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Pear #10. Doom & Gloom
Story : knights & necromancers
Rating : PG
Timeframe : 1260, following the sequence of Retreat, Alley, and Red Handed and Sallow
Word Count : 1354
Kairn was sitting in the kitchen of the knights’ quarters, numbly staring out a window that, in the day, offered a view of little more than the wall, and now was as black as the rest of the world. At the sound of feet in the hall, something in him twitched, though he lacked the strength to properly jump to attention.
“Wasn’t expecting to find you up.” He turned his head and blinked at the appearance of a lantern in the doorway, the redheaded woman smiling at him as it swayed in her grasp.
“I-I can go back to my room…” said Kairn. “I-if I’m not supposed to be here…”
“What?” she said. "No. Sit!” The lantern bobbed as she waved, almost irritably, at him. “You want something to drink?”
“I…” She was already sweeping past him, towards the cabinets. Kairn sighed and settled back into his seat.
Across the narrow room, there was the creaking and bumping of doors and the clink of glass on glass. “I really scared you this afternoon, didn’t I?” she called over her shoulder as she poured the drinks.
“It doesn’t really take much anymore.”
She cocked her head with a sympathetic smile as she turned back to him, two glasses of something amber in hand. “Here,” she said, shoving one into his hand.
“Thanks.” Kairn lifted it to his lips, took a gulp, and choked on the bitter liquid. “What is this?” he said, quickly setting the glass on the table.
She shrugged, having casually half emptied her own. “Whiskey.”
“Oh,” said Kairn, a warmth creeping into his cheeks as he eyed the nearly full drink in front of him. “I…I don’t…”
The woman snorted. “With all you’ve been through just today, I’d think you could use a few.” The rest of hers was gone with another swift tip of the glass to her lips.
“Thanks, but I don’t-”
“How are your legs?” she said, setting her empty glass across from his with a hollow thump.
“I’m fine, really. No harm done.” She was still staring at him, still looking friendly, but he couldn’t quite tell just yet if it was an act. “Your…your, uh, friend is something else, isn’t he?” he added, nervously.
She laughed at that, a big hearty laugh that flowed as easily past her lips as the whiskey had, and Kairn was starting to believe she was for real. “Rune gets a little carried away sometimes. He’s really just a big softie though.”
“I’ll, uh, take your word,” he said. He was about to go on, but he forgot the words as her hand settled around his glass.
“You’re really not going to drink this?” she said.
“I…uh…”
The hand let go of his drink and cast him a dismissive wave before its owner turned back to the counter. “No mind, I’ll get another while you decide.”
“So,“ Kairn said slowly, still staring at the glass. He wasn’t going to touch it, why couldn’t he just say as much? The woman was already filling another. “Rune, he has real magic? He wasn’t using forms or anything?”
She turned around and half emptied another drink. “Nah,” she said. “He’s the real deal.” Kairn nodded as she took a much more reasonable sip. She frowned at him. “You’ve seen real magic before, have you?”
“I have.”
A foolish grin spread across her features, that may or may not have been a product of the liquor. “Wanna see some now?”
“What?”
She snatched the lantern from the counter behind her and plopped it on the table.
“What do you mean, see some-”
The small, flickering light at the heart of the lamp erupted into a blaze that set the glass rattling, only to die back to a wispy little tongue just as quickly.
Kairn gaped at the grinning woman in disbelief. “There are two of you?”
“Three,” she said. “There’s Ski too. She's got water.”
Kairn was only vaguely aware that his hand had wrapped itself back around the glass and that he was bringing it to his lips. He choked down rather a large mouthful, the whiskey burning a path down his throat, and shook his head. “What have we gotten ourselves into?”
She laughed again, and gave the hand not clutching the glass a patronizing pat. “Not to worry,” she said. “You’re in good hands with us.” She tipped back her drink for another sip. “I suppose, in a way, we’ve actually been looking for you.”
“Looking?” said Kairn. “For us?” He shook his head again. Maybe he needed to finish the drink so the absurdities coming from her would make as much sense to him as they did to her. “The kid’s prophesized to bring death and destruction. And you think Berwyk and Guilford and their ilk are the bad ones…”
“Ah ah ah.” She was grinning as she waggled a finger at him. “I see nothing about death and destruction in the scriptures. Clearly, the words used are ‘wrath of the gods.’” She downed the last of her second drink. Kairn looked at his for a moment and took another gulp. He coughed a bit at the sting in his throat, and he swore he could feel the buzz creeping into his ears, but this was not a conversation to be having sober. “And you know,” she went on, with a smirk as she loaded her glass a third time, “when the world is in peril, the gods will choose for themselves champions to face that peril.” The new drink met the same fate as the first two, half gone in one gulp. “I’m here, and my sister, and so is Rune. The boy’s bound to be one of us, a tool of the gods. Your necromancer friends want him gone because the gods mean to use him to smite them.”
