Completed The Skvader

[Brenna]

North of Faarin

There was a certain beauty to the Tundra, Brenna thought. The brilliant white that enveloped all in its path made the world seem bright and peaceful. It did not care who or what you were and treated all its visitors with the same icy breath. If you were not prepared for such a place it would welcome you with open arms and lull you into death, but if you did know how to navigate and live here it provided more than amply for those who chose this place as their home. What she loved the most was that it was silent. Perhaps an odd thing to love about a place for a girl who could not hear anyway, but knowing that it was the same absence of sound for everyone who wandered it filled her with a sense of... balance. Like she had been put on equal footing. It was a strange thought. As her Uncle had pointed out, surely it meant that when there was a noise it would be even more useful to hear it in such a place but Bre disagreed. If anything knew what it was doing out here - the real threats - would never make a noise. It was why the Hunters never spoke when they moved across its face in search of food. Sound was danger here and Brenna was an artist when it came to living with silence.

Today she needn't even worry about communicating in the silent language of Signs. Bre was on her own. It meant a great deal that her uncle trusted her enough to be out on her own, but it wouldn't have stopped her coming even if she had lacked it. The wilderness called to her. She had spent a year of her life alone under the aurora and she had loved every moment of her. These hunts were as close as she could get to that without packing up and leaving altogether; an action that would break her mothers heart. Brenna had caused her mother enough agony to last a lifetime when she had nearly died before the age of 10 and she continued to cause her pain every time she picked up her gear and went to train. She could see it in her eyes even if she never voice her thoughts.

Bre could forget all of that out here though. Forget the worry for her brother, forget the disappoint of her mother, forget the loss of her father. Here it was just Brenna and the endless silence of the snow.

She had caught the scent of one of a deer not long into her journey but had ignored it. The herds of the Pale King were not to be touched without the proper authority - they were protected and sacred. She continued on after another scent, an Skvader. The snowy white creatures were often hard to catch due to their ability to blend into snow, but also their speed. But if you did manage to catch one they made a delicious treat. More importantly, they were not protected.

It was an enjoyable hunt; Brenna liked a challenge. The Nordenfiir were known for their strong sense of smell but when she had lost her hearing the rest had compensated even more. She found it no hardship to track the animal, making sure to stay downwind so it would not catch her own scent of the predator that was a part of her very soul. It helped that she was able to move much like her mother had, over the top of the snow on light feet rather than through it like most of her friends. Eventually it stopped and Brenna was able to take her shot. Staying out of sight she hunkered down in the snow and bits of fauna that still managed to sprout despite the frigid winter. Taking a breath she knocked her bow and then drew it back to her cheek. Her keen eyes could make it out against the snow despite its coat and as she released her breath, she released the arrow.

 

[Kol]

Blood dripped from the edge of his rune knife, the deer carcass hanging from a branch as Kol slowly went about dissecting the creature.

The crimson strength of animals was often weaker than that of sentient beings, but this far into the Tundra's wastes if was difficult to find the latter. Kol had been wandering for near a month now, the Dark Gods leading him further and further south.

He did not know where he was, and the night before had been too cloudy to tell by the stars.

That was why he had killed the beast, why it's heart and liver now sat in a spackled drawing of blood set into the snowy ground. The rune knife shifted slightly, putting in place the final marker of the ritual before he stopped.

His head suddenly turned.

The silence of the Tundra was deafening in it's own way. So quiet and peaceful that even the smallest sound could echo to the ears of someone like him. His gaze shifted to the west, the echoing twang of a bowstring calling out in the distance.

Briefly the Sorcerer glanced down at the Ritual marker on the floor, and then he began to walk west.

