water was comprised of. Now those that belong to Lian were prone to switching things around on a whim, so pools of water aren’t surprising. It was the not-water that was unnerving, the fact that closer examination revealed it to be blood that had spilt on the floor, drained from Lian’s priesthood. Only two voices bandied back and forth among the many that should have been heard, one I immediately recognized as the high priest, the other wasn’t familiar in the slightest.
After a spectacularly harsh statement, I heard the sound of something moving at a speed that made the air sing. Seconds later, something was buried in flesh, a sound that made my stomach protest. The head priest called something out, for salvation or to curse, I won’t ever know as the words were masked by a strangled gurgling. He stumbled, falling to the floor.
Okay, obviously some calamity was taking place, right in the place we were supposed to be safest. I certainly wouldn’t be found cowering behind a door! Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the door, fighting the contents of my stomach once more when they tried to rise up and join the carnage I could finally view on the floor. The temple elite, our finest clergy were all dead or dying on the floor, among them three priestesses and two priests. The tools of battle were strewn about the sanctum, wielded against an enemy that had probably found the attempt quaint. A young man I had never seen before was perched at the base of Lian’s statue, something about this sudden appearance at the temple immediately set off warning bells.
Culprit? I certainly think I had found him. Call it a hunch. He gave me a slow smile, as if he was recognizing an old friend. “You know,” he started, tone conversational, “If you had been here on time, Morywith dear, some of this could have been avoided.” I could have sworn I detected a hint of sarcasm. It could have been the affectionate tag he put on a name that didn’t belong to me. His dark eyes were smug. Sure, if I believed him, some of this gore could have been avoided, but at the same time I could see in those eyes that he wouldn’t have enjoyed himself nearly as much.
On second thought, I don’t think I could trust him in the slightest. As a murderer, I could still award him the benefit of the doubt, even trust his word. Some killers did have honor codes after all. This man, on the other hand was either quite mad or confusing me with someone else (which still left the possibility that he was insane). If I did the math, he was obviously not right. Carefully, I formed words in a way I felt wouldn’t provoke him, “I’m sorry, you must be mistaken. My name is Anja, I’m not known by that name.” There, that sounded nice and non-confrontational.
He gave a shrug, frowning thoughtfully, “You used to think faster, dearest. This place has obviously spoilt you. Now, think hard. Where have we met before?”
Before I shot back a witty retort, I actually decided to try and figure out where I had seen him before. He was tall and lanky, with dark hair and eyes. It was impossible to discern their exact color in the candlelight, but I would wager that it was a brown that could be mistaken for the shade of pitch. He face was angular, but not hard to look upon with prominent cheekbones and expressive lips that could contort in several shapes to convey emotions, if he would actually show any besides contempt. If I didn’t know any wiser, I would claim that he was a knight in shining armor. My limited experience with him informed that he was the worst kind of bastard imaginable. “Let me guess? You’re some sort of nobility that didn’t appreciate a prank I pulled. I extend my most sincere apologies,” or as sincere as I could be when not feeling remorse over childish pranks, “but I’m afraid I simply can’t recall every person I’ve crossed in my lifetime.” Now I was getting cheeky. That was probably dangerous, but if I figured the guy would probably kill me anyway, I would much rather go out swinging.
He chuckled at my air, leaning against the statue. In most temples, that would be blasphemy, but Lian wasn’t prone to caring about that sort of thing.
He might be prone to smiting those that killed his priests though. It could make anyone cranky.
“Ah, little one. I know I ask a lot, if you can’t remember those you’ve upset in this life. What about those you’ve crossed in a past life?”
Well, shit. He couldn’t be serious!
He was insinuating that the theory of reincarnation was scientific fact. No, he was blatantly proclaiming it from a filthy soapbox in the seediest bar in town. Sorry, but it didn’t sit well with my whole life philosophy. As pathetic as it was, I could only glower as my personal paradigm crashed around me like a castle in disrepair. “I get it, I’ve done something to you that I can’t remember because I’ve died somewhere between then and now." Which I couldn't be blamed for, in all honesty. "So what? It's in the past, right?" It was the oldest avoidant excuse in the book. I never claimed that I was that clever. In fact, what intellect I had was dwarfed by the gleefully sharp creativity of my betters.
I couldn't help but figure I had done something truly heinous in this past incarnation. Either that, or he had absolutely no sense of humor.
I was hedging my bets on the latter, fuck the profit line.
"Cute", he said, in a way that told me he thought it was anything but. "But you're right," he continued, a sly grin slipping across his features. It was only there for an instant, one of those blink-and-you'll-miss-it affairs. Lucky for me, I was too frightened to risk blinking. On most, the smile would have been enough to charm people into giving away everything, whether it be first-born child or soul. It was a rare gift, one that would explain how he had managed to slip past everyone and into the inner sanctum.
