Private Tales The Failure of Nobility

[Kristen Pirian]

Were the Proctors been telling the truth? Did they lie? Had they actually intended to kill Kristen, Edric, or the two of them together by sending them on a mission destined to fail, or had the mission failed all on its own rotten luck? These were all more or less abstract questions. Worrisome, yes. Terrifying, certainly. Sources of newfound determination, surprisingly. But abstract they had been.

Now, all of sudden, they weren't. Staring anxiously at the score of armed men, the consequences which followed from the answers to these questions would be real and immediate.

It started off tamely enough. Edric was carefully generic with his responses. And then the question was turned to Kristen.

"Y-Yes." She didn't like the timidity of her stammer. She tried again. "Yes. We survived a disaster, only to become lost. It is a miracle we found--"

Another of the men, with an intensely furrowed brow and blazing glare, interrupted. Said in accented Common, "They have violated the sacred waters with their filth."

Indeed, the accumulated grime of hard, desperate travel through an open desert floated in faint but noticeable patches around the two of them.

Edric

 

[Edric]

He considered for a moment, watching, waiting. Then added. "We didn't know."

There was a long pause.

No one said anything, no one even tried. It was as if the two men that had spoken so far were locked in some strange struggle that no one actually heard. A solid minute passed, and Edric found himself wondering if he would have to resign himself to imprisonment.

He would be able to escape eventually. It would take time, but they couldn't kill him. He would just have to make sure th-

"Get out of the waters."​

The first man barked suddenly, his voice cutting.

Edric hesitated a moment, and then looked to Kristen. After a few moments he began to wade forward, passing the other Initiate and stepping onto the shore. "We are sorry, we were just glad to find water."

The words did not seem to placate the man, but he frowned.

"Ignorance is no excuse, but also not cause for execution."​

Had the proctors lied? It was certainly possible, but a sense of danger still hung over all of this. One that he couldn't shake.

 

[Kristen Pirian]

The wait was agonizing. Those two men who'd spoke, their silent deliberation exchanged in stony expressions, seemed to go on for far longer than a minute. Yet when the moment was broken, it wasn't much better.

Get out of the waters.

Kristen shared the glance of uncertainty with Edric. She, too, was hesitant, perhaps for the same reason as him or perhaps not. The prospect of these armed men extending a charitable helping hand to them was dismal. She was wary of putting herself at their mercy, but at the same time, with her body made frail by lack of sustenance and accumulated fatigue, she was dubious about the amount of resistance she could muster if the encounter so came to it.

What the first man said next helped, yes, but it did not totally assuage her fears.

Kristen, nevertheless, followed after Edric, her hands half-raised in a meager gesture of peace. One thing she didn't want to do was commit some instigating faux pas, some affront other than what they had already evidently done in the waters.

"We were dying," Kristen said. Water dripped at a steady rate from her arming garments, the dribbling sound of it on the ground constant. "We meant no offense. Truly."

The second man, with the blazing glare in his brilliantly bronze eyes, looked thoroughly unappeased.

"You are not from these lands." His hard gaze flicked between Edric and Kristen. "From where have you come?"

Edric

 

[Edric]

"Cortos." Edric answered before Kristen could.

People knew of Vel Anir the world over. They were an expansionist, military nation. Claiming to be of their heritage would give them no benefit here. These people likely had not suffered under the yolk of the Anirians, but why take the chance?

Best to lie. "We're sailors...well, were sailors."

The lies steadily flowed from his tongue now. It seemed a bit easier, and the man shockingly seemed to believe him.

"Left the ship in Saiene and then decided to become Merchant Guard." The story wasn't an elaborate one. "But our Caravan was attacked and..."

Edric didn't finish his sentence, allowing the man and his companions to paint the picture themselves. It would be better that way. At least he thought so.

"We have heard this story before, but it does not usually end here..."​

The man said, trailing off.

"Come. You will meet the Sibyl, and she will decide your fate."​

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Kristen swallowed a sigh of relief when Edric spoke up, answering the question of their origins. All of her peers, maybe with the exception of Sable and perhaps a couple others, were so well versed at lying--a far cry from her. Her life may well depend on it here, and still she felt the compulsion to tell the truth. Would another few years of Dreadlord training at the Academy break this streak of honesty in her, she wondered.

