Upon a Star: Karyana's Journey: Chapter 19

An unwilling enemy became an unlikely ally, while a wise man's wisdom makes Demyan wonder what to do next.

Chapter 19

Sayeth cursed her luck. The first squad she was part of was a complete waste of men, as each suffered her blades �" either in the back, throat or skull. The group of ragtag grunts and cut-purses were as worthless as a copper coin. That last squad was completely overpowered and didn't even make a single kill.

Oh, she had used her ring to teleport herself off the battlefield, but just far enough so her elvish eyes could see the ongoing slaughter… or she had thought until the incapacitated sorceress rose from what might have been her deathbed and cast a spell of such destructive potency that every member of the squad she deserted had been turned to dust and blown in the downward gusts that poured from the hollow plateau that was Starfall.

At least in Dyurth, magic was weakened. To the ebony-skinned elf, it was both a blessing and a curse; she didn't have to suffer the wrath of wizards, mages and members of the Order of the Manaweave, as none of them even dared approaching its steep cliffs, let alone the magical dead zone, where not even the simplest of cantrips could be cast. That also meant that her ring was useless and that her armor's enchantments, woven into the very plates and fabric, were also muted. The only thing that was left unscathed were the sharp blades of her knives, the deadly tips of her arrows and her belligerent mood.

Dark Elves were known as dwellers of the shadow, and some believed that the light of the sun was enough to make their incantations worthless. Those rumors and legends usually died with their tellers, as the race was no slouch with the blade, and used melee combat far more often than sorcery. In Sayeth's case, she abhorred magic of all kind, except for that which made her feet quicker, her skin thicker and her blades sharper. The rest were all mind tricks or ritualistic chattering with meaningless hand movements, with results that usually never happened fast enough to protect their throats from her skills as an assassin.

Still, an assassin isn't exactly a hunter, and she was famished. Sure, hunting mountain goats and wild swine was sport enough, but constantly feeding on meat �" which she barely had the patience or the firewood to cook �" was making her cranky. The fact that the morning mist in the hollow rocky bowl that was the Blasted Mountains was so thick made hunting especially hard, and too often she lost her prey or mistook it for whatever petrified vegetation was left around the blast range where one of the world's greatest tormentors and warlords quite literally exploded in rage.

The only thing of remote interest in Dyurth was the shrine that was meant to be the resting place of all those who died on the Battle of Dyurth Pass. In fact, at the center of Dyurth was said to be a cave where the Magelord Reveen and his men rested before the battle, and in that cave, it was said that they had found the etchings and incantations of a spell so powerful that it could decimate an entire city in moments. Reveen knew that the knowledge of the spell was Xelnos' doing, and carefully altered the weave and runes before the first cyphers were translated. Thus, the only one who knew of the power of the spell was the one who destroyed himself and his army with it. The cave itself and its secrets were nothing more than ashes now, which had been gathered into the crypt-like shrine in the middle of the small lake made by years of rainwater.

Sayeth wasn't in the mood to bathe, even though her armor and what clothes she had underneath reeked of clotted goat blood. However, her waterskin was almost empty, and even though the water wasn't the purest, it was far from stale and would be enough to keep her thirst at bay.

Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, the ebony-skinned woman took a few steps down a mild slope, letting the brittle ground slide under her feet, before landing a few yards from the watering hole that was the tiny lake.

"One disastrous mission after another." she barked at herself with scorn as she filled her waterskin. "Bet the whole tribe will want my head after-"

The faint sound of a sleepy groan stirred her out of her temper as her attention shifted from her horrible situation to the faint silhouette of a person across the water. It was hard to tell if it was across the lake or half-way, but she was not interested in swimming. However… what if it was a wounded merchant, who had the ill luck of losing control of his wagon and fell in the ditch? A merciful kill would disguise a good way to empty whoever's pockets and snatch some much-needed coin.

