Yara pushed open the door to an inn. She cringed when it slammed into a wall and she realised just how forcefully she'd opened it. Githeon snickered quietly. They’d just crossed into clan Ssovach territory on their way to a place Yara really wanted to see. The Scar, or An Chreacht in the local language, was a geological formation at the heart of the island. Yara and Githeon had stopped along the way to take a break. Yara looked around. The inn wasn’t too busy, especially for the time of day. One corner of the main hall was occupied by a group of tall men, they sat around a large table close to the fire. Behind the bar was a short but plump woman carefully cleaning a glass. Yara took a better look at her. She wasn't plump, instead she was quite muscular. Her arms were broad, it was no surprise she had to take care not to break the glass she held. Her hair was red and wavy, but kept loose. She asked something in Fiaighan, which Yara obviously didn’t understand. She opened her mouth to reply and clarify she didn't know what was said, but Githeon intervened pretty much immediately. He replied in their own language before he looked at Yara.
'She asked what you wanted,' Githeon asked. Yara's eyes quickly darted from the countertop, to Githeon's face, and back to the countertop again.
‘I'll take a pint, I guess,’ she replied quietly. Yara signalled to her friend that she'd go and look for a place to sit. She noticed one of the bulky men stand up and immediately she prepared herself for anything that might happen. Judging by his husky and tall figure Yara expected him to try and get her attention, but to her pleasant surprise he walked past her and towards Githeon. The only words Yara recognised were Githeon’s clan name when the man began to speak. He aggressively poked at Githeon’s chest as he barked more words in Fiaighan. Yara looked on after having found a place to sit, she wanted to get up and step in when she saw it, but Githeon stopped her. He replied in his native language before slapping the other man on the back and laughing heartily, which he reciprocated. Yara looked down as she listened to them speak. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the man point at her. Again he said something in his native language, but Githeon shook his head and interjected. The man adjusted.
‘Who might you be then?’ he said with a thick accent as he walked towards- and sat down next to her. He slapped her hard on her shoulder, which Yara definitely didn't enjoy, ‘and where did he manage to catch someone like you?’
‘He didn’t,’ said Yara through gritted teeth. She wanted his hand off of her. Just about a decade ago she wouldn't've thought she could take someone like him in a fight, but now she'd be willing to throw a few punches for him to leave her alone. She focused her gaze on the table in front of her. The man laughed and looked at Githeon, who shook his head at him.
'Better take your hands off of her,' he said, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking, 'I wouldn't try and piss her off.'
The man looked at Yara and saw that her expression was indignant, angry even. Carefully he retreated his arm.
‘So what is Githeon den Chlaíomh doing in southern Sscovach lands, we'd heard your excellency was across the channel doing your judgely duties there instead.’
‘We’re only passing through. Yara's my guest here, she's looking for something to distract her,’ said Githeon, ‘I don’t intend to stay here any longer than necessary.’
‘The girl’s a lot like your brother, quiet and all I mean,’ said the man as if Yara wasn't sitting right there, ‘Whatever happened to him anyway?’
‘Travelled to Órloch, I think.’
The barmaid walked up to their table and brought them what they'd ordered. Yara's glass was tall, filled to the brim, with a cap of foam on top of the golden beer.
‘I realise I neglected to introduce myself!’ said the man, ‘The name’s Seamus, Seamus of clan Sscovach,’ he extended his hand and Yara carefully reached out to shake it. She wasn't exactly in a sociable mood. Seamus appeared to be able to read that off of her face, and so he gave a satisfied nod to their limp handshake.
‘What’re you planning on seeing first?’ he asked.
'She's already seen the Loch near where I live,' Githeon said, 'but we're currently on our way to An Chreacht.’
‘The Scar? A mighty fine sight,’ Seamus laughed before he took Githeon’s drink and chugged it. Githeon just looked at him empty his tankard.
‘You owe me,’ he said.
‘How much is that now? I must owe you an ox at this point.’