There wasn't much of a murder mystery here. He hadn't used force to get it. Why use force if it wasn't needed?
Somehow, I found the prospect even more repulsive than the thought of a stranger fighting their way into our most sacred places.
Of course, he wasn't finished with his speech. He was savoring this moment, surround by carnage and the scent of stale fear. I couldn't blame him, I would be doing the exact same thing if the tables were turned. There was nothing like a good gloat to accompany the exhilarition of victory. "I concur, the events that occured were literally part of the past. That doesn't mean that you can be easily forgiven. There are some wrongs that require bloodshed in order to be made right."
Yeah, I have this notion that inferred that he didn't make a bit of sense. "So, what? You kill me now?"
"That's the short of it," he admitted.
If there was one thing my training had taught me, it was the fact tricksters continue to snark until the last, "Sorry, can't say I agree. You see, death wasn't on my list of things to do today." It wasn't on my list of things to do ever, but that was besides the point.
His lips curled into a half-snarl that barely seemed human, "You never change, do you Morywith?" He was patronizing me, wasn't he? That was hardly fair, the man wasn't even my patron! "Cute little Mory, never taking a damned thing seriously."
Apparently, I hadn't learned over my lifetimes. So much for the great learning experience. Hopefully, there wouldn't be a popquiz on this material, it was almost worse than missing the lecture. It seemed that people actually expected you to remember what happened before you were born. How funny was that? "Is there a cue for this? Some cheesy villain line like, 'It's time for you to die?'"
"How about we skip the formalities?", he offered, almost politely as he unsheathed his sword from his scabbard. The thing fit his personality, all jagged edges and angles. Given his antagonizing stance, I was almost expect the black sword, but the thing was a sky blue that could only be viewed in the eyes of an artist.
Now would probably be the best time to bold, but I knew my weaknesses. I could only run so far before he caught up to me, even with the adrenilene factored into the equation. My mind was frantically trying to form a feasible Plan B, but the process was rudely interrupted by a simple intrusion, "I think this would thrives on formality, don't you?"
Did I mention that this voice was one I hadn't ever heard before? Scraps of information like that certainly turn situations around, and only a few extra words of explanation of needed. It certainly was a predicatment, you see. Given the circumstances, I wasn't entirely sure if this new development was a good thing or if I should worry even more. It was then that the speaker walked out into the open. Yes, he walked. He did not float, glide, fly, saunter, lumber in on the back of a magnificent beast, or appear out of nowhere (well, the last was debateable) as gods are prone to do.
I had seen enough depictions to recognize this diety immediately. He was tall and lanky, moving with a grace that couldn't be described as human. Well, it couldn't be described as inhuman, either. It was certainly out of the realm of my addled mind to articulate how someone moved. He had an ease about him that insinuated that he was free from some unknown quality that held most of us down, perhaps it was the maddening smirk he had adopted for the occasion. What sort of priestess would I be if I couldn't recognize my own diety? I guess Lian decided to meet me in person. Not to bring myself down any, but I was forced to wonder if his appearance had anything to do with the death of some of his followers. In the meantime, my training had kicked in, almost in the literal sense, and I dropped to my knees, my head bowing so low my forehead almost touched the ancient wood of the shrine floor. There was nothing like dropping to a bloodstained floor to shock you right back out of training, the gore stuck to my skin like a parasite, making me gag.
I heard a rather put-upon sigh, footsteps approached my form, making the floorboards groan as if they felt some unbearable agony. A hand wrapped around my arm just above the elbow, pulling me up, almost gently. I looked up, seeing the god of chaos making faces at me. "Does now seriously seem like a good time to be doing such a thing?" he asked, looking somewhat perplexed., "Your mortal enemy could have gotten here before me, then where would you be?" His look insinuated that the answer wouldn't be a pleasent one.
Said mortal enemy finally seemed to react, "How dare you interfere with my affairs again, Lian!" I couldn't fathom speaking like that to a deity, let alone an annoyed deity.
"Actually, you're interfering in mine, Sionnach. In case you haven't noticed, I've been very good about staying out of your hair." He smirked again, the expression not-in-the-least friendly. "I let you kill her last time. Pity she belong to me in this lifetime." His grip tightened on my elbows, fingers digging in. I could only imagine the marks they would make. Still, I felt safer with Lian than I did with the other man, and that counted for something.
Sionnach's response was a multileveled protest, words tumbling out to counter the trickster-god's claim as fingers tightened to grip his sword, both were stopped almost immediately by Lian's interjection, "Don't test me, Onni, or whatever name you've invented for yourself as of late." Now Sionnach looked as if his pride had been run through.