“To smite…You can’t be serious.”
“On the contrary,” she waved her finger at him again. “I’ve had quite a bit of practice smiting things. I could demonstrate-”
“No, no,” said Kairn, and he pushed his chair back a bit from the table, not quite sure just what constituted safe distance in the event of such a demonstration. “That won’t be… necessary.”
She was pouting now, an expression almost as animated as her laughter had been before, and Kairn swore she must be completely drunk by now. “You don’t believe me.” she said.
“It‘s just, well…” With a sigh, he slumped a bit in his chair. “No, I don‘t. A band of heroes that save the world from the forces of evil? I mean, really, what fairy stories have you been reading? And how much of that have you been drinking?” he added, with a wave at the bottle on the counter.
That earned a snort of a laugh. “Takes a lot more than three glasses to get me under the table,” she said, lifting the last of her third serving for another sip.
Kairn sighed.
“So, you seem to think the kid’s going to destroy the world,” she said. “What? My interpretation’s less valid because it’s more optimistic?” He laughed. “You must not really believe yours either. You saved him, after all.”
“Demon, god, whatever he is. Shasa’s my baby sister. I saved her.”
“And we saved you,” she said, as if somehow that solved everything.
“I…I suppose you did.”
“So, now you’ll just have to trust us. Look, something led me to you. You don’t think the world wants to be destroyed, do you?”
Three glasses of whiskey in her and she was trying to wage an argument of logic? “No,” he conceded. Not much point in debating things with a woman who was out of her mind, drunk, and could probably sling flames at him if she got the notion. “I…I don’t suppose it would.”
“There, see?” she said, beaming at her apparent victory. Kairn just shook his head as she reached again for the bottle. “Now try and get some sleep.”
“That might be best,” said Kairn, forcing himself up out of his chair. “Certainly better than more whiskey.”
Story : knights & necromancers
Rating : PG
Timeframe : 1260, following the sequence of Retreat, Alley, and Red Handed and Sallow
Word Count : 1354
Kairn was sitting in the kitchen of the knights’ quarters, numbly staring out a window that, in the day, offered a view of little more than the wall, and now was as black as the rest of the world. At the sound of feet in the hall, something in him twitched, though he lacked the strength to properly jump to attention.
“Wasn’t expecting to find you up.” He turned his head and blinked at the appearance of a lantern in the doorway, the redheaded woman smiling at him as it swayed in her grasp.
“I-I can go back to my room…” said Kairn. “I-if I’m not supposed to be here…”
“What?” she said. "No. Sit!” The lantern bobbed as she waved, almost irritably, at him. “You want something to drink?”
“I…” She was already sweeping past him, towards the cabinets. Kairn sighed and settled back into his seat.
Across the narrow room, there was the creaking and bumping of doors and the clink of glass on glass. “I really scared you this afternoon, didn’t I?” she called over her shoulder as she poured the drinks.
“It doesn’t really take much anymore.”
She cocked her head with a sympathetic smile as she turned back to him, two glasses of something amber in hand. “Here,” she said, shoving one into his hand.
“Thanks.” Kairn lifted it to his lips, took a gulp, and choked on the bitter liquid. “What is this?” he said, quickly setting the glass on the table.
She shrugged, having casually half emptied her own. “Whiskey.”
“Oh,” said Kairn, a warmth creeping into his cheeks as he eyed the nearly full drink in front of him. “I…I don’t…”
The woman snorted. “With all you’ve been through just today, I’d think you could use a few.” The rest of hers was gone with another swift tip of the glass to her lips.
“Thanks, but I don’t-”
“How are your legs?” she said, setting her empty glass across from his with a hollow thump.
“I’m fine, really. No harm done.” She was still staring at him, still looking friendly, but he couldn’t quite tell just yet if it was an act. “Your…your, uh, friend is something else, isn’t he?” he added, nervously.
She laughed at that, a big hearty laugh that flowed as easily past her lips as the whiskey had, and Kairn was starting to believe she was for real. “Rune gets a little carried away sometimes. He’s really just a big softie though.”
