– Era of the Wastes, Cycle 216, Season of the Setting Sun, Day 56 –
Silence fell on the forest.
“If you don’t stop, then I will have to make you stop, Whaka Emaldine,” barked Sigille, who was now standing between Emaldine and Matteo. Sigille’s armor was glowing with inscriptions and she was grabbing the spear that had aimed for Matteo’s head.
Emaldine tried to wrestle the spear back with all her might. When she failed, she let go of the spear and jumped back. She glowered at Sigille.
“You would fight your own child to protect that?” Emaldine pointed at Matteo. She looked about ready to pounce again.
“I would fight to protect both of my children,” retorted Sigille firmly. She threw the spear away to her side. “Protect one child from the other and protect the other child from herself.”
Sigille took a deep breath. “You will always be my daughter, Whaka Emaldine. Whatever you believe you know, Whaka Matteo—”
“Accepted son?!” Emaldine stared at Sigille with incredulous eyes. “HE KILLED PA!”
“Look at him,” exclaimed Sigille and moved her chin towards Matteo.
Matteo was still standing as before. His left hand was on the heartseeker dagger. His right hand was shaking in a clenched fist. His gaze was lowered to the ground.
“The moment he realized who you were, he stopped fighting back.” Sigille turned to Matteo and stabbed her finger at his chest. “And we will have a long talk about that, Whaka Matteo. I don’t care who attacks you. I expect you to defend yourself.”
“If you still don’t care enough about your own life, then at least respect my wish.” Sigille shook her head with clenched teeth. “I do not want to be forced to bury my own child.”
Sigille turned back to Emaldine. “Look at him. You have no idea how he— After your father, after my life’s chosen had been killed, I charged into what was left of the tower. In all my life, I had never felt that livid. When I fought my way through the elementals, I was ready to crush the monster, to exact vengeance for my husband.”
Sigille shook her head with glistening eyes. “I was looking for a monstrous demon, but all I found was a betrayed child whimpering in horror at what his memories showed him.” She stared at Emaldine with pleading eyes. “The thing that massacred the people in the Union, the thing that killed your pa, that wasn’t him. That was something done to him.”
Emaldine scoffed but averted her eyes.
“If you are looking for vengeance, then you are looking in the wrong place,” stressed Sigille. “The person you should be looking for is a man that had worked as an instructor in the elemental tower: Anand. That is the name of the murderer.”
Sigille sighed and grit her teeth. “Unfortunately, that man is extremely good at hiding and running away.”
Emaldine raised her head and glared at Sigille again. She opened her mouth, but she said nothing, even though her eyes clearly showed her unwillingness to let it go.
“Please,” said Sigille with a trembling voice. “I don’t want my child to be killed. I also don’t want my child to have innocent blood on her hands.”
Emaldine grimaced before looking at Sigille with defiance. “Didn’t you always say that most scavengers are bandits in disguise? I’ve been scavenging the Wastes for more than a decade. I thought you already imagined my hands to be bloody.”
Sigille shot her daughter a look as if she was a fool before her expression turned solemn. “If I had believed that, then I would have spat into a bucket and hunted you down myself.”
Emaldine scowled at the all-to-familiar look from her mother. Her scowl intensified with the reference to the svipa tradition for cutting off ties with whaka. Even more so at the implied superiority that her mother assumed when talking about hunting her down.
“I always believed that your heart is in the right place,” said Sigille warmly.
The soft tone in Sigille’s voice took Emaldine aback. They had not spoken for more than a decade and Emaldine mostly remembered their later quarrels. She had all but forgotten that her mother could utter such affectionate sounds.
“It is only your sense that I sometimes question,” continued Sigille.
Emaldine frowned. That was more like it.
“I told you that even if you do not jump into the river yourself, if you walk by the river long enough, then your feet will get wet eventually,” said Sigille. There was a trace of inquisitiveness on her face.
“...” Emaldine averted her eyes and grit her teeth.
“What are you doing here, Whaka Emaldine?” asked Sigille impatiently. “It’s been more than a decade. Why now? After all this time?”
“I only found out about pa’s death after more than a year!” exclaimed Emaldine with an accusatory tone. “And through a wasted message left at a settlement, I barely visit.”