Whether or not the armed men bought the fabrication, Kristen couldn't say. Regardless, the first man deferred their fate to a woman named Sibyl. Their true leader? An...oracle or mystic, maybe? Kristen was unsure of the proper terminology for the cultures in this region of the world.

The men started to walk. Some ahead, some lingering behind, the intent on keeping Edric and Kristen in the middle of their group. Nowhere to run.

The second man, eyes still ablaze, came close to Edric and Kristen (he was nearly a foot shorter than the two, yet his menace was unblemished by this) and said to them in a low tone, "I do not like outsiders," before stalking off to walk behind them. To keep a steady eye on them, surely.

As their walk through the oasis's foliage began, Kristen spared a glance over to Edric. Oh...she wished that she was more fluent in the sign language of the Dreadlords. What if he needed to communicate with her surreptitiously? As it stood, with Edric's sense for danger being far sharper than Kristen's own, she'd have to be ready to follow-through on any move he made.

Edric

 

[Edric]

Edric moved slowly until he was in the midst of the strange men. He made sure that Kristen stepped alongside him, never wanting to leave her on her own.

He well remembered what she had been like back in that city, calling out to Archon Gilram as though he were an old friend. The Initiate was pretty sure if she tried something like that here that he would personally strangle her and just claim that she had driven him mad. Not like anyone could blame him at that point.

Luckily, Kristen remained silent as the twenty or so sand dwellers lead them around the lake.

They moved until they found a small sandbank that seemed to jut out into the water.

A frown touched Edric's lips, and he was about to open his mouth to ask a question when the lead man fell to the ground. A chant like prayer escaped his throat, ringing out into the air like an echoing song. It rung within the sky, and the ground began to shake.

The lake in front of them split, and slowly a bridge rose from the water itself.

It extended out from where they stood, reaching the island where the tower in the center of the lake rose above. Edric frowned, watching the display. His hand flickered in signal to Kristen.

Be ready to kill. He only hoped she understood.

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Kristen watched in understated awe as the bridge rose up from the lake, waterfalls running off of it from end to end and white water foaming on the surface. Her gaze graduated up slowly from the sight of the hidden bridge to the tower itself, their clear destination.

A familiar scraping terror raked the back of her neck. Flashbacks, minor in their potency, of her kidnapping and her captivity. The present and the past seemed to converge in a ghastly rising chorus. Kristen pinched her eyes shut for a moment, trying to banish the creeping terror. She was for the most part successful. Yet the score of armed men around both her and Edric couldn't be denied.

The tiniest motion caught Kristen's attention. Her eyes moved while her head stayed forward.

Edric was signing something. Oh gosh. Oh no. Snickerdoodle! All right. Okay. Calm down. Think it through. Think back to your lessons. Think!

"Move," said the man with the blazing bronze eyes as he jabbed Kristen in the back with his knuckles.

She started forward, walking and remembering, walking and remembering.

Ready...be ready...what was that last one?...the last one...ohh...it felt so familiar...like it had been gone over at length several times, yet for some reason she was struggling to--

Kill.

Be ready to kill.

Kristen swallowed. Glanced surreptitiously to Edric again in a sidelong manner.

The light tinge of nervousness she could not hide from her eyes.

Edric

 

[Edric]

Slowly the two Initiates were escorted across the sandy bridge.

Edric seemed to tense the whole way, every muscle, every tendon ready to snap at a moments notice. He didn't know what to expect, what would come next, but he was ready to kill at a seconds notice. Paranoia gripped his very heart.

Growing worse as they stepped towards that massive tower.

Time itself seemed to slow with every step. The beat of his heart was like thunder in his ears, sounding out over and over again. It was a steady song, almost calming in a way as he walked towards what he was sure was his execution.

The sound continued, until finally Kristen and Edric found themselves in a grand open chamber. There were no statues. No mosaics. No decorations of any sort that might hint at where they were.

"Stay."​

The voice erupted from behind them. The men that had escorted them lingered at a great stone door, and as Edric glanced back, it slowly fell shut. "Shit."