“I’ll, uh, take your word,” he said. He was about to go on, but he forgot the words as her hand settled around his glass.
“You’re really not going to drink this?” she said.
“I…uh…”
The hand let go of his drink and cast him a dismissive wave before its owner turned back to the counter. “No mind, I’ll get another while you decide.”
“So,“ Kairn said slowly, still staring at the glass. He wasn’t going to touch it, why couldn’t he just say as much? The woman was already filling another. “Rune, he has real magic? He wasn’t using forms or anything?”
She turned around and half emptied another drink. “Nah,” she said. “He’s the real deal.” Kairn nodded as she took a much more reasonable sip. She frowned at him. “You’ve seen real magic before, have you?”
“I have.”
A foolish grin spread across her features, that may or may not have been a product of the liquor. “Wanna see some now?”
“What?”
She snatched the lantern from the counter behind her and plopped it on the table.
“What do you mean, see some-”
The small, flickering light at the heart of the lamp erupted into a blaze that set the glass rattling, only to die back to a wispy little tongue just as quickly.
Kairn gaped at the grinning woman in disbelief. “There are two of you?”
“Three,” she said. “There’s Ski too. She's got water.”
Kairn was only vaguely aware that his hand had wrapped itself back around the glass and that he was bringing it to his lips. He choked down rather a large mouthful, the whiskey burning a path down his throat, and shook his head. “What have we gotten ourselves into?”
She laughed again, and gave the hand not clutching the glass a patronizing pat. “Not to worry,” she said. “You’re in good hands with us.” She tipped back her drink for another sip. “I suppose, in a way, we’ve actually been looking for you.”
“Looking?” said Kairn. “For us?” He shook his head again. Maybe he needed to finish the drink so the absurdities coming from her would make as much sense to him as they did to her. “The kid’s prophesized to bring death and destruction. And you think Berwyk and Guilford and their ilk are the bad ones…”
“Ah ah ah.” She was grinning as she waggled a finger at him. “I see nothing about death and destruction in the scriptures. Clearly, the words used are ‘wrath of the gods.’” She downed the last of her second drink. Kairn looked at his for a moment and took another gulp. He coughed a bit at the sting in his throat, and he swore he could feel the buzz creeping into his ears, but this was not a conversation to be having sober. “And you know,” she went on, with a smirk as she loaded her glass a third time, “when the world is in peril, the gods will choose for themselves champions to face that peril.” The new drink met the same fate as the first two, half gone in one gulp. “I’m here, and my sister, and so is Rune. The boy’s bound to be one of us, a tool of the gods. Your necromancer friends want him gone because the gods mean to use him to smite them.”
“To smite…You can’t be serious.”
“On the contrary,” she waved her finger at him again. “I’ve had quite a bit of practice smiting things. I could demonstrate-”
“No, no,” said Kairn, and he pushed his chair back a bit from the table, not quite sure just what constituted safe distance in the event of such a demonstration. “That won’t be… necessary.”
She was pouting now, an expression almost as animated as her laughter had been before, and Kairn swore she must be completely drunk by now. “You don’t believe me.” she said.
“It‘s just, well…” With a sigh, he slumped a bit in his chair. “No, I don‘t. A band of heroes that save the world from the forces of evil? I mean, really, what fairy stories have you been reading? And how much of that have you been drinking?” he added, with a wave at the bottle on the counter.
That earned a snort of a laugh. “Takes a lot more than three glasses to get me under the table,” she said, lifting the last of her third serving for another sip.
Kairn sighed.
“So, you seem to think the kid’s going to destroy the world,” she said. “What? My interpretation’s less valid because it’s more optimistic?” He laughed. “You must not really believe yours either. You saved him, after all.”
“Demon, god, whatever he is. Shasa’s my baby sister. I saved her.”
“And we saved you,” she said, as if somehow that solved everything.
“I…I suppose you did.”
“So, now you’ll just have to trust us. Look, something led me to you. You don’t think the world wants to be destroyed, do you?”
Three glasses of whiskey in her and she was trying to wage an argument of logic? “No,” he conceded. Not much point in debating things with a woman who was out of her mind, drunk, and could probably sling flames at him if she got the notion. “I…I don’t suppose it would.”
“There, see?” she said, beaming at her apparent victory. Kairn just shook his head as she reached again for the bottle. “Now try and get some sleep.”
“That might be best,” said Kairn, forcing himself up out of his chair. “Certainly better than more whiskey.”