 

[Brenna]

Brenna smiled in satisfaction as the creature dropped to the ground with the arrow through its eye. She hadn't been aiming for it intentionally but its head had turned to her at the last second as if sensing its death flying towards it. At least it meant it had had a clean death. On feet so soft she had often been asked if there was elf in her mothers bloodline, the young cadet went to collect her kill. With gentle hands she pried the arrow from its eye and wiped the brains away from the shaft of the arrow in the snow. Red was a stark contrast to the blinding white snow and as she stood with the large creature in her arms she kicked it over, burying the trace. There was no need for predators to come looking for an easy meal.

Satisfied the area was left as she had found it, minus the Skvader, she began walking a little further east to where there was less snow and more shelter from the elements. It was a small overhang of rock but the snow was thinner and the face of it curved slightly so that the wind was not so cutting. She gently laid her kill down and set about clearing a space and then a fire.

Eating out here and watching the sun set over the plains was a favourite past time. Once she was content the fire was going well enough she sat cross legged beside it, her back to the rocks so that the only entrance was in her eye line, and set about skinning her kill.

 

[Kol]

Kol trudged through the snow with quick and practiced steps.

He managed to move with surprising agility. Where others might have fallen deeper into the drifts, Kol seemed to veritably drift over them.

It wasn't long before he found tracks within the snow itself, small marks of footfalls that had been created not too long ago. His eyes narrowed for a brief moment, lips thinning before looking up towards a set of rocks in the distance.

To his left a small smile appeared, a toothy grin that just barely contrasted with the white of the snow.

Kol briefly glanced at it, and then continued onward after the tracks.

There was few life out here, and less still that walked on two fight. The Rune Knife in his hand disappeared into flecks of blackness and his footfalls became louder. He did not want to put fear into his kins heart.

Not yet.

 

[Brenna]

Even though she couldn't hear it, Brenna liked to hum whilst she worked. Her mother had once asked her why but she hadn't been able to explain it. That even though she couldn't appreciate the sound, she felt the vibration of it in her throat and it provided the same kind of comfort humming had when she was little. It was a childish tune, but it was one of the only ones she could remember from before the Silence. It reminded her of the good times with her father home, when he danced with her mother by the fire whilst her and her brother would play. Happy memories.

Bre was efficient as she worked. Practised movements befitting a daughter of Faarin. Once the skin was gone and the organs too she added herbs and salt and then skewered it, spitting it over the fire. Content with her work she then buried the organs and other bits saying a silent prayer to The Pale King as she did so. The skin, she kept. Once she was finished with that she crouched by the snow and began to wash her hands with it.

She of course didn't hear the approaching footsteps.

 

[Kol]

A shadow cast over the alcove as Kol approached.

The setting sun on the horizon coupled by his relative size slowly shifted his shadow over the outcropping, casting his shade over the single entrance into it. He could see the footsteps lead forward, their relative small size more than obvious to him.

"Hello?" He called out in a bare rasp, his fingers hanging open as a gust of wind crashed over the Tundra.

As he called out Kol stepped into view of Brenna, his haggard furs and tattered cloak hiding most of his face.

 

[Brenna]

Bre glanced up at the shadow. This far out she had the same thoughts as Kol had earlier; only another of her people would chance the winter wastelands. It was the smell that marked him as... different though. Not one of her people but still, anyone who crossed the wastelands like it was nothing was kin. Standing she wiped the snow from her hands down her woollen and fur lined tunic and breeches. The ensemble was a beautiful mix of blue and white that had once been her mothers. The large hood built into the tunic was a very welcome addition when she was out into the early hours of morning. She had left her hair loose for once so it might help insulate her neck.

As the man came into view it confirmed what her nose had already determined; definitely not a Nordenfiir.

Bre hesitated. The people of Faarin would speak Sign, which was the closest settlement to them, but she was not sure if this man would. Motioning to her ears and then shaking her head to indicate she then began the following in basic Sign that most hunters would know.

Welcome Stranger. You are welcome to fire and food.

 

[Kol]

Kol watched the girl for a few moment, curiosity piqued as she did not speak in greeting but instead motioned to her ears and then flickered her fingers in a series of signs.