Throwing caution in the wind �" or what little wind there was -, she removed the leather straps and bulky plates that held her armor in place, removed her greaves and boots, grabbed one of her daggers and stepped in the pool. The first few steps left her waist-deep in chilly water, so she had no choice but to hold the blade in her mouth, keeping the blunt side against her lips and the weapon in her teeth, and waded as far as she could go before swimming was the only remaining option.

When she finally reached the shore, what greeted her was something she didn't expect; a sleeping woman, dressed in rags that did little to cover her, with a mane of hair that was being washed by the mild waves brought forth by the wind that slowly lifted the blanket of fog.

"All that for a wench?" Sayeth asked herself, gritting her teeth as she pulled the weapon out of her mouth, of fear she would bite into the metal too hard and break a canine.

The Dun-elf inspected the young woman who seemed to sleep too deeply to notice the deadly company that approached her. The sleeping woman was… well… intriguing in many ways. Too pretty to be a warrior, yet her frame did show the faint signs of battle training, as her arms had a mild muscle line and her body was well toned. Too young to be a sorceress, but the rags she wore did look like someone had made a barely suitable top out of an Order's robes. Her skin barely had blemishes, so the thought of that girl being a slave seemed out of the question, even if the rags made her look like it. No weapons, armor, waterskins or backpacks lying about… all this just made things even more confusing.

"Not worth killing if she's got nothing on her…" Sayeth grummeled before noticing a burn mark on the unconscious girl's forehead. "But what the blazes is that brand? Never seen a tribe with something like that before…"

The she-elf looked concerned for a moment. Sure, the woman at her feet was at her mercy, and just climbing out of Dyurth would make sure no one even knew of her, but there was something… almost soothing about her. Almost.

"Alright, deadweight. Wake up!" she shouted before whipping her foot around the lake's surface, sending a splash of cold water on the girl's face.

It took less than a second for the unconscious woman to wake up, bolting up in a sitting position, her wet hair slapping against her back as her eyes showed a myriad of emotions, the main one for the moment being shock.

"Wh-what? W-where am I?" she spoke, panic in her voice before turning towards Sayeth. "Who are you?"

"Your only way out of that hole in the world, so get on your feet, or I'll have you sleeping with the worms!" the dun-elf replied, grabbing her dagger and holding it menacingly to make the stranger know that she meant every word.

-----

Demyan couldn't get that moment of realization out of his mind. He knew that she was alive, he could feel it. It had been more than ten years since she disappeared, but having befriended Laurinya and Kaina, the two girls that were the two opposite sides of Karyana's psyche, was enough of a proof for him that both were simply halves of a whole.

Even as he slipped on his wide-sleeved shirt over his skin-close cover-all, buckled the belt of his pants and adjusted the tauk around his neck, the young man kept pondering: what happened to turn Karyana into those two? What happened to make them return into a single being? And why?

Chime's silver belt rang as the winged creature hopped around the young Magelord's feet, drawing an oval wide enough for it to avoid knocking its wings on the man or anything on that was near ground level.

Three consecutive knocks came from behind the heavy oak door. "Young Master, are you awake?" a mild voice spoke with the familiar droning tone of a Construct. "There is a man outside who wishes to speak with you."

Demyan let out a sigh as he adjusted the cuffs of his sleeves, then grabbed one of his boots to slide it on. "I'm almost ready." he said, though Chime was making it hard for him to concentrate on anything except his prancing and the fact that he usually would grab onto anything that was discarded with his teeth. The young man had lost too many good pairs of boots to the little creature's incessant gnawing.

"He said he will be waiting for you at Medai's fountain." was all the servant, a bronze automaton dressed in a pageboy's clothes said before bowing and leaving, its placid face remaining expressionless even though the wig of braided horse hair swished with every movement.

