Completed Beyond the Pale

[Noel]

“Once you make a decision, the universe conspires to make it happen.”
Ralph Waldo Emerson​

Muriel was scared.

It was obvious in the slight droop her posture suffered. In the way her lower lip would occasionally quiver after uttering certain consonant sounds. In the dozens of tiny little tells that only a handful of people she trusted enough to call ‘friends’ could pick up on.

Of course, the number of friends she had left had dwindled to a party of one.

“I’m thinkin’ you should go rouse the gang,” Brennan’s words were light, “I know it’s all gone to shit, and I know you’re scared, but those kids are scared too.”

All true. And as much as she wanted to crawl back under the covers, bury her face into her pillow, and let loose a horrid scream she knew he was right. She knew that they looked up to her, knew that it was a burden only she could really bare.

“Fine.”

Flipping off her blanket and standing she sashayed towards the pile of clothing that had been tossed to the floor the night before. Pushing a tuft of blonde hair behind one ear she pulled up a pair of trousers before sliding on a knit shirt. Brennan had been one of her oldest confidants and by the time he became more than just a friend it surprised absolutely no one who’d been familiar with the pair.

“I’ll go address troops,” she said while strapping on her leather armor and affixing a belt lined with daggers across her waist.

A few moments later the two of them were out in the common area. Caleb looked up at her with a gloomy expression, Sasha pretended not to notice the two had come in as she stirred a pot of broth, and Johan wore his ever present optimism.

“Look,” Muriel started with as brave of a voice as she could muster, “I know things haven’t been going our way.” Suddenly the group, even Sasha, had given her their full attention. “But, we’re going to get out of here. Tonight.”

Johan smiled at her while Caleb scoffed. Brennan placed an affirming hand upon Muriel’s shoulder before he spoke up. “Muriel’s right. We’ve got a good window to steal a wagon, and should have enough rations and room to get us halfway to Maraan.”

Sasha began to scoop the meager broth into bowls, then passed out the liquid to each of them. “Last we’ve got,” she said with half starved eyes.

Muriel waited until each of them had a bowl, then she moved towards the last three of her survivors and poured her serving into theirs, dividing it as equally as possible. “I won’t lie to you,” she said just as she was pouring the last of her supper into Caleb’s portion, “this last job won’t be without risk. However, if we can get to Maraan we’re in the clear.”

Anirians wouldn’t send her that far outside of their borders. Not for petty thieves like them. “It’s our best play.”

 

[Noel]

“When seeking revenge, dig two graves - one for yourself.”
Douglas Horton​

Noel had slain them one by one, like the head’s of a hydra.

Ephraim had told her of the troubles in the western provinces of Vel Anir. A sophisticated band of rogues were robbing supply carts and caravans. But unlike typical bandits they merely targeted re-supply carts of the Anirian state. Never merchants, never citizens, just the wagons that were meant to feed the Guardsmen stationed on the frontier of Vel Anir’s territory.

It likely meant they were agents from a hostile state. Or Cortosi “freedom” fighters. Or maybe… even affiliated with Gilram.

That man, that terrible turncoat of an archon, still haunted her memory.

He’d absconded with her classmates. With people she spent her entire life getting to know. People she viewed as family.

And, indeed, as Noel carved a path through this insurrectionist cell of bandits she’d learned that at least one of them had contact with Gilram. It had been with the third captain of the little group she’d learned that tidbit.

“Please, make it stop!” He’d screamed at her as spikes of platinum stretched muscle, bone, and tendon. The allomancer had never been a fan of torture or inflicting unnecessary pain. Her thought process had always been around efficiency. But in her time serving with the Black Guard she’d learned that pain could be a powerful motivation tool to ease out the truth you wanted.

Noel glanced down at her nails, a smirk shining between her cheeks, ”you know how to make it stop.” The metal embedded into her victim's flesh stretched further. ”How does your little cohort know when the Anirian supply routes are coming? How do they know to pick the most lightly defended ones?”

It had been a mystery that had baffled all of them and the previous two captains had held their tongues. This time, however, she’d gone further in her torture.

“S-some Dreadlord, l-like you, but their patch was different.”

Every hair on Noel’s skin perked up at that. So it was someone affiliated with Gilram’s little gaggle. ”And how did you get into contact with this individual?”