‘Make that a few.’
Seamus looked at Yara, who had retreated into herself a little, ‘you should be careful when heading that way,’ he said.
‘How so?’ asked Yara. She'd been daydreaming slightly, thinking of two men she'd rather have been there with.
‘A Peryton’s been sighted in the area, and those things are ruthless,’ Seamus said, 'vicious vampire deer.'
‘Ah there’s nothing to worry about,’ said Githeon, ‘Yara here is the woman that slew the Nathair na Gheimhridh all by herself on the loch's frozen surface.’
'So, a woman that can handle herself, good, the folk here could use more of that,’ he said the last part quietly as he glanced at the woman behind the bar.
‘Don’t let Clan Fiactir hear you say that,’ Githeon laughed, 'or Mirna for that matter,' he gestured at her too, 'you'd be out of a job otherwise.'
The three of them spent a little more time around the table before Yara and Githeon bid Seamus farewell.
* * *
They were on horseback and riding towards their destination when Yara couldn’t hold her question anymore.
‘I thought you said the other clans despised Clan Sscovach?’ she was a little confused by how warmly he'd interacted with Seamus, 'you seemed to like him just fine.'
‘I did say that, didn’t I,’ said Githeon, ‘to tell you the truth, I might’ve exaggerated a bit.’
‘Really wish people wouldn't do that,’ said Yara as she looked ahead. She'd gotten into plenty of bad situations because of exaggeration.
‘In reality it’s a lot more grey than that. Sure we might not actively hate the clan, but they don’t belong here, not even after all this time,’ explained Githeon, ‘I shouldn’t neglect to mention that their clan heads are usually shitrags.’
‘My guess is that they’re greedy land grabbers that take what doesn’t belong to them,’ Yara said absently, thinking of both Meya Ebonblade and her father.
‘Hit the nail straight on the head there, it’s how they settled Talamh Fiaigh and they’ve been doing it ever since, if it weren’t for folk like Seamus I’d likely have no good opinion of the Sscovachs at all.’
* * *
After some time spent not talking the pair rode over a hilltop and looked out over the inner bay of Talamh Fiaigh, with a large chasm of black amorphous rock taking up most of the landscape. It looked almost carved through the landscape. The earth was even being slightly angled upward, like it was a real wound that had failed to heal.
‘Woah…’ Yara let out in disbelief, ‘is that it?’
Githeon nodded and pointed toward a village built at its edge.
‘One of the world’s wonders if you ask the folk around here.’
‘I can’t disagree with them,’ Yara’s attention was focused entirely on the ravine. As they got closer to it she could make out shapes in the rock. It was all shaped like hexa- and pentagonal pillars tightly melded together by the eons it must've taken for the world to form. She looked on to the end of the chasm closest to the village. Yara could make out sets of stairs and pillars carved by humans.
'What's that about?' she asked, pointing at the structures.
‘Oh, now you've reminded me I really ought to tell you,’ said Githeon, ‘An Chreacht is home to Talamh Fiaigh’s largest burial site.’
‘It’s home to what now?’
‘Largest burial site, stretches the whole ravine. If your clan deems it worthy you’ll be buried in their crypt here. It’s a great honour really.’
‘Why here, of all places?’
‘An Chreacht is where every clan except for clan Sscovach got their unique abilities in the time period you might refer to as the Dragon Era,’ explained Githeon, ‘our shamans would have us believe that our clans gathered there during some magical event. I don't really know, but they seem to know more than me.’
‘Wait, is that what you meant when you said “each of us is strong like a bear” back on Angalir?’
‘Yes, though admittedly our clan’s power is less impressive than those of the others.’
‘What others are there?’
‘Clan Eilcfyr can turn into Elk once every seven days, and clan den Chleit have the power to sing fish into their nets, but those are all the ones I can remember.’
They soon reached the town, where villagers went about their day as they would normally, though an air of suspicion hung around the area. The