Sigille refrained from frowning and answered calmly: “It was not my choice, child, that you disappeared without leaving a way to contact you. That scavenger brood of yours travelled all across the Wasteborder, which is not a place to get accurate information on a single dwarf that does not want to be found.”
Sigille sighed and tried hard to keep the accusing tone out of her voice. “You have made it clear that you did not wish to talk to me and you severed all links by which I could have easily made out your location.”
Sigille shook her head with a hapless expression. “The world does not stop when you need it. I was pressed for time. I used what little I could make to fulfill the last wishes of your father and even then, there was already damage done while I was gone.”
Emily approached silently and took the shaking fist of Matteo into her hands.
Sigille glanced at Emily and the others. Wallace, Terry, and Cadence were standing out in the open. Sigille understood that the rest of the scavengers were probably dispersed in a wider area, aspected arrows nocked and aimed – aimed at her daughter.
Sigille sighed wearily. She looked at Emily. “Lead him away, dear. He will need some time to calm down.”
Emily nodded and left with Matteo towards Wallace’s direction.
Emaldine did not even glance at them as they left.
Sigille inhaled deeply and moved her eyes back towards her daughter. “Why now? Even a message delayed for a year does not explain all this time.”
“...” Emaldine stared at the forest floor and clenched her fist.
“What happened, Whaka Emaldine?” asked Sigille with the tone of a concerned mother.
When only silence followed, Sigille sighed again. “I do not doubt that you would stubbornly make your way all across the empire and through a wasted war-zone just so you could hear hearsay from strangers when you could have heard the real story by talking to me.” She could not hide all her bitterness from her tone.
Sigille clicked her tongue. “But I do not believe those so-called friends of yours would join you on the trip or wait around while you are gone. What happened?”
“...” Emaldine bit her lip.
“Are you alright?” asked Sigille. Her lips were trembling slightly.
“Fine! You were right, okay?” spat Emaldine with tears in her eyes. “We had a long streak of unsuccessful scavenging trips. Suddenly, there was this new pair with good leads. Very successful at finding scavenging sites.”
Emaldine grimaced. “Too successful…” She grit her teeth. “Sites were too fresh. Blood was barely dry but without traces of bodies.”
Sigille watched her daughter calmly, without interrupting.
“It stank to the heavens.” Emaldine glared at the ground. “I told the others and…” She bit her lips. “They did not seem to care.” She took a deep breath. “That’s when I left.” She swallowed the frustration in her throat and stared challengingly at Sigille. “You were right. Are you happy now?!”
Sigille watched her daughter with sad eyes. “Yes.”
Emaldine scoffed and glared at the ground.
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“But not because I was right,” continued Sigille. “I would have gladly been mistaken. I am happy to finally see my beloved daughter again.” She smiled bitterly and with glistening eyes. “And to see you in one piece and with your heart in the right place.” She shook her head helplessly.
Emaldine wiped her eyes. The discrepancy between her expectations and reality had her distraught and dumbstruck.
“I… just want to know if I can help you in any way,” said Sigille.
“I don’t need anything,” said Emaldine weakly. She took a few breaths to regain her composure. “Where can I find this Anand?”
“That…” Sigille’s expression hardened. “…will take some time to explain. Let’s go to camp.”
Emaldine only grunted in response.
“Well, that is swell,” interjected Wallace angrily. “But I remember you saying how cute and adorable Little Emaldine was supposed to be. She must have outgrown that while you weren’t looking.”
Emaldine stared at the elven man with his barely existent mana signature. “Hello there, scrawny elf. Are you suicidal?”
“No, I’m Wallace,” retorted Wallace. “And I prefer daring, which reminds me…” The joking smile vanished from his face. “It was quite daring of you to attack Matteo in these parts.”
Emaldine scoffed, but then she noticed over twenty mana signatures in her mana sight. Shortly afterwards, she noticed the aspected arrows pointed at her.
“I’m glad that you could have your little stubbornness-impeded heart-to-heart…” Wallace was glaring at Emaldine. “But I want you to understand that the only reason you are still living life with the expected number of bodily orifices is that we recognized the name from the old hag’s shout.”
Wallace’s eyes became cold. “I don’t care about who, why, or what. Threaten the kid again and you’ll get some new holes you didn’t plan for.”
“Bring it, scrawny elf,” taunted Emaldine with defiant eyes.
“I can see the family resemblance,” remarked Wallace drily.