“P-please miss, I can’t, oh god I can’t feel my arms…”

The metal tightened, a scream bellowed out into the darkness of night, and then her prisoner spoke further.

“I d-don’t know how we first got in touch with them. He’d just tell us who to meet, tell us where.”

That had been all Noel had gotten out of her prey. She ended him not long after that and after a day or so of searching she’d isolated the location of where the last cell operated. Some tiny little hovel north of the Cortosi coast, near the very edge of Anirian territory.

She’d learned that the group of terrorists she’d hunted, along with other criminals in the region, had begun to refer to her in hushed tones. The Dreadlord adorned in metal who hunted and slaughtered criminals in the plains.

 

[Noel]

“I don’t like it,” Caleb protested for the umpteenth time, “so many things can go wrong. Are we really this desperate?”

Muriel cocked an eyebrow at the headstrong man who’d been with her from the start. “We ate flavorless broth for four days because we ran out of food. Yeah, we’re this desperate.”

Caleb’s demeanor didn’t stray, the boy had given up hope a month ago. But human nature was funny like that, even without hope people still wanted to survive. People would still be risk averse if they thought their chance at survival was in jeopardy.

“Muriel, this is crazy though. If we’re wrong about a single thing we could be walking into a trap.”

“We aren’t going to strong arm those farmers,” it had been an idea that Caleb had floated before. A small family who had a farmstead a few miles east. They’d resorted to eating animal feed last time Muriel had checked on them. “They’re not much better off than we are anyways.”

“Then we hunt for meat. Or something.”

“And wait for the Iron-clad Dreadlord to come find us?”

Caleb actually let loose a snicker at that. “You don’t really believe that shit do you? A bunch of myths spread by the Guard. They wouldn’t send a Dreadlord to deal with us.”

It was something that Muriel had already considered, truth be told, but she knew her old captains well. They’d all been friends since she was a child. The ones she’d trusted to lead individual units were smart enough not to fall for a trap set by the Guard.

She was confident that something was hunting them. Picking them off one-by-one.

Though she had to give Caleb credit. “I don’t know why they sent a Dreadlord after us,” there was enough chaos in Vel Anir right now, they certainly didn’t have enough Dreadlords to spare on such a small operation, “but I know that there’s something that fucking terrifies me breathing down my neck.”

Caleb stayed silent.

 

[Noel]

A bit more coin paid, a bit more information trickled in.

Out this far the residents of Vel Anir were desperate. Even a little bit of gold could go a long way. Loosen lips, coax tongues.

She’d learned a lot about this sect of bandits in that time. They always moved around, they kept themselves spread out, different captains ran each one. They all operated on a schedule, preferring to strike at night.

From what Noel had gathered they were getting intel from Gilram’s troops about general supply routes but everything she had come to understand didn’t explain how they’d figured out which caravans were less guarded than the others.

In fact, to combat this, the Anirians had started sending an equal number of Guards regardless of how big or small the supply cart was.

But then they hit a cart that happened to be a man down because of illness the prior day.

It was baffling. A riddle she still didn’t fully understand.

“Small group, weird kids, come here from time to time,” the local innkeeper told her after she slid him a few coins, “haven’t been around in awhile though, looked pretty glum last I saw ‘em.”

”Thanks.” she said with a satisfied grin, passing a final coin to the man, ”I may be back. If they come again, memorize every detail you can.”
Noel didn’t anticipate they’d get another chance to visit the tavern and she had a sneaking suspicion why they’d stayed hidden. They’d realized they were the last group of bandits left. The last criminals she was ready to bring to justice.

 

[Noel]

“The world of men is dreaming, it has gone mad in its sleep, and a snake is strangling it, but it can’t wake up.”
D.H. Lawrence​

It was a simple enough plan. They’d get in early, there’d only be three guards, and then they’d abscond with the horse and buggy. Eat a proper meal as they steered the horse north towards the Empire. Towards freedom.

Was odd enough a Dreadlord was involved at all. Would be far more odd if they were pursued into Imperial territory.

“You really think we can do this?” Sasha asked once more as the chirp of crickets surrounded them.

“Of course.”

Muriel was positive this wouldn’t be as big of a risk as a few of them, particularly Caleb, had made it out to be.