Sionnach wasn't about to give up, Lian wasn't about to back down. This conundrum didn't seem to bother the trickster at all, he simply shrugged, leaving my side to search the little shrine, tracking red behind him. Shivering, I noted that my defense had simply wandered off, I slowly stooped low, eyes on my enemy, fingers brushing the stone, groping for a dagger disregarded by one of the clergy. "You do realize that an act of aggression is all he needs at the moment, don't you?" Lian peered out from behind his statue, "And that holding a sharp, pointy object is universally recognized as an act of aggression...barring woodcutting or games." I paled, rising once more while Lian continued to poke around.
Finally, he seemed to find what he was looking for. "Typical", he muttered to himself, "and I'm sure they thought they were being clever." Gently he placed his fingertips on the smooth grooves worn into the rare stone of the statue, turning a suddenly less hidden panel counterclockwise. A mechanical whirring starte, stone grinding against stone until there was a hole there that wasn't before. Reaching in, the deity pulled out a short sword. Altogether, the move wasn't as impressive as it should have been. The sword was in a state of disrepair, rust gnawing at the edges of the blade. Blood colored the steel, staining the groove of the blade and caking the hilt. Over the years the hilt had dropped its many jewels and decorations, part of the guard of guard had crumbled away. The sword was obviously fine craftmanship, and I was puzzled by the bad state of the it. A state like that took negative skill.
It was apt time to state the obvious, "That isn't fearsome in the slightest, you know", I stated flatly.
"It's prettier on my side of the fence," he mentioned off-handedly, brandinging the weapon at our antagonist. "Now will you leave in peace, or do I have to use this?"
I had to choke back a laugh. Literally. This was getting ridiculous. "You really think that's scary?" I asked, completely flabbergasted. Instead of a knight in shining armor, I got someone who that that life was a joke. Really, it showed a complete lack of training that I didn't find the situation to be funny myself.
However, the display seemed to have a positive effect, on Sionnach, or a least an effect that I deemed positive. Which means, he finally decided to turn his tail and run. He hissed, backing away slowly, "We have a claim that is contested, it seems. I suppose we will settle it at a later date." He leered at me, a look that said he would try to settle it at a time where my patron deity wouldn't be around to stop him. I shivered, averting my gaze.
It was a mistake. I only turned my attention from a future horror to a past one. I looked a Lian, hoping that the image of the corpses wouldn't be permanently burned into my mind. Lian only grinned at Sionnach, "I suppose we will," in a matter that clearly stated that it had already been settled.
Sionnach glowered balefully at Lian, but arguing with a deity never ends well. He turned around, leaving the shrine, footfalls as silent as a ghost. He didn't use any tricks to make a fancy exit. He had already done more than enough to make his visit memorable. He simply opened the door to the shrine and walked out. I held my breath until his footsteps faded in the distance, fearful on some subconscious level that if I made the slightest of sounds, he would return.
Lian was currently examining his rusty sword. He made a face before returning to the secret compartment and fishing out a worn sheath. "Well, that was close, wasn't it?" He slid the blade into its holder, "Here, catch!" He lobbed the weapon at me, smirking. I reached out to catch it, a feat the should have been easy, however I felt my fingers graze the leather before it clattered to the stained stones. Yet another smooth jem popped from the handle, skittering across the shrine.
I winced, looking up to see the trickster's reaction, "I should have warned you...I couldn't catch if my life depended on it." I hate realizing what a statement means after the fact.
Surpisingly, he only shrugged as I quickly picked up the sword, a mischievous gleam in his dark grey eyes, "Duly noted, dear. Good thing it didn't come to that earlier, hmm?" He stepped back, gaze scrutinizing, "We'll just have to work on that. Don't worry, that sort of thing isn't going to bother her...not anymore than she's already been bothered."
He was certain it wouldn't bother her, but it certainly bothered me. Something about the feeling of wet blood coatiny my hands, drying and trying to freeze my fingers together only solidified the realizy in front of me. My stomach churned, inciting a rebellion of my body, one subdued when I actually managed to keep my dinner down. The the blood started to slink off my hands. The sword was greedily slurping down the life-fluids through the leather sheath. It was only a matter of minutes before all traces of the blood were gone, the coat covering the sheath and my hands were slowly disappearing until both were immaculate.