The Sorcerer slowly cocked his head, eyes peering down at the girl as he tried to make sense of the symbols. The Nordwiir did not have any understanding of sign language, nor would a thing ever come into being in the Lost Isles.

A deaf child would most likely not last, not unless they were blessed by the Dark Gods in some other way.

Those too weak to survive on their own were often thrown to the wilds. Kol frowned for a brief moment, then took a step forward. "You cannot speak?"

He had never met a mute before, not even on his travels south.

 

[Brenna]

An annoyed sigh and a shake of the head. She hadn't brought much with her, not thinking she needed things out this far out, but it had become a habit to carry a notebook on her person. Tugging it from her breast pocket she began to write instead, sitting down by the fire and motioning for him to join her by patting the snow beside her. She tucked her hair absentmindedly behind one ear as she wrote, the rest blocking out the intensity of the heat from the fire to the other side of her face.

After a while she turned the note towards him, hoping he could at least read. She wrote in the Common Tongue just to be sure.

Deaf. Accident in training to the back of the head. But I can read lips. I was asking if you wished to share my meal.

 

[Kol]

Kol moved besides the girl, shifting slightly as he sat himself down on the ground besides her.

The Cold had never much bothered him, not even as a child. His mother had always claimed that it was his first blessing from the Dark Gods, an ability to ignore the elements. Kol was not entirely sure of that, but he had never questioned it.

When she began to write in the notebook a frown touched his lips. The Common Tongue had barely made it to the Lost Isles, but Kol had made an effort to learn the language during their raids. He did not quite understand why she simply did not use her own language.

Was she not Nordenfiir?

He glanced at her briefly. "That is kind."

The Sorcerer stated plainly, though did not accept. For a moment he observed her, and then slowly he pulled up his sleeve. There she would see hundreds upon hundreds of scars carved into his flesh, some in the shape of symbols, others in strange contours.

Kol took his thumb, biting it's end until blood pooled just beneath his nail. Then slowly he wiped the blood over one of the symbols on his upper forearm.

A strange pulse erupted from The Sorcerer, rushing over the small alcove and retreating towards him. There was no healing, not from him, but something else. A simple transference of thought, a bridge overcoming a gap made by circumstance.

"Speak for a while, sister." He told the girl as the spell emanated around him.

 

[Brenna]

Brenna offered him a genuine smile when he said it was a kind gesture, though she also looked a little confused. Why wouldn't she share her meal with another traveller? It seemed a natural thing for her but, she thought on reflection, it was not one that was shared especially in Faarin. She shrugged a little and turned the plump creature on the fire which was coming along nicely. As such Brenna wasn't truly paying much attention to what he was doing in the next few moments. She of course, kept an eye on him out of her peripheral vision but she just thought him to be adjusting his clothing to accommodate the warmth of the fire.

It was the strange sensation that ran through her that had her attention going back to him. It was like goosebumps running over every inch of her skin as if she had been stroked with the sharp edge of a nail. Not pleasant but not horrific. But it was when she heard him she shot to her feet and took two steps back in pure bewilderment.

She hadn't heard anything since she was eight.

It felt loud though she knew it wasn't. It was just the return of some kind of noise after years of silence. For a brief moment she thought her hearing had been returned in truth but she couldn't hear the fire, couldn't hear the crunch of her feet in the snow. Only... his voice and her language. Oh how good it felt to hear that tongue again.

Carefully she stepped forward again and then slowly sat down cross legged and facing him. There were a million questions she wanted to ask but first...

"Thank you... I am sorry for speaking in the Common Tongue, you do not smell like a Nordenfiir."

 

[Kol]

"I am not." He confirmed.

Kol had rarely spoken with his southern cousins. Though the two species had not warred for centuries, there had once been a great split. Nobody in living memory could remember what had really happened, though the whispers of the Dark Gods had told him some things.

It was hard to discern the truth of course, the Dark Gods always lied, but there were always kernals of reality in whatever they said.

That was their way.