Silence permeated the two of them as they kept watch on the eve of their grand mission. Sasha leaned against the railing of the abandoned shack they’d taken up residence in and lit herself a smoke.

Muriel glanced over towards her acolyte as the younger woman took a puff from her tobacco pipe. “They’re just as scared as we are,” she said. And then, seeing how unimpressed Sasha was, added, “I mean it. I’ve seen it.”

“Uh huh,” Sasha took an uncharacteristically long drag, “just not sure why you couldn’t see the rest of what happened.”

It was a thing they rarely discussed openly. They had rules, always indoors, always in isolated conditions, always with permission from Muriel herself. Sasha openly breaking those rules was just an indication of how badly things had gone.

A sigh slipped before the straw-haired leader of this operation plucked two fingers against Sasha’s pipe and pulled the device towards her own lips. Inhaling the smoke, letting it seep into her lungs, before blowing a giant puff of smoke up towards the stars.

“You know why.”

 

[Noel]

Noel had gotten a full brief before deploying to this region of Vel Anir.

Decimated by isolated conflicts that even the noble houses struggled to contain before the revolution. An all out war and famine as a result of the revolution. Within that no-man’s land of a region that wasn’t really Cortos, wasn’t really Vel Anir, and wasn’t really the Empire.

Sure, Vel Anir claimed it as part of their territory. And sure, at one point it had been Anirian land.

But now? Now it was whoever had the strength to claim it for themself.

And, to their credit, Vel Anir had been trying. Bolstering their troops, increasing their presence, but groups like the one Noel hunted had caused serious issues. In a land so far removed from the capital city they normally would’ve cast a blind eye. Decided it was just a frontier territory of loose control.

Little resources. Little to lose. Little to gain.

But for Noel? She’d confirmed that someone in their organization had ties to Gilram. Someone in their little group was one of that awful traitor’s consigliere. Probably just a lone rebel working an angle.

Or maybe it was something more sinister.

Regardless, she’d play the angle until she found out where Gilram’s troop hid out. She’d run that intel back to Ephraim and she’d petition every loyal Archon she could. One big operation to hit that terrible man, cut his knees out, decimate everything he cared about.

Of course, she’d negotiate that some of them would be spared.

The members of her class who had defected, the ones who didn’t know better. The ones who thought they were about to be killed by the Proctors. Misled by Gilram’s lies. She’d make sure they all lived, they’d all be rehabilitated.

But the rest of them? They’d perish. By her blade or someone else’s.

 

[Noel]

“Damn it!” Johan’s scream resonated as a Guardsmen began choking upon his own blood. Another member of the Anirian Guard rushing towards the young rogue.

Blade drawn, Johan’s fate surely sealed, until an ax clattered against the impending blade. Brennan stood, defending the young soldier before the state-sponsored trooper could gouge a blade through his target.

In a rapid flurry of motion Brennan disarmed his foe and beheaded him. Two of their targets down.

And then Sasha let a bolt from her crossbow fly and the third felt a bolt impact his lower cranium.

They’d slain the only Guardsmen protecting this tiny little cart. A cart filled with nothing more than oats, a meal that might as well have been ambrosia to the group of half-starved thieves who’d planned this operation.

“Let’s move,” Muriel barked as she moved to inspect Johan.

Blood poured out his left arm but otherwise the youngest among them seemed alright.

He looked upwards at her and whimpered, “I’m fine. Just got careless. We should head towards Maraan.”

Muriel nodded as she tore cloth from one of the downed Guardsmen and wrapped it tightly around Johan’s wound. At the very end she pierced a needle through the cloth to keep it in place. “Should help to staunch the bleeding. We’ll get you to a proper healer when we make it to Maraan.”

Brennan took the reins with Muriel saddled beside him. The other three took their places in the back, prepping the oats for a feast that would satisfy the group’s grumbling stomachs. For the first time in a very long time they finally felt like things were looking up.

Like things would be okay.

 

[Noel]

Three bodies.

All three were members of the Guard. Slain in the line of duty like the others had been. Noel grimaced for only a moment as she pulled upon the reins of her steed tightly.

There was a moment, however brief, that the raven-haired girl thought of evaluating the bodies closer. Seeing if there was any clue she could glimpse upon. See if she knew what she was about to get herself into.