“Did you seriously just threaten my daughter right in front of me?” asked Sigille with incredulity.
“Someone had to,” retorted Wallace exasperatingly. “You were coddling the little monster!”
“Excuse me?” spat Emaldine.
“No, I won’t! See?” Wallace pointed at Emaldine. “Now, she is interrupting the adults. Where does it end? You have to draw clear lines. Establish boundaries.”
Terry could see a vein pulsing on Emaldine’s forehead.
“I don’t remember asking you for parenting advice,” said Sigille with a tired expression.
“Why not?” Wallace grinned from ear to ear. “Have you seen my little angel? She’s delightful.”
“That she is, and I still can’t believe that she is related to you in any way,” retorted Sigille. “I suggest you do not antagonize my daughter until you outgrow the defensive ability of a twig, scrawny elf.”
“Oooh, did I get a new nickname?” Wallace exclaimed gleefully. “Or are you just trying to score some points with your daughter, old pal?” He clicked his tongue and looked disappointed. “I know that parents are biased when it comes to their children, but frankly, I find the nickname a bit lacking in originality.”
“Meh, if it fits, it fits,” said Sigille flatly.
“Just make sure that the little missy understands to keep her boom boom toys away from Matteo,” said Wallace. “I don’t want her to run to mommy when it comes down to it.”
“Because you don’t want to face her ‘mommy’?” asked Sigille.
“I see we understand each other,” said Wallace with a sheepish grin. “In my defense though, have you seen her mommy? That’s one grouchy shrew, I tell ya. Could scare the bollocks off a terror grizzly.”
Sigille groaned.
“How has no one squashed your little pinhead yet?” exclaimed Emaldine with exasperation.
Wallace turned to her with an offended expression before tilting his head from side to side. “More original, I guess. I never had someone insult the size of my head before. I’m almost tempted to get self-conscious in appreciation.”
***
“What do you mean ‘no’?!” demanded Emaldine. She was glaring at Sigille. “I want to know where Anand can be expected to be.”
“I understood you the first time,” said Sigille calmly. “But first of all, we do not have any clear trails to follow and, more importantly, you are not equipped to go after Anand.”
Emaldine scoffed.
“I’m serious, Whaka Emaldine,” insisted Sigille. “From everything we have learned about Anand since that incident, he would pose a serious challenge, even for me.”
Sigille’s expression darkened. “A talented, dedicated, and experienced mage proper. Gifted in death and several core elemental aspects. At least a grand master in necromancy. Worst of all, a dimensional mage.”
Frustration flashed over Sigille’s face. “To make it even worse, Anand seems to have allies, spies, and projects everywhere. Not to mention, access to the summoning from necromancy and his dominated elementals.”
Sigille looked at her daughter. “For you to go alone after Anand is suicidal. That is assuming that Anand would even stay around to face you. He is a dimensional mage more capable than the Supreme’s disciple. I don’t know how Anand compares to Silver-Eyes Jee or the Mage Supreme herself, but it is a fact that Anand can create long-distance dimensional gates.
“If you want to go after Anand alone, then you would seek your own death,” stressed Sigille. “And unless you can prevent his space magic, you would get absolutely nothing for your troubles.”
“Didn’t you say before that that person is spending every Setting Moon hunting for traces of Anand?” Emaldine scowled.
“Yes, Matteo does that,” grumbled Sigille. “And while I’m also not completely happy about that, Matteo is different from you.”
Emaldine glared at her mother in defiance.
“That came out…” Sigille sighed tiredly and moved her hands over her own hair. “Matteo does not go alone, or at least not usually. There are other death hunters that join him.”
Sigille sighed again and shook her head. “And even though his guilt-ridden mind may never realize it properly, Matteo has people that would walk through the Wastes and back for him. Friends that can stand at his level. Friends that watch over him and are ready to stand with him.”
Emaldine stared at the ground and clenched her teeth.
“And while you may not like to hear it, Matteo is stronger than you,” finished Sigille.
Emaldine raised her eyes with all of her previous defiance returned. “Oh really? He did not show that earlier.”
“That’s because he was still gauging you,” retorted Sigille. “Trying to decide how much force was warranted.”
Emaldine rolled her eyes.
“You haven’t seen him push his elemental abilities to their limits and you haven’t seen him draw Soul Fury,” said Sigille. “His elemental powers react to his emotions. If Matteo ever stands face to face with Anand, well…” Sigille’s gaze became distant. “I do not worry about Matteo’s strength on that day. I worry about his state of mind.”
