The smell of salt and wind filled my nostrils, and I gazed out unto the far horizon. My favorite place in all the world, the lookout’s nest of the Nature’s Sacrifice. Far below, I could see mother as she scoured the deck looking for me, before glancing up. There’s no way that she could see me, but her captain’s voice had no problem reaching me, demanding my return. Off to the north, a distance storm loomed, closing rapidly. Ten days out of Karendar, with another fifteen to go on my first trip to Dhar-as Fanajan. In the way that memories go, this was the trip I knew I had to be a captain, and nothing else.
I glanced north again, and the storm was nearly upon us, and memories fell aside. No storm struck us that trip, and in an instant the storm raged around the ship, wracking the sleek timbers, tearing at the glorious sails, and I screamed in pain as I slammed into the mast and plunged towards the heaving deck.
I heaved a broken breath, choking on the blood filling my lungs, bloody froth spewing from my mouth onto the sands so far from the sea, glancing up into the stands towards Aunt Valerus. Death was coming for me, and I wished to set my gaze on the seas of Karendar one final time.
Restful sleep had eluded me, and I awoke early the first day of the games. I am no fan of the games, watching or fighting. It seemed a necessary evil to fund our plans and the new house, while at the same time setting the stage for cleansing the land of the evil that had befallen my brother Grymor. I had not thought any were going to attend with me, but as I readied myself, Valerus, had already awakened. The distance, perhaps awkwardness, of before the mission had fallen away. While I never forgot she was my aunt, nor I her nephew, we were more than that now. Companions who had survived travails, a bond that intertwined with those of family, strengthening. The others quickly awoke at her urging, to the discovery of House Morai Delore finery that she had the foresight to have prepared.
Grumbling from both Grym and Hajeem about the need for disguise echoed in the background, and Effrims constant badgering about leaving Elkavark was largely ignored by everyone as we prepared until he departed to feed those insane lizards. Arbenya’s excited mutterings and Talid and Reherka’s sleepy “ssssss” signs, all of it drew me in as a sailor long from the port returning home.
But, uneasiness hovered over my shoulder. I couldn’t dismiss it, and while there were plenty of problems troubling our waters, as any navigator will teach, don’t forget the shoals in front of you because of your fear of the current. We had a plan, finally. Ready to set sail, but still, I knew the treachery of fog was approaching. I knew what it was too, even if I didn’t know the details. Ever since we walked past the shadowed creature at the arena yesterday, I knew we would face him during the monster melee. I also knew he meant our death, and fear for Valerus and, honestly, myself, bore down upon my spirits. All I knew was I would not let Valerus die, whatever the cost, and by then, the plans to lift Grymor’s grimness would have been initiated. With the immediate goals in site, I would worry about Death after the first shoals were passed. Which left me two days to plan.
As the magic crumpled behind me, my blood poured into the sands. Near death, my shaking hand scrambled to open my belt pouch as a I struggled to one knee, my right hand clenched around the darkwood staff. I could feel the darkness approaching, the light slipping from my blood-caked eyes. In the distance I could hear the screams of Valerus and Arbenya in the box above me. I clutched an acorn, and with my flagging strength I brought it to my face before crushing it into the fine mist, breathing as deeply as my ruined chest and throat would let me. Lights burst in my vision, and the fires in my lungs soothed briefly before I began coughing up the blood to purge my sins. I stood fully, leaning on my staff, after the momentary respite. I turned to face Death. An eternity had passed in the few seconds since I staggered through the portal. How foolish I had been to have been waiting for the shoals I could see in the distance.
The holiday aura of the games as we promenade through the winding streets of the city raised my spirits. Sprinkled throughout the crowds, surprisingly, were the symbols of our new house. More prominently, of course, Athenassiadi and Mavromikhalis fans flooded the streets, along with a massive showing for Bertio, surprisingly. Some foreign colors, and lesser houses. As we arrived within the arena, I was pleasantly surprised to see all of the remodeling, and as a result, the new box structures, aligning us with Alcinus and Ariadne’s colors. Time passed slowly as we discussed the plans and the games, waiting for the first match of the criminals to be announced. While the Savant of Glory bored the stadium to tears with her monotonous harangues about the glory of, well Glory, the morning because a relaxing break from the tension I had been feeling.
That all changed with the announcement that transgressors of the fates would also be fighting in the criminals match.
I stood, turning my back on my family’s box, ignoring the roar of the crowd. Lord Brimerian had fallen under the shadow attack, and while his brothers fought to defend him, I shouted my pain to Air and Water, Storm and Wind, knowing that this attack would be my last unless successful. As the magic began to gather in my hands, Reherka and Effrim sliced dark chunks off of the beast and it staggered, and I felt the earth shake all the way to this side of the arena.
As I let my magic start to dissipate, I realized, that yet again, I had focused on a specific threat far to narrowly and large lizards rose from the ground in a triad around me. I re-channeled all of the power I had summoned from the Storms into a massive burst of thunder echoing from me outwards, slamming into the three closest lizard dragons. Even as the wave of sound burst against their scaly hides, I knew it was not enough.
The consternation brought by the announcement of initiates of Healing being thrown to the games echoed through our box. No one seemed in favor of it, and I shivered as if an ill wind blew across my brow. I looked at Morgos, and knew that plans had begun to unravel. As the Gamesmaster initated the bout, it was easy to discern who the criminals were, and who were not. Two obvious former acolytes fell to their knees, clutching at each other while one, similar in appearance, begged for forgivness from the Savant of Healing, who turned her back. The girl scrambled towards one of the weapon caches, while her former sisters were slaughtered where they knelt. Grym, flew down the stairs. Rage at the destruction of innocence flowed through me as I stood. As Grym prepared to leap over the railing above the arena, I slammed my staff down, summoning the peals of the thunder, before announcing, “The Champion of House Morai stands for the innocent Transgressor.”
I fought longer, exhausted, spell after spell slashing into the lizards, fortunate enough to dodge their weakened or distracted blows. Valerus dropped over the rail, blasting magic into the one closest her. I could sense the arena erupting into chaos, but the crowds just roared.
There had been no doubt in my mind that Grym, even in his persona as Morgos, would defeat the murdering scum in honest battle. We brought the former acolyte into our box, enraging some I am sure, but no more than me when I learned that she had been named a transgressor for failing her initiate’s test. I tried to calm the shaken novitiate, but distractions of the day were to abound.
As the sands were cleansed of the bodies and the crowd settled down to await the next match, Lady Delovorus joined us in the box. I am not sure what shocked me more, the fact that a temple of Healing, even one with an angry savant, had planned to murder one of its own, or the idea that Beretressia wished to align herself more closely with us, through marriage no less. I groaned as I realized that her intent, while to strengthen her house, appeared specific to Effrim, because apparently his ill-considered offer of marriage to Artemesia had made the rounds. Combined with the rumors of his relationship to the Sultan of Dhar-as Shajai, and his apparent incompetence in political discussion, meant extreme danger for our house. Shallow shoals were indeed ahead.
The distractions of political marriage for Effrim proved unknowingly relaxing, and thus, I did not sense the trap before it sprang. I don’t know why the Vizier is antagonistic to us, or Karendar. When his shadow creature appeared, I feared for the opponents who would be brought forth. When minions of the Vizier and Healing led the Cadre Elustrae forth in chains, Valerus’s outburst, followed by mine, closed the trap around us. I could not let the Greythorns die, and I knew that the Shadow meant death.
Last Dreams 