After The Stand at Floating Bridge
Feeling a fluid buoyancy beneath her, Ash realized she had passed onto the floating span of the bridge. She reined her horse, reached within her furs for her sickle blade. She'd run long enough. It was time for this Daughter of the Sull to make a stand.
She quested for the flame, sucking air between her teeth as if somehow that would ignite it. Quite suddenly it was there. Tiny as a baby's tooth. But there. Sliding from her horse's back, Ash March searched for a wolf to kill...
Ash took the chain in her hands and began to spin the weight. She could not count the wolves now, and still more were tearing from the trees. They bayed and howled, snapping at Mal Naysayer with breathtaking speed. As he plunged his sword into one creature's chest, another streaked past him and onto the bridge. Ash thought, This one will do. The chain and its weight were thrumming over her head, moving so quickly nothing but the green halo scribed by the peridots could be seen.
Her wolf was leaping towards Ark's throat. Ash saw the flame, blue and cool. I cannot miss here. Adjusting the chain's torque, she waited a tiny portion of a second and then released. The chain flew forward, reeling through her first like a fishing line, and snaked around the throat of the wolf. Ash yanked with all her might, heaving back and out, and whipped the unmade creature into the water. As it crashed through the surface, she twisted sideways with her wrist, unreeling to claim the chain. The weight shot back toward her like an arrow, and she lost the flame for a moment when she thought it was going to hit her. A hasty bit of side-stepping was called for.
When she recovered her footing, she saw Ark Veinsplitter watching her, his eyes shining. "Daughter," he said. "You make this Sull proud."
She wished for all her might she had laid her hand on his shoulder then... for she never got the chance to do so again. Not in this world.
Ark had something in his hand, something he had pulled from the board of the bridge. A linchpin, long and deep, and even as she realized what it was she began to float away from him. Ark Veinsplitter had set the Floating Bridge adrift.
There was a moment when she might have jumped the distance between them. That was something she would hold with her for the rest of her life. That moment, its passing. And then the distance was too great and the swift black water opened between them, and Ark Veinsplitter rose to fight. His hass battled alone, and he must join him.
If there was a nightmare so terrible as watching the people you love battle for their lives, unable to help them, Ash March had never heard of it. She had to watch it, it was the only currency she had to pay with: Watch and bear witness to the Stand at Floating Bridge. The night was long and the battle dread, and when it was over no wolves and only one man was left standing. And still the horrors weren't done, for the Naysayer knelt by his hass and took him in his arms and screamed terrible words to his gods. When his anger was gone he kissed Ark's eyes and took a knife to Ark's throat and performed Dras Morthu.
*****
The Last Cut. She could feel Ark leave to return to the Far Shore and touched the icespur in her hair, wishing she could recall its scent and feel as secure in this moment as she had a short time ago. You make this Sull proud. She watched the two Far Riders, not knowing what she could even do or say. Her brother... Her fault.
Then it all faded away as though it had never been until all that remained was a girl and her white horse. The planks of the bridge fell away but she was left to stand on dirt and the trees surrounding her were foreign. The leaves were broad and only moonlight shone through them, they were not weighed down with snow or ice. There was a breeze but no chill remained in the air. The horse wickered, moving to her now as she glanced around, vision clouded briefly until she forced the tears back. That would not honor the Son of Sull, the man who had been her family. And now she had lost the Naysayer too.
With mild reluctance, she put her sickle blade and chain back into its case and placed her cloak on her horse's saddle. It was too hot for the cloak and although she would have prefered to keep the weapon in her hands, she could not afford to lose the horse by refusing to take hold of its reins. She rummaged through the saddlebag that remained, having lost everything else escaping from the unmade wolves, until she found the razor-thin letting knife her brothers had given her. Ark had given her Dras Xaxu, the First Cut, and now there would be another.
She felt no pain as the still-cold metal sliced into her arm and she silently watch her blood fall on the ground in front of her. Only after several drops landed did she clear her throat and struggle to say something. "I thank you, Ark Veinsplitter, for your many gifts and your companionship. You saved my life and asked no debt in return. Yet, I owe so much of whom I am to you and will never forget the lessons you taught me."
There was a teaching for every drop of blood she had to honor him with. Naza Thani. Saer Rhal. Dras Xaxu. Mas Rhal. And if one is wounded? One fights.
"A piece of my heart will always be with you on the Far Shores. Goodbye, brother. We will meet again."
Ash felt strangely different now that she had time to think which was only after she thought to close her wound. She could not afford to take the time to grow blood here. She felt surrounded by a darkness of a different kind, less dangerous but very real. Whether it was from the strangeness of the new place, the absence of her most constant companions, or the hurt still lingering from the pain of loss, she could not say. I am Ash March, Daughter of Sull, she told herself as she wondered what she ought to do. She was not sure where she was or who she was now with her brothers gone.
[ooc: Open to anyone. Takes place some time in the evening probably vaguely close to the end of the opposite plot.
As for certain things going on in the post itself: The flame is a technique the Sull use to prepare for battle as well as other aspects of their lives. Hass is a hard word to define but it basically means blood-brother but more than that as Ark Veinsplitter and Mal Naysayer rode together for about 20 years prior to this encounter with the Unmade wolves. The other words in Sull indicate various rituals and lessons Ash learned from both of them. Blood plays an important role in all of this. The first section is from pages 596-7 of A Fortress of Grey Ice.]