"I am from the Lost Isles." He explained, quite pleased that the spell had seemingly worked so well. He had crafted it originally to speak with beasts, though perhaps it worked because of her other nature. "The North."

It was possible that she'd never even heard of his people. The Nordwiir were not often spoken of here.

 

[Brenna]

Brenna found her eyes drifting to his lips subconsciously as if to read them and she had to keep bringing her gaze back to his with physical effort. It was a hard habit to break. To try and break the habit she instead examined the rest of him with her crisp blue eyes, taking in the clothing and the odd scars now on his hands. Her eyes lingered on the blood that she could still smell.

"My father told me a story of your people once before," quietly she reached into her pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. Working with the cubs meant she had gotten used to carrying such things around with her wherever she went. You never knew when you might need to wipe a teary face or dab at a bleeding knee. Absentmindedly she took his hand and wrapped the fabric around the budding blood of his thumb. "It was not a particularly nice story." She glanced up at him with a warm smile. "My name is Brenna."

 

[Kol]

Kol did not move away from her when she began to wrap his hand. Instead he simply watched her with a keen interest. Kindness was not exactly common place among his Kin. The only love one received was from there mother, and sometimes not even there.

"We are not a nice people." He would not lie about that fact, there was no reason to.

The South was an interesting place, almost as interesting as the lands the Dark Gods were leading him to. He did not often have an opportunity to learn through conversation, most of the time it was through books.

Ones that he'd stolen during raids. "I am Kol, Twice Bloodied."

He decided in that moment to use his still free hand to remove his hood, revealing the horribly scared and broken flesh of his face.

 

[Brenna]

"Some people consider my people not nice people too, but it does not necessarily make it so," Brenna's words were softly spoken even in her mind as she checked the bleeding had stopped before removing the material from his hand. She turned his hand this way and that until she was content the blood had clotted then let it go. It didn't seem a particularly bad cut especially not when considering the other scars on his arms. Or his face.

It was difficult to hide the shock when he revealed his true face. But she didn't recoil though it was hard not to do so. But then, who would she be to do such a thing? People treated her differently for her disability and she had a feeling it was nothing compared to how he would be treated. What she couldn't help was the curiosity crept across her eyes as she wondered what on earth he had done to get them.

"Why are you visiting the South, Kol?"

 

[Kol]

The reaction to his face was not what he would have expected. Others as young as her were often repelled by his appearance, and Southerners especially.

Granted it had been long since he'd met any of her people, but in Kol's mind they had all been clumped together as unlike him. Perhaps he had been wrong about that assumption. A frown flickered over his features.

"I traveling." He explained. "Learning."

There was no need to be secretive. "The Gods have shown me a path, and I must walk it to better understand."

 

[Brenna]

Brenna nodded solemnly. It was similar in the South, though perhaps a path less dark judging by his features. Yet many of the Bears here would say echos of his words, about feeling a purpose given to them by a higher being. It was what had compelled many of her fellow Cadets to enrol into the armies of the Pale King. A sense that something other was pushing them down that path. Bre didn't know if hers would lay here for much longer but she knew it was a step along the way.

"The path walked is often more fun than the destination itself," the girl turned then to the fire to check on the meat again and picked up the skin she had been carrying with her which she had filled with a honey meade. Taking a sip she then offered it to him. "Are you hoping to learn anything in particular?" she pulled her knees up and crossed her arms over the top to rest her chin on them. In honestly she was just enjoying hearing his voice. Even if he wound up being on the quest for the most boring artefact in the world she would listen for hours just to keep hearing something for a while longer.

 

[Kol]

"I do not know." Kol said simply.

He knew what he wanted, he knew what the Lost Isles needed, but he was unsure if it would be what the Dark Gods would provide. There was no telling what lay at the end of this path, no telling what he would find. That was part of why he walked it.

"My people do not live as well as yours." There was no bitterness to the way he said it. He did not resent the Nordenfiir for the lives they lived. "I wish only to bring life to the Lost Isles."