"Oh, great. You've cleaned up! Let's get down to business, shall we? Why don't you leave her on the ground? I'm sure she's cranky and some food will help. Trust me," I followed his orders, placing the weapon in the biggest puddle of blood. Call it a hunch. He perched on the base of the statue, beckoning me to join him. I did so, almost cautiously. Could I really be blamed at that point? The whole experience had been harrowing, I could hardly contain my paranoia at this late stage. However, Lian was a comforting presence. He beamed at me as I set next to him. Once I had settled in, he continued, "This may not be the best time to talk, but I could certainly think of worse ones." He paused, "What it comes down to is this: you can't stay here." I begged to differ, but part of me knew that my logic would fail in comparison to his reasoning. "No, seriously. I know waht you're thinking, 'It's safer here.' Well, look around you." I followed the directive, a mistake when faced with my adoptive kin scattered around the shrine. "Does this place look safe?"
Yeah, he had a good point., and he knew it. He continued on, "I meant to get you out of here before this sort of thing happened, but its not like I can really pop down for a visit." He grimaced on that note, completely oblvious to the fact that he was currently popping down for a visit. "I mean, I try and send some signs that scream, 'Hey! Do my will!"' and no one gets it. Almost a hundred acolytes and all denser than the rock below our feet."
"What do you mean by that?", I asked curiously.
"Exactly," he said triumphantly, as if I had just proven his point. "I suppose it doesn't even matter at this point. If you didn't catch it the first time, I'm certainly not going to tell you now. Had everything worked out as planned, you wouldn't even be here at the moment. They would have wizened up to the danger and sent you far, far away." He reached up, idly running fingers through my hair, "Don't worry, Anja. I know that they loved you in their own little way, but it's human nature to protect the self, and you know it." I could only shiver at the gesture, not wanting to believe the words. Denial was a skill of mine, and I wasn't above utilizing it. He patted me on the back, the small caress a comfort. It was only with his hand resting on my shoulderblades that I realized I was trembling. My body chattered from the roots of my hair to the tips of my toenails. My wristbands clanked lightly, the discordant notes the only sound in the desecrated place of worship. "So, do you want to hear about the little trip I have planned for you?"
From the look on my face, I was sure he could tell that I didn't. "Well, you have two choices," he said reasonably, "Either you go on your quest with some form of instruction, or you go your own way all but blinded."
"I prefer the first," it was a reluctant answer. I didn't appreciate being strung along, like a fish on a line.
"Good, here's our plan of action. You get to clear my name in this realm." For some reason, I had the strangest sense of deja vu. "I would do it myself, but as perviously stated, I'm a bit indisposed." I opened my mouth to protest, but he bulldozed right past me, "Stop thinking I'm present, Anja.", for such a huge revelation to drop, he almost sounded bored, "I really am not in the mood to spell anything out. Trust my word, I am not really here." He thumped me on the back heartily, "Is that so hard to wrap your mind around?" He asked, his appearance almost one of concern.
"Yes," I asmitted sullenly. It was hard to differentiate between this abstract concept and the physical sensation that insisted otherwise. I wasn't imagining the hand on my back, that was for certain.
"The don't strain yourself trying," he commanded, "You'll get it eventually." He pushed himself off the ledge, stretching slightly, picking bits of wax off his garments. The clergy had gone on a candle caper the previous moon, adorning the shrine with countless waxen flames. Apparently, we hadn't cleaned thoroughly enough. "Well, I would head south if I were you." He was getting used to my looks and seemingly seamlessly slipped into a solution. "You don't know which was is south, I take it? That sort of thing is easily fixed," he reached over, gently flicking my temple. I suddenly knew which way was south, simple as that. "A few lessons before we part ways? The first is demonstrated between us, no gift is simple. One is needed in return if you want to get by. Any idea what you'll give in return yet?"
He could see in my eyes that I could think of a few. "Good, sit on that thought for a bit. Don't ever make a deal without wording your contribution carefully. That's a quick way to get yourself hurt, and that is more or lesson the second lesson."
He grabbed my elbow and pulled, and I slid off the ledge, helping him help me up. It was only then I noticed the change in the shrine. The gore had been washed away, the bodies were completely gone. I almost didn't know which was worse; the massacre or the cleanly state instead of an aftermath. Grinning, he plucked up the sword, passing it to me. "Hold onto Acherdia, as you can see she'll be more than helpful most of the time." Hastily, I was ushered toward the door, "South, there you'll meet me again, just not the --" the pressure on my arm disappeared, along with Lian, which was even stranger than the disappearance of the murder scene, in my opinion. With very little choice left, I headed toward my chambers. Lian had stressed the importance of haste, but making a quick stop surely wasn't forbidden? I wanted to be prepared for my journey, refreshed even. I would collect thoughts and knicknacks in my chambers, then start my arduous journey.
I only hoped it would end better than the journey of my comrades this evening.
~~~*End Chapter 1*~~~