The Initiate cursed.

"We're dead." He cursed, more to himself than Kristen. The two Apprentices trapped within the stone tower.

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Kristen flinched when the stone door shut, even though it was slow and relatively quiet. But it was that terrible feeling, that feeling of being locked in a cage, trapped, held, captured. The dimness of the grand chamber was no comfort, and though she neither saw nor heard anything alarming, her hands and fingers started with their jitters, their trembling.

Sometimes the imagination doled out worse fates than reality. And, for the moment, she and Edric were left to stew in it.

Who was telling the truth? The Proctors? The nomads? Was the Heart of Aktash dangerous? Was there a woman named Sibyl in here at all?

"...Hello?" Kristen's voice barely went above speaking volume, far short of calling out as she intended. A funny thing. So nervous was she that she was prompted to attempt calling out in greeting to this supposed Sibyl, yet that very same nervousness quelled any further attempt.

The meager word just drifted in the air.

Edric

 

[Edric]

"Fear not, wayward Anirians."​

A voice seemed to resound throughout the entirety of the hall. It echoed out, a rush that boomed within Edric's ears and sounded within his skull. The Initiate seemed to flinch, as if trying to pull away from the words only to find they were stuck there.

What they said didn't even register for a few seconds, and when they finally did he seemed to freeze.

"Sent to death at such a young age."​

A 'tsk' rang out within the room, and then suddenly from the darkness melted a figure. A wraith like woman with flowing silken robes of black dragged itself from the shadows. Her face was concealed by a veil, her eyes missing, and yet she seemed to stare directly at the two Initiates.

Her skin was as pale as a ghost, and every time Edric tried to focus on her his vision seemed to go blurry. "I...we're..."

"Don't speak. You'll only fill the air with more lies."​

The Initiate half choked, his tongue suddenly tied as the odd Wraith slowly turned her attentions to Kristen.

 

[Kristen Pirian]

The omnipresent voice said to Fear not, and yet to Kristen the content of what was spoken did not at all match the character of its delivery. So frightening was it that Kristen, in either a moment of weakness or a moment of admirable faith depending on how one viewed it, dropped instantly to her knees and clasped her hands together and began to pray.

"Blessed Aionus, Holy Sentinel, Banisher of the Dark Ones, Guardian of the World, He who has bound by law Arethil and her mortals to the coil of time, lend to us your protection and see us through..."

The prospect of fighting twenty armed men, should it have come, seemed impossible enough, with her body weak and quivering from lack of sustenance, aching from a fatigue that a simple refreshing dip in cool waters could not wash away. Fighting against this Wraith?

A strong will, an determination cast in iron, these could only get her so far. Especially when her body was ailing so.

Thoughts of Edric's disapproval, which would have normally been foremost in mind, were nonexistent. And so Kristen continued in her prayer, speaking rapidly, even as the Wraith turned its attention to her.

Edric

 

[Edric]

When Kristen dropped to her knee and began to pray Edric couldn't help but feel utterly bewildered.

Gone was all fear, all thoughts of this strange wraith floating in the room. Instead he looked at his companion as though she had just grown the ears of a donkey. He had never in his entire life seen anything like what Kristen was doing now.

It was...it was so utterly strange.

The worship of gods had been taken from Vel Anir centuries ago. Whole cities had been purged to stop such things. It had been outlawed, illegal. Edric could remember his own mother hiding such notions, tucking herself away and praying to Anirius.

This? This was...

"Oh child. There is nothing to fear. Nor a need to pray. You are safe here."​

All at once Edric's attention was drawn back to the woman, her voice pounding through his skull like a hammer.

He took in a sharp breath.

"You know not what path your elders have set you upon, but that is no fault of your own. Soon you will see truths."​

She sounded almost remorseful.

"Honesty that will present more danger than I could ever offer."​

Edric glanced at the woman, then to Kristen, then to the woman. What the fuck is going on?

"Take time, rest here, for on your journey home you will find nothing but death."​

Then, suddenly, the wraith snapped out of existence.