He shrugged. "Whether the Gods will grant me that blessing I do not know."

Kol knew he would have to find the price first.

 

[Brenna]

Brenna watched his expressions carefully as he spoke and listened intently. It seemed a big challenge for one man to do alone. Even if he seemed to have the magics in order to look after himself well enough. Her eyes flicked again to the scars on his arms, on his face.

"I wish you luck, brother," when she spoke the words they were earnest ones. She felt guilty in a way she couldn't teach him anything - clearly something had brought him to her fire and the company of another. Her eyes drifted back to the food. "I wish I could teach you something as you came to my fire but I only know Sign language really that might be of any interest to you. Clearly you do not need a lesson in the blade," her eyes cut again to the scars.

 

[Kol]

"This was not done with a blade." Kol said the words in gentle rebuke to her statement, though it was clear he did not mind her assumption.

Education and truth was simple important.

"I would be honored to learn these signs." Kol had no idea what he would ever use it for, but he was sure there could be some application. "It is something new."

Not all learning had to be for war.

That was something many of his people failed to understand. Battle, killing, slaughter, that was all at the heart of their soul. Yet the Dark Gods wanted more than just that...at least some of them.

 

[Brenna]

Brenna smiled though it was half hidden by her arms. Still, it showed in her eyes. With a weariness she said.

"A girl could hope it was merely blades," the dark arts made her a little uneasy. Magic wasn't common at all really amongst her people - Rune magic was perhaps the closest it got in Faarin. Most preferred to stick to their svalens - what other magic did they need? But she didn't want to be closed minded. Part of her wanted to know but she did fear the answers.

True joy sparked on her face when he said he would want to learn Signs.

"Truly?" as she spoke she signed the same word then smiled again. "It depends what kind of learner you are but I could simply sign as we talk, or, I can give you a similar lesson to the cubs. A B C's, nursery rhymes..." her tone sounded serious but her face was not, a gentle joke.

 

[Kol]

He smiled. "The former will do just fine."

Kol had always been a fast learner, something that the Dark Gods had blessed him with. Languages came especially easy, perhaps because of the whispers that he heard. For a second he frowned, noting that the Dark Gods had not said anything to him since the start of this spell.

Odd.

"Magic is not common among your people." It wasn't really a question, more of a prompt. "Save for your Svalen of course."

Something he had always found interesting.

 

[Brenna]

Brenna shook her head to his question whilst Signing the word for No.

"You want to know why?" a slight tilt of her head and then she brushed some hair behind her right ear absentmindedly and shrugged as if were no real big secret. "They just do not have the tutors nor enough interest. It seems to be growing though as people want to expand and improve. The wars over the last few years have taught the younger generations at least that change is important. At least that's how it seems to be."

A pause and then.

"You look..." she hesitated with her hands, trying to think how to also Sign the word. "Concerned. Or worried about something."

 

[Kol]

Kol had never felt the pressing need to convert anyone to the worship of the Dark Gods. He had always figured that they were more than capable of convincing most on their own. The question was a vexing one because of that.

"Not concerned." He answered, watching her hands carefully as she spoke to him. "I am not often blessed with only the sounds of one voice. It is a curious thing."

Most of his existence was the direct opposite of hers.

There were always whispers, always something that was being said. Sometimes it was a struggle to even hear the world around him. "Do you want to know where my magic comes from?"

He asked.

 

[Brenna]

"I hope not a bad thing though, you can stop - if it causes you pain." Brenna wouldn't want his gift to her to hear for a while be the cause of discomfort. Slight worry etched itself into her features as she thought on the matter.

Bre's eyes instinctively dipped to the scars when he spoke of his magic. She was curious, though she wasn't sure she was going to enjoy hearing the answer too much. After a brief hesitation she took his hand again and traced the scars.

"My father said you all used blood magic and made sacrifices to false gods" she glanced up at him as her fingers lingered over a fresher looking one. A feather light touch. "It looks painful. I would like to know the truth."