But then she threw caution to the wind.

She pursued the tracks left by the murderers. Pursued the fleeing cart that ran north towards the end of Anirian territory. Towards the end of where her legal authority lay. She’d catch them.

Then she’d find out where Gilram was.

No matter what.

 

[Noel]

“I dreamt I was a butterfly, flitting around in the sky; then I awoke. Now I wonder: Am I a man who dreamt of being a butterfly, or am I a butterfly dreaming that I am a man?”
Zhuangzi​

Brennan, for the first time in months, felt at ease.

His stomach was full of a mixture of oats and water. The woman he loved was asleep and resting her chin upon his shoulder. His best mates were all safely in the back of the wagon he steered.

And they were finally getting out of here. Finally getting away with it all.

Because, unbeknownst to all of ‘em, he’d struck a deal with a pal from long ago. A friend he’d made in his youth named Mae Heilig. Through her he’d met Gilram and he’d learned which routes the Anirians ran supply wagons. Which days and times they tended to move.

And, if he promised to make sure they were disrupted, they’d leave the gal he loved alone.

Cause with Muriel’s little ability they could find out when to strike. And if they caused enough mayhem then Mae promised that Gilram wouldn’t come to take his lover away. Take her into whatever sick cult they had going which preached that those born with magic were somehow superior. Somehow better than the rest of ‘em.

Muriel didn’t think that. He didn’t think that. But a bunch of sickos with unimaginable power could easily make short work of himself and the rest of ‘em. And they’d all been through enough. War, famine, disease. The last year’d been hell.

They deserved this. Deserved to get away. Deserved to retire. Deserved to forget that Vel Anir even existed.

 

[Noel]

Noel was catching up.

The tracks she was following grew ever fresher as her horse raced onwards. Soon this would all be over, she’d eliminate the last of the terrorists who were targeting the Anirian supply lines and she’d hopefully get a lead on a Gilram operative or stronghold.

The amount of satisfaction she felt was nearly overwhelming.

It had been the longest operation she’d undertaken as a Dreadlord. Not even as an initiate had something been so grueling and strenuous as this task. She’d spent every waking moment interviewing locals, chasing down leads, and ending the lives of the evil doers who wished Vel Anir harm.

And now it was all close to coming to an end.

With luck she’d finish off the last of these parasites tonight. This group of miscreants consisted of only five individuals if her information was accurate and she knew that her Gilram informant was one of the men. She’d make them suffer, drive out exactly how this person was making contact with the traitors, and then she could move on to a more direct attack against Gilram’s little cronies.

There had been times on this mission when Noel felt she might’ve gone too far. That she might’ve crossed a line she never imagined herself capable of before. That she’d committed acts she couldn’t ever undo.

But then she remembered Edric, Gaage, Talea, Fermin, or any of the others who’d graduated with her and left back on that day. She remembered the nightmare that Mieri had been put through by Amelie. Remembered that for the first time in her life the little family she’d managed to eek out in Vel Anir was being threatened by something.

”I’m going to end you,” she said to the night sky.

If she’d gone too far, if she’d become someone who was truly terrible, it would all be worth it so long as she saw Gilram die. At least, that’s what she kept telling herself.

 

[Noel]

After riding hard through the night they’d settled down just a short pace from the roadway. Off the path and into some brush to keep out of sight. No one was following them, that’d be insane, but they didn’t want to camp out in the open and have some passing patrol recognize the wagon or horse as being related to the Anirian state.

So instead they settled in and planned to get back on the road by sunup.

But, well, getting to sleep in was a luxury. They were so close to freedom and none of them really wanted to be the person who forced them all to awaken. Least of all Muriel.

No, they’d sleep in a bit later. Maybe start a fire and eat a quick breakfast now that they actually had food to eat. They’d get back on their way to Maraan when they got on their way. There wasn’t any hurry, wasn’t any need for them to get up any earlier than they wished.

Sasha, however, was of a different mindset.

Rising first and then setting off towards the small creek that ran alongside the Anirian highway. She must’ve just been thirsty. The diminutive woman even took a large pot with her, likely to ensure the entire group had something to drink as they awoke. Or, perhaps, she planned to cook them breakfast.