The fountain was given that title not because it represented the late Magelord that was Demyan's predecessor, but because it was Medai who had the fountain created. The ornate piece had been shaped for a complete block of alabaster and had taken the master carver and a crew of twenty artists and stone-weavers �" mages who could shape rock with the same ease a potter could craft clay vases - almost a month to turn the block of material into an artistic marvel. Around the fountain itself were twelves statues, each placed in perfect alignment with a the sundial that was held aloft by the statue of an angelic woman with four great wings, wearing what looked like a silken shawl and a crown of gold leaves. The Magelord had loved it so much that he enchanted each statue to sing on the hour as the dial would turn towards them. Twelve statues would sing every day different stories, hymns and songs depending on the day and time. If some songs were too long, it could be sung throughout the whole day, for as soon as the dial left the statue, the carved angel would turn silent.

When Demyan reached the statue, it had already sung twice and was singing the third verse of an elvish tale he didn't know the meaning of. As he looked about, an old man waved at him, motioning him to approach.

"Ah… the 'Courtship of the Dancer'." the elderly man said as he looked at the statue that was singing �" quite literally, as each song was chanted as if the angelic statue was given life for the length of a few verses. "Quite the enlightening tale, don't you think?"

Demyan frowned for a moment. "I didn't come here to listen to old ballads. I was told someone wanted to see me." he commented, bringing his right hand to wipe sweat off his brow in between sentences.

The old man closed the book that rested in his right hand and placed it on his aged hips. "Now, now, I do remember teaching you how to be patient." he commented, to which the young Magelord's frown turned to shock.

"Teach? Wait… Master Scyens?" came the young man's reply, though most people didn't pay attention to his words, as the statue was finishing its verse before falling silent, trapped in it's current movement as one arm reached skyward, the other touching its chest, while its head was tilted upwards, eyes closed.

"I was expecting you to remember. Still, it has been less than a year since our last class." The scholarly Planar added, motioning Demyan to sit down, only to have Chime land on the book that rested on the elder's lap.

"Let's just say… that… things haven't been for the best, as of late." the young man answered as he sat down.

Chime jumped off Scyens' lap and landed on Demyan's. "I know, and I can only offer you my condolences on your loss. It was quite tragic." the teacher replied, rubbing his bead with his free hand. "I wondered if you were going to chase after the murderer, but I am curious to know as of why you have not."

Demyan clenched his fists. "I can't. There's too much as stake…" he answered, gritting his teeth. "If I die, who'll take care of Citadel? Of Karyana?"

The mention of the name made Scyens c**k an eyebrow. "You know that she is alive?" he asked.

"I can feel it… but I don't know where she is." the young Magelord replied. "It's like there's some sort of veil around her."

"A very astute remark, young mortal." the teacher replied. "There is not one, but two veils that shroud her. The first is a veil which blinds the eyes of those gifted with Reveen's teachings. The second is a veil that divides her mind. She is alive, yes, but so are the two aspects of her previous self."

The young man rested his chin on his hands, his elbows resting on his knees as he bent to think. "But why? Why was it that those two aspects appeared in the first place? And why did she reappear, ten years after mysteriously vanishing? I wish I could make sense of all this…"

The Planar scratched his chin for a moment before looking back at the boy. "It was not an accident that she was born, nor was it an accident that they were born." he cryptically answered. "What remains now is to wonder: can she unravel the mysteries that keep her mind divided, or will she need help?"

Demyan turned his head back to look at Scyens. "What are you talking about?" he quickly asked.

"Do you remember the tale of Hanad the Insane?" replied the teacher.

The young man remembered that story too well. It was a tale of how an old hermit named Hanad tried to find the secrets of life by studying the world from a looking-glass that allowed him to see things all over Medierth. The problem was that, with the power to see everything and anything in the world, his study led him to believe that he could scry a person's mind through the looking-glass. His less-than-honorary title was given to him when he tried to delve inside his own mind through the glass. The delving did allow him to see his thoughts, but gazing through the reflection became a spiral to madness, as he could see himself gazing at himself through the reflection, which was gazing at himself through another reflection and so on, until he couldn't tell which reflection was which.

"You see, Hevan lost himself because he tried to delve within his own mind. What you should do is delve into hers, then learn why she is in the state she is." Scyens concluded. "Maybe with this, you will learn how to create something to ease her mind, if I may say quite literally."