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Mother, and father especially, had fretted so much when Kristen found Celestialism. They were always so adamant that Kristen never publicly speak on it, to always use Aionus's name in vain, in an effort to convince others she had used it sarcastically or flippantly, whenever she slipped. The irony was tremendous when, given the character of her magic, all of sudden such concerns were no longer an issue, so that she might be enrolled into the Academy.

If only mother and father were here. Kristen didn't credit the disappearance of the Wraith entirely to her prayer, no, she would never presume to be kin with Aionus's divine judgment. But she liked to think that her prayer meant something regardless.

Kristen stood, her movements slow and cautious, as if abandoning her position of supplication might spark the Wraith's wrath, despite what she'd said.

She looked to Edric, her concern not entirely assuaged by the disappearance of their host. "...Nothing but death? How...s-she can't know that. She couldn't possibly know that."

Kristen sounded as though she had trouble convincing herself, let alone Edric.

Edric

 

[Edric]

Edric was about to open his mouth when suddenly the crack of rock splitting echoed outward. In an instant he turned, ready to be crushed, but all he found was the door behind them once again falling open. The sunlight pouring.

”I…” He glanced at Kristen.

The Initiate had never once been the kind of person to study. To understand really the ethos of other cultures or…well much of anything at all. His lips thinned for a brief moment as he glanced around.

His head shook. ”I don’t know.”

Edric said honestly, realizing not for the first time that he had been saying that an awful lot lately. His lips thinned for a brief moment, and then he glanced towards the open doorway.

”But…” Slowly he looked back at Kristen. ”We’re alive still.”

His words seemed unsure. ”That counts for something.”

Though he wasn’t sure what.

 

[Kristen Pirian]

"So...that means they will let us go? The desert men?"

The struggle to find a silver-lining to it all. A harsh fight, given the nerve-wracking encounter they'd just endured--given everything they'd endured after the mission went awry.

"That's what she said. Take time, rest here. Sibyl decided our fate, like they said. They have to obey it, s-surely."

It required picking and choosing from the Wraith's words. Trusting in the invitation to rest and recuperate, whilst also disregarding the apparent prophecy of "nothing but death" haunting their path back home. Yet Kristen was more than happy to engage in such cognitive dissonance.

At least until she got some proper food in her stomach and an actual good night's rest.

Then, maybe, she could consider their homeward journey and the possible perils thereof.

Edric

 

[Edric]

"I guess so." Edric did not sound particularly happy about the fact. Not because he wasn't willing to accept charity or generosity, but because all of this was still so odd to him.

Were they fated to die?

Would they encounter more violence?

Of the latter he was more than certain. They were Dreadlords, even Kristen was one...sort of, violence was their way of life. Death, killing. Outright murder sometimes. Even the Republic hadn't changed that. There was a reason they were so valuable. "I guess we'll find out."

He said, straightening himself and going towards the open door. A part of him was still ready to fight, but when they stepped into the sun they did not find a collection of warriors arrayed against them, but instead only a third of the number resting on the rocks.

The man who had brought them there approached first.

"So she has decided you will live."​

Edric glanced at Kristen. "Seems so..."

He said slowly.

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Kristen followed Edric from the tower chamber, squinting slightly in the new brightness. Some of the men had left, and though her imagination tried desperately to convince her that the missing men were crouched around some corner, some unseen nook, waiting to pounce on them, no, it wasn't so.

The first man, their apparent leader, stated the obvious. Maybe...Holy Aionus...there had been a great number of people who had not been as fortunate as herself and Edric. Many who had never walked out of that tower after the ghostly woman called Sibyl had judged their fate.

She returned Edric's glance. Then looked to the first man.

"With your permission...may we forage for food? We have not eaten in days."

Not too far behind the leader, among the rocks of the tower island with others, the man with the blazing bronze eyes was seething.

Edric

 

[Edric]

It was clear that the decision to let them live was not entirely...popular, but Edric tried to ignore that fact.

The Sybil, whatever she was, had declared that they would live. For the old man at least that seemed to be enough. Some of the warriors still stared at them with murder in their eyes, but Edric could hardly blame them for that.

He might have felt the same on a different day.

"There is no need." The man told Kristen.