Either gesture was with that girl’s nature. Always thinking of others instead of herself. It was one of the reasons why Muriel had insisted Sasha be assigned to her own group.

“Mornin’ love,” Brennan said as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, “when should we depart?”

Muriel let loose a mighty yawn. “I dunno, was thinking we should,” she stopped speaking and her brows raised in concern as she heard something that caused her spine to tingle.

Sasha was screaming.

 

[Noel]

Noel had found their encampment.

Nearly an hour after dawn and they were all still off the road, didn’t even bother to hide their tracks, sleeping. Perhaps she hadn’t inspired as much fear into these vermin as she thought.

Her movement through the brush halted as she saw one of them, a woman with curls, walking directly towards her. They were going to make this easy for her.

Her target bent down to scoop water from the creek into a vessel and Noel decided this would be her move. An easy one to take down, then she could move to the rest. From what she’d learned the leader of this organization was a blonde woman, no need to spare this creature who was within reach.

And it would’ve gone perfectly, a quiet kill, then she could’ve approached their camp and easily captured the rest of the crew. But, unfortunately, just as Noel’s armor re-shaped itself into a spear the woman happened to look in her killer’s direction.

She bellowed out a sharp series of screams before Noel was able to plunge her weapon through the terrorist’s heart.

”Damn it,” she muttered as she broke into a full sprint in the direction of the others. The rest of the crew was already rousing themselves awake, taking up arms, but they were all dead the moment their Dreadlord pursuer had caught up to them.

They just didn’t realize it yet.

 

[Noel]

“That we continue to exist at all is a testament to our faith in one another.”
Robert Kurvitz​

Sasha was dead.

Muriel’s eyes and brain were comprehending that fact but her mind was struggling to catch up. Struggling to process what her brain was telling her was real. Struggling to deal with anything other than the overwhelming grief she felt as she saw the last moments of her friend’s life.

And as the armor-clad figure ran towards them she knew that Sasha wouldn’t be the last of them to die today.

What she didn’t realize was just how fast it would all happen.

Muriel fell to her knees and froze, just watching as the horror unfolded around her.

Johan tried to fight back, he was as brave as ever, and he lost his left arm in the process. Caleb tried running but the Dreadlord pursuing them somehow threw metal. The metal she threw collided with Caleb’s knees and wrapped itself around him like a blanket, pinning him to the grass.

Then, most surprising, was Brennan. He grabbed a short sword from the wagon and instead of trying to fight off their attacker he was pressing the pointed end against his sternum. Trying to measure a way to end his own life?

It was in vain though. Somehow the blade folded into itself. Collapsing into just an oddly shaped pile of metal shards.

Was she dreaming? Still asleep? Was any of this really happening?

As if reality wished to remind her of her situation the Dreadlord who pursued them now stood above her. In less than a minute it had all been over.

”You must be the leader of this operation. I’m saving you for last.”

A fist bore into Muriel’s gut and then a second punch collided with her cheek. The ground beneath her spun and her ears began to ring.

“Stop it!” Brennan called out, rushing over towards them in tears.

 

[Noel]

“I believe that whatever you do in your life it will get back to you. If you live long enough it will.”
Cormac McCarthy​

Noel had bound the four of them. She rounded them up in a circle and began what she’d found most effective. Metal shavings into fingernails, slowly rotated to cut deeper and shave flesh. It was agonizing and one of the best motivators she’d experimented with on this little expedition of hers.

The one they called ‘Brennan’ had been weeping but it only took a single round of torture before he admitted to being the one who had ties with Gilram.

“What!?” Muriel, their leader, protested. It was obvious that Brennan had acted of his own accord, “why would you, Brennan… why?”

Their leader was in tears now too. She likely realized now that it was Brennan’s actions that had gotten the Black Guard - and Noel’s - attention. Realized that whoever this man was had doomed them all.

“He knew Muriel. He knew what you can do. I didn’t want him to take you… I can’t…”

Sobs followed, it was something Noel couldn’t be bothered by at the moment. ”Who is your contact?”

If had been someone from her class, maybe she could talk sense into them. If it had been one of Gilram’s other whelps? Well, that name would go on the list.

“Mae. Mae Heilig. We only met a few times. Then we used drops, a cypher, notes are in the satchel.” Brennan choked back his tears and straightened his back as he made eye contact with Noel for the first time. “Just, please, spare the rest of ‘em. I’m the one you’re after. I’ll do whatever you want.”