Demyan shook his head, looking away from the divine scholar for a moment. "But how can I find her? Where is she?"

Turning to look back at the scholar, the young man found the Planar to be missing from his seat, a book left behind. Picking the object up, he examined the title of it.

"The Battle of Dyurth Pass…"

----

Karyana was scared. That though passed through both Laurinya and Kaina's minds, and the message was clear; without any weapons, let alone proper garments, she was trapped.

"Please… put that away." Kaina spoke through the black-haired girl's lips.

Sayeth examined the girl's meek stance and brown eyes. "Give me one good reason I shouldn't just gut you."

A moment of pause, a blink, and the young woman's stance shifted to a more aggressive stance, her emerald eyes showing inner rage. "Maybe you should give me a good reason why I shouldn't just turn you into a living pyre!"

Sayeth cocked an eyebrow, turned her head, and let out a knowing laugh, which caused Laurinya's mind to question the dark-skinned elf's mental stability. "Are you playing me a fool?" the young sorceress replied. "I could-"

"You won't do anything, witch." the Dun-Elf answered. "We are standing in the center of Dyurth, Medieth's cesspool of shattered manaweaves and decimated dreams. Magic has no hold in this place. You can threaten me all you want, but in the end, all that will get you is my dagger through your throat!"

Before shock could be registered, Karyana's stance shifted again to a defensive, almost shivering mess. "But I… um… what's Dyurth?" she answered in a childish tone.

The dark elf woman let out a sigh as she examined the young woman once again, noticing after a moment that her eyes were now an almost crystalline blue. "Seems to me that you're the one who's ill-minded."

Blue shifted to brown. "It's just… a condition I have…" Kaina commented through Karyana's lips, putting her hands across her chest to cover what the scrap of cloth couldn't.

"A condition… right…" Sayeth replied with sarcasm dripping from those words, even as she walked around the frightened woman like a snake coiling around its prey. "You know, I sort of like you. You're…awkward. Vulnerable. I love a lackey who's vulnerable. It reminds me of hunting for prey."

Emerald eyes appeared as Laurinya lashed out, catching Sayeth's shoulder. "I'm not your prey, and I am not your lackey, and I can definitely hurt you."

This time, Sayeth burst into laughter. "Hurt me?!" she commented through bouts of loud laugh as she gripped her sides. "Oh, that's brilliant. That's rich. The only way you could hurt me was if I let you hurt me."

Laurinya examined the dark-skinned woman's blade and knew that there was no way around it; the elf had a point. She knew Dyurth was a place where no member of the Order dared to travel to, and it was also the worst place for anyone attuned to the manaweave.

"Are all Dun-elves as daft as you?" the sorceress replied, though somewhere in her mind, Kaina was telling her to avoid any sort of confrontation with this stranger. "Why didn't you just kill me when you had the chance?"

"I wouldn't get anything out of it." Sayeth replied, pressing her blade close to the cloth that kept the young woman's breasts from moving about. "Besides, killing you here and now? Maybe you're crazier than you look… and I like it when my prey is of a more... exotic state of mind."

Emerald shifted to blue as Karyana took a step back, holding herself in a poor defensive stance. "You don't mean… are you-"

Sayeth looked back at the water. "Enough talk. I don't want my campsite to get ruined by swine." she flatly concluded. "Follow me on the other side, and I might not kill you."

The young woman meekly nodded and waited for the Dun-elf to be at least ten paces in front in the water before stepping over to the shore. Removing the cloth that was wrapped around one of her feet, she dipped her toes in the water, as if to test it. It felt approvingly warm and inviting. Glancing around to make certain her 'captor' wasn't looking, she wrapped her foot back in its crude protection, took a deep breath and dove in.

The first thing that surprised her as she swam was how clear the water was, and how deep the lake went in some areas. Even more was the fact that, aside from the numerous rocks, there was the remnants of a small wagon, rusted and partially covered with sea grass.