"We have plenty, and you will rest for the night." He glanced at the two Initiates. "Then tomorrow you will be on your way."

A brief pause echoed out, and then Edric slowly nodded. "Yes. We will."

The Old man tilted his own head, and then slowly motioned for the two Dreadlords to follow him. Edric glanced back at Kristen, and then shrugged. Shortly after the two of them found themselves on a separate side of the odd tower like island, sitting on a rock with the old nomad and clutching a bowl of what Edric was pretty sure was some sort of porridge.

 

[Kristen Pirian]

A small, trembling sigh of relief drifted quietly from Kristen's nose. Certainly there were those among the nomads who were vexed that she and Edric had been allowed to live--had escaped any kind of tangible punishment at all, by their reckoning. Would they have had their anger quelled if they heard what Sibyl had spoken to them? Of their future? Would they have been satisfied by the grim prophecy outlined for them, seeing that as fitting enough a sentence?

Maybe. Maybe not. All Kristen knew was that, hazarding a quick glance over her shoulder as she, Edric, and the older man started off, the man with the bronze eyes was still glaring after them.

Kristen sat upon the rock next to Edric, bowl of porridge in hand. Gods, how she would have turned up her nose at such a dish when more comfortable environs. Yet here, in conditions as dire as these, she looked upon the porridge and could have cried with joy.

She started slow, spooning little bits at a time, and then, as if her stomach ignited with a passion once the porridge reached her belly, she began to eat more voraciously.

She only allowed herself to stop when she was three quarters of the way through. She looked up from the bowl and to the old nomad. "I would beseech you for your wisdom, if you would be so kind as to impart it," she said. "In which direction would it be quickest for us to depart Amol-Kalit? Should we bear more to the south? Or more to the east?"

Edric

 

[Edric]

A silence seemed to fall after Kristen's question.

Edric couldn't blame her for asking. The same words had been floating through his mind almost every second. He wanted to leave this place. He wanted to get out of here. This place was an anathema to him, the opposite of everything he'd learned.

Yet the quiet made him tense, prepare. He was sure that the old man would be insulted. Angry.

He remembered every punishment that he'd gone through. The punishments the Proctors had pressed upon him. The lashes he had received. He was certain that something similar would come as an answer to the Nobles question.

"South will lead you to Cortos."​

The man answered finally.

"East will draw you towards the Savannah."​

Edric frowned, glancing towards the old man. He couldn't help the suspicion that sat within his chest, the anger and hatred. It had been bred into him from the very day he'd arrived at the Academy.

"I can draw you a map. That will get you home."​

The old man said, offering a smile to the noble.

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Kristen could almost feel Edric tightening up. But...for what? All she had asked was a simple question, one certainly in line with their story of being lost Cortosans. Perplexed she was, not having the same thoughts which crossed Edric's mind about what the silence entailed and how the old nomad would react.

He answered her, and he was cordial. Splendid! Mayhap he was not like some of his fellow nomads, seething back over there by the bridge. Mayhap with Sibyl's judgment cast upon them he could now relax whatever hostilities he had harbored prior.

"We would be most grateful!" Kristen said, placing a hand on Edric's knee. All for the show of them being comrades. And they were, technically, though not quite in the sense Edric had let on. Fellow sailors likely had more camaraderie among them than Initiates in the Academy--as dreary a state of being as it was to her.

"All we want is to get back home." A look to Edric. "Isn't that right?"

The last part wasn't necessary to say, yet it had flowed so naturally in her normal manner of speaking.

Edric

 

[Edric]

Edric looked down at the hand on his knee.

He had to resist the urge to grab it and then pluck it off of himself, all the while staring at her. Instead he remembered those lessons he had learned with Noel. Being undercover demanded selling the bit. It was the least he could do here.

Slowly his gaze drew up from the hand, and up towards the man. "Yes."

He said, his voice stiff.

"All we want to do is get home." It wasn't a lie. Edric really did want to get home. He wasn't entirely sure what he would do once they got here. This whole thing with the Proctors setting up Kristen was...troubling, but he did want to get back.

"Very well. There are wells on your way. You will have to go to them until you leave the desert."​

The old man said.