”Do you know where they are now? Where one of Gilram’s hideouts is?”

“No miss, I swear, I don’t. Just, please, spare ‘em.”

A blade formed in Noel’s hand and Brennan’s head rolled to the grass after one clean swipe. There was blood, more screams, but the man had been honest and his notes about the drops and cypher were apparently in his pack. His life had no more meaning and she was now the executor of justice here on the frontier.

”You,” she glared at Muriel with hatred, ”why would Gilram be interested in you?”

Muriel looked up at Noel, tears streaming down her face, lip quivering. A look of defiance, of hatred, emblazoned upon her face.

She wouldn’t talk, that much was obvious. So, Noel turned her attention towards the man whom she’d disarmed earlier. Johan they’d called him. ”You know why, tell me. Why is Gilram interested in her?”

“I don’t know miss Dreadlord, I swear, I have no idea why the-”

His head rolled next. Muriel whimpered, Caleb pissed himself.

”You,” she said while pointing the blade that was now covered in the blood of two of his comrades at him, ”why?”

“She’s a dreamer,” Caleb spoke up immediately. “Let me live, let me go, and I’ll tell you everything.”

 

[Noel]

“I think we dream so we don’t have to be apart so long. If we’re in each other’s dreams, we can play together all night.”
Bill Watterson​

”She can walk into dreams?”

“Aye. But she’s gotta be asleep. And whoever she speaks with has to be asleep too. And if you aren’t familiar with it you’ll probably just think you’re dreaming.”

Noel rubbed at her chin and looked Caleb over. ”That’s how you operated all of those cells, spread out all across the frontier. How you coordinated attacks.”

They had intel from Gilram and the ability to communicate across vast distances. It created a new wrinkle in what Noel had originally envisioned.

”And if she wished to could she enter the dreams of Gilram’s forces? Ask them questions?”

“Probably. I don’t know exactly how it works other than what she’s told me but I think she just needs a name and a few nights to locate them or something. Don’t know if they're willing to spill secrets to a stranger in their dreams but, well, most people are pretty open when they’re dreaming.”

Muriel had been quiet throughout all of this. Staring daggers at Caleb while she continued crying.

”Excellent, that’ll be it Caleb.”

“W-wait, you said you’d spare me if I,” he didn’t get to finish. He’d outlived his usefulness and Noel didn’t need anyone else who knew about Muriel alive right now.

Muriel looked up at the Dreadlord, fury still present despite her tears, despite the shimmer of her eyes. “You’re a monster. A sadistic, evil, monster.”

Noel laughed.

”You’re one to talk. Your gang of terrorists have been killing Guardsmen, stealing supplies meant for the war effort against Gilram. Threatening the safety of all honest Anirians.” Noel leaned back against the stolen wagon, crossing her arms and shaking her head in disbelief at the gall this criminal had.

Muriel scoffed at her. “We were honest Anirians. Once upon a time.”

A look of disdain was cast towards the prisoner as Noel contemplated how to respond to that. How to tell this piece of shit all of the awful things that she’d made Noel do. All of the hell she’d put her comrades through just so they could do… whatever it was Muriel wanted.

But, she didn’t get the chance to.

“Your Dreadlords fought their little revolution. Your little scuffles with Cortos. All while those of us on the frontier of your civilization’s territory starved. We strove through a famine, a revolt, and a republic that promised us a better life. And now we have another war with Gilram. Our options were to steal and live or live honestly and die.”

Muriel’s tears had stopped as she looked up at her nemesis. Her breathing quickened for a second before she composed herself. “We chose life.”

It was why they’d refrained from robbing merchants or citizens. Why they’d just targeted agents of the state they’d felt abandoned them. Why Muriel wasn’t a friend to Gilram nor to Vel Anir but only to those she chose.

And none of that mattered. Noel had to stop Gilram. Had to rescue her own friends.

”Whatever. I’m taking you to the academy.”

Maybe she hadn’t gotten a straight answer on where their hideout had been. Maybe she’d taken things too far on this mission. But she wasn’t leaving empty handed, and with a magic as useful as Muriel’s they might just get what they needed to flip the script on Gilram and his little cohort.