While Sayeth stuck to the shallows, Karyana dove down to examine the worn-out metallic object. Even as she did, she could still hear the other two voices arguing in her head; while one wanted to surface as quickly as possible, the other wanted to swim in the other direction to escape from the she-elf.

She didn't listen to either as she spotted a chest in the submerged vehicle. The object was partially covered in sea grass and barnacles, but the wood seemed still intact, though the hinges had some rust on it. It took her a good deal of effort to swim down to the chest, even more to lift it and almost all her strength to carry the object to the surface.

The dark-skinned elf slipped out of the water, grumbling at the unwanted bath. Like most of her kin, she preferred being dry, except when it meant being sprayed by the blood of victims. Being soaked head-to-foot, her clothes dripping with a mix of dried sweat, washed-off dirt and lake water, she grabbed at her hair and twisted it to dry it out.

As she examined the lake's surface, wondering if her 'lackey' was foolish enough to follow, Sayeth noticed Karyana's head breaking the surface of the small lake. "Enjoying yourself, I see." she said, a faint smirk on her face.

The young woman was still too far from the grey-skinned woman to see her eye color change. "Were you worried about us?" Kaina asked, even as she dragged the chest behind her.

Sayeth shook her head. "Still talking to invisible friends?" she asked wryly. "Why don't you start talking to me? I'm great company. I tell the funniest jokes."

Another shift, but this time, no answer until she reached the makeshift campsite. "I found something." she childishly answered. "A big box in the water."

As much as the Dun-elf was examining the chest that the young woman dragged behind her, her eyes mostly shifted to her lackey's drenched body. With water pearling on her skin, and the black cascade of hair catching the light of the morning sun, Sayeth found her would-be victim… more and more interesting.

"I have no idea who you are, but it looks like you're bringing me good luck." the dark-skinned elf replied, flipping her dagger in her hand expertly, making the blade twirl. "Now, let's see what you fished out, lackey."

Karyana's eye color changed to emerald as quickly as the words escaped her mouth. "I told you before. I'm not your lackey! And I have a name, you know!"

Sayeth rolled her eyes. "Minor details, and that's something I don't want to know." she replied, showing little interest in her lackey's words.

The dark elf examined the rusted lock that hung from the chest. "Looks like a Pakkun lock. Good stuff; what's inside might be worth keeping you around." she commented while grabbing a rock off the ground, slamming it against the rusty hinges that held the lock in place.

Karyana took a few steps away from Sayeth before watching the lock break off of the smashed hinges. The she-elf was far from interested in the young woman's moment of shyness and more in what the chest might contain as she threw the stone away and opened the container.

"Well, well, well! What do we have here?" Sayeth spoke as she pulled out what appeared to be a strange suit of armor. The shoulder guards looked a bit wide, while the object seemed to have been fashioned from a make-shift corset. There were also a set of plain, silver-plated greaves, a pair of gold-emblazoned arm bands and what resembled a long dress with a silver neckline with a woven-in leather belt. "It looks like some weaver's robe from before the tyrant's era."

An unremarked eye color shift led to Laurinya speaking her mind. "Is that worth anything?" she asked, stepping out from behind the large rock where Karyana hid from the dark elf.

Before Sayeth could ask 'What's it to you?', she noticed two things: one, the young woman was still drenched, almost nude, and shivering; and two, the dress looked absolutely unflattering on her. "Put it on." she said, tossing the dark-green garment.

"Um… are you alright?" came a hesitant reply from Kaina.

"Just put the damn thing on!" Sayeth shouted angrily as she strapped on her own armor. "If you want to get out of here, then we can't be seen with you looking like some urchin from Saburbia, or some traded slave from the Shimmering Fields!"

In Karyana's minds, three opinions were being said. Laurinya thought the dark elf was crazy to keep her alive. Kaina was grateful that she didn't gut her like she threatened to. Karyana noticed something that the other two didn't: that for a moment, her 'captor' acted… nice to her.

Author's Note

Any and all comments, reviews and critiques will be welcome.