“So what?” scoffed Emaldine. “You have no idea how strong I am.”
Sigille examined her daughter calmly. “You are my daughter, Whaka Emaldine.” She smiled sadly. “You have inherited many of my strengths, but also many of my weaknesses. I know the limitations that my blood has cursed you with better than anyone.”
Emaldine was taken aback by the guilt and self-reproach in her mother’s voice.
“I remember my abilities from when I was your age,” said Sigille. “I remember how much effort it took to get there. Persistent training every day. Choosing work that pushes you further.”
Emaldine averted her eyes.
“Most importantly, I am very aware of the items required to make up for my— our limitations,” said Sigille. “They do not come cheap.”
Sigille let her voice hang in the air for a moment. “Unless you are keeping your main equipment hidden in a storage item, I can confidently say that you are not a match for Matteo, much less for Anand. The Guild pays better than scavenging in the Wastes and that adds up over the years.”
“I can tell you whatever you want to know,” said Sigille.
Emaldine raised an eyebrow with obvious skepticism.
“If you promise to not go after Anand without my blessing, which would require you to have strong and trustworthy friends as well as the required abilities and equipment,” said Sigille. “Alternatively, you just have to beat me in a duel.”
Emaldine growled to herself.
“You’ve been through a lot,” said Sigille with a warm look and a bitter smile. “Take some time to rest. Get to know your brother—”
“Forget that,” snapped Emaldine. “That… person is not my brother. Even if everything you have told me is true, then it was still… He still had a part in pa’s death.” She grit her teeth. “He’s not my brother.”
“If you say so.” Sigille sighed tiredly. “You are old enough to manage your own whanau.” She stared into Emaldine’s eyes. “But I won’t have you lash out against Matteo. If you need to vent, do it somewhere else. Matteo has been through enough.”
Emaldine snorted.
“Whaka Emaldine, look at me,” demanded Sigille. “Imagine following the orders of the only parent figure you have ever known and the next time you become aware of yourself, your head is filled with the most horrifying memories.”
Sigille stared intently at her daughter. “Memories of you slaughtering everyone around you. The two children that were your closest friends. Most of your instructors. The protectors of the tower. Most of the nearby manaless. Men, women, children. Ending with the tower master that sacrificed his life to stop your rampage.”
Emaldine averted her eyes and looked at the floor.
“Imagine not being conscious through any of it, only to wake up and remember everything from the perspective of the monster that killed them all.” Sigille clenched her fists.
Sigille sighed. “You left your scavenging group when you suspected that innocents might have come to harm. I am proud of you, but please imagine what it would feel like to wake up in Matteo’s place. He never had a real choice in what happened.”
Emaldine frowned, but said nothing.
Sigille sighed again. “At least greet your cousin.”
That statement caused Emaldine to look up with creased brows. “Cousin?”
“Little Silly’s child,” explained Sigille.
“Florine? Or Jorgen?” Emaldine’s eyes opened with anticipation. “I barely remember the little chipmunks.”
“Understandable, they were still toddlers back then,” muttered Sigille in reminiscence. “But no, not them. Whaka Terry is Isille’s accepted son. The young man that stood together with the cultist and the scrawny elf when you arrived.”
“The one that seemed young but had a freakishly intense mana signature?” asked Emaldine.
“Yeah, that’s the one,” replied Sigille. “And he really is young.”
“Makes it even more freakish,” mumbled Emaldine.
“I’ve also taken him as my disciple while he’s here in Tiv,” said Sigille.
“The freak has my sympathies,” murmured Emaldine.
Sigille snorted. “Actually, I haven’t heard a single complaint from him yet. On the contrary, Little Terry keeps exceeding my expectations for how far he can be pushed. To be honest, the kid seems to push himself the hardest.”
Sigille chuckled. “Or maybe that’s just him completely lacking perspective for what expectations towards himself are reasonable. The kid manages some impressive feats while looking unsatisfied.” She shrugged. “Terry and a canan named Tara are currently my most promising disciples. What they lack in spellwork, they make up for in grit and hard work.”
Sigille shot her daughter a challenging look. “You could try a spar… If you have kept up with your training, that is.”
Emaldine snorted without comment.
***