"Once you reach Cortosian lands your path will be more free...though I'm afraid I cannot tell you where to go from there."​

Edric smiled, or tried to smile. "We can find our way once we're out of the desert."

He assured the man. Trying to assuage his own impulses.

 

[Kristen Pirian]

The old man may not have noticed it, but Kristen did. Slight, the difference in Edric's voice, but it was there. First the tensing, now this tone? Why, it was as if he expected this old man to suddenly leap across the gap at him and try to strangle him. Was that it? Oh...Holy Aionus...maybe this was the product of a lifetime spent in the Academy, a suspicion of everyone, a drawing up of mental plans of how to kill everyone around you if need be. How dreadful!

But perhaps this was something Kristen would have to learn to emulate if she was to have any hope of graduating, and further into the future, any hope of performing her duties sufficiently.

The ghastly thought nearly made her shudder. But she suppressed it, not wanting to offend their host.

"You've been of great help to us already," Kristen said reassuringly. She held her bowl of nearly finished porridge with both hands, preparing to empty it (she felt as though she could have eaten Edric's and the old man's servings had they offered!). "In ignorance and desperation we came upon you, trespassing here in this sanctuary, and when the time comes we will depart touched by your kindness."

She touched her chest briefly, hand over her heart. Her visage a gentle glow of gratitude.

"I cannot thank you enough."

An unsettling moment. In that outwardly, she radiated warmth of spirit and wore a pleasant smile. But inwardly, a cold unbidden thought came to her, as if prompted by her earlier rumination.

A quick flash of a plan to kill the old man, if need be.

Edric

 

[Edric]

Edric had to stop himself from looking at Kristen like she was an alien.

What she was doing was smart, technically it was exactly what they should have been doing. Being thankful in a situation like this was...well intelligent. They were being fed, given water, and a place to rest. It was more than they deserved, she was right in that.

Yet a lifetime of the Academy had made something like that...hard. He couldn't have imagined what one of the Archons would have done in their place. Level this tower? Take what he needed and then just walk away when it was all done?

That seemed right. "Yes."

Edric added finally.

"Thank you." It was the last thing that was said in the conversation, and soon the old man left them to gather a few extra water skins and the map that he had been speaking of. Edric and Kristen were left behind.

Before long the sun began to set, and the old man returned with the supplies he had spoken of as well as a blanket.

"Here. I would suggest you set off early in the morning. Probably sooner would be better."​

He glanced over his shoulder a moment.

 

[Kristen Pirian]

In the gap of time when the old man had departed, leaving Edric and Kristen alone for a while, she finished her porridge. And. Well. Had to say something that was bothering her.

"Was it truly so hard to say 'thank you'?"

Yes, it came off a bit chiding, but more so it was a curious inquiry. The Academy suppressed or stamped out entirely a great many things which made a person human, and it appeared that gratitude was one of them. Despite missions which sent groups of Initiates off together in service of a common goal, wherein teamwork, one would presume, would be emphasized, still the Initiates tended to view their comrades as hindrances and liabilities, and concerned themselves with their own individual advancement most of all. And it wasn't just with her, though Kristen knew full well that she--with her vast inexperience--was the perfect locus of such annoyance for her peers on such missions.

Kristen tenderly touched her left arm. Hissed quietly as her fingers touched a particular agitated spot. The bruising beneath her sleeve would be bad, but at least today, despite the constant ache, her arm was usable. Though she wouldn't be sleeping on her left side, that was for sure.

The old man returned. With a single blanket. Kristen, despite wanting the blanket desperately, forced herself not to look at Edric in that moment--her eyes immediately would've become big, puppy-dog saucers of pleading.

It wasn't too hard, given what the man said and did next. He didn't seem to be making any reference to the sun nor heat of the coming day.

"O-Okay," she said. "Very well. That we shall do."

* * * * *​

As the sun was setting, a plan was being hatched.

The nomad with the blazing bronze eyes had gathered with others of like mind. Together, they came to a consensus. When the two outsiders departed from the Heart of Aktash they would give chase.

Chase, and kill them. The sentence for their trespass, their violation of the sacred waters, should be no less.

Edric