She quested for the flame, sucking air between her teeth as if somehow that would ignite it. Quite suddenly it was there. Tiny as a baby's tooth. But there. Sliding from her horse's back, Ash March searched for a wolf to kill...
Ash took the chain in her hands and began to spin the weight. She could not count the wolves now, and still more were tearing from the trees. They bayed and howled, snapping at Mal Naysayer with breathtaking speed. As he plunged his sword into one creature's chest, another streaked past him and onto the bridge. Ash thought, This one will do. The chain and its weight were thrumming over her head, moving so quickly nothing but the green halo scribed by the peridots could be seen.
Her wolf was leaping towards Ark's throat. Ash saw the flame, blue and cool. I cannot miss here. Adjusting the chain's torque, she waited a tiny portion of a second and then released. The chain flew forward, reeling through her first like a fishing line, and snaked around the throat of the wolf. Ash yanked with all her might, heaving back and out, and whipped the unmade creature into the water. As it crashed through the surface, she twisted sideways with her wrist, unreeling to claim the chain. The weight shot back toward her like an arrow, and she lost the flame for a moment when she thought it was going to hit her. A hasty bit of side-stepping was called for.
When she recovered her footing, she saw Ark Veinsplitter watching her, his eyes shining. "Daughter," he said. "You make this Sull proud."
She wished for all her might she had laid her hand on his shoulder then... for she never got the chance to do so again. Not in this world.
Ark had something in his hand, something he had pulled from the board of the bridge. A linchpin, long and deep, and even as she realized what it was she began to float away from him. Ark Veinsplitter had set the Floating Bridge adrift.
There was a moment when she might have jumped the distance between them. That was something she would hold with her for the rest of her life. That moment, its passing. And then the distance was too great and the swift black water opened between them, and Ark Veinsplitter rose to fight. His hass battled alone, and he must join him.
If there was a nightmare so terrible as watching the people you love battle for their lives, unable to help them, Ash March had never heard of it. She had to watch it, it was the only currency she had to pay with: Watch and bear witness to the Stand at Floating Bridge. The night was long and the battle dread, and when it was over no wolves and only one man was left standing. And still the horrors weren't done, for the Naysayer knelt by his hass and took him in his arms and screamed terrible words to his gods. When his anger was gone he kissed Ark's eyes and took a knife to Ark's throat and performed Dras Morthu.
*****
The Last Cut. She could feel Ark leave to return to the Far Shore and touched the icespur in her hair, wishing she could recall its scent and feel as secure in this moment as she had a short time ago. You make this Sull proud. She watched the two Far Riders, not knowing what she could even do or say. Her brother... Her fault.
Then it all faded away as though it had never been until all that remained was a girl and her white horse. The planks of the bridge fell away but she was left to stand on dirt and the trees surrounding her were foreign. The leaves were broad and only moonlight shone through them, they were not weighed down with snow or ice. There was a breeze but no chill remained in the air. The horse wickered, moving to her now as she glanced around, vision clouded briefly until she forced the tears back. That would not honor the Son of Sull, the man who had been her family. And now she had lost the Naysayer too.
With mild reluctance, she put her sickle blade and chain back into its case and placed her cloak on her horse's saddle. It was too hot for the cloak and although she would have prefered to keep the weapon in her hands, she could not afford to lose the horse by refusing to take hold of its reins. She rummaged through the saddlebag that remained, having lost everything else escaping from the unmade wolves, until she found the razor-thin letting knife her brothers had given her. Ark had given her Dras Xaxu, the First Cut, and now there would be another.
She felt no pain as the still-cold metal sliced into her arm and she silently watch her blood fall on the ground in front of her. Only after several drops landed did she clear her throat and struggle to say something. "I thank you, Ark Veinsplitter, for your many gifts and your companionship. You saved my life and asked no debt in return. Yet, I owe so much of whom I am to you and will never forget the lessons you taught me."
There was a teaching for every drop of blood she had to honor him with. Naza Thani. Saer Rhal. Dras Xaxu. Mas Rhal. And if one is wounded? One fights.
"A piece of my heart will always be with you on the Far Shores. Goodbye, brother. We will meet again."
Ash felt strangely different now that she had time to think which was only after she thought to close her wound. She could not afford to take the time to grow blood here. She felt surrounded by a darkness of a different kind, less dangerous but very real. Whether it was from the strangeness of the new place, the absence of her most constant companions, or the hurt still lingering from the pain of loss, she could not say. I am Ash March, Daughter of Sull, she told herself as she wondered what she ought to do. She was not sure where she was or who she was now with her brothers gone.
[ooc: Open to anyone. Takes place some time in the evening probably vaguely close to the end of the opposite plot.
As for certain things going on in the post itself: The flame is a technique the Sull use to prepare for battle as well as other aspects of their lives. Hass is a hard word to define but it basically means blood-brother but more than that as Ark Veinsplitter and Mal Naysayer rode together for about 20 years prior to this encounter with the Unmade wolves. The other words in Sull indicate various rituals and lessons Ash learned from both of them. Blood plays an important role in all of this. The first section is from pages 596-7 of A Fortress of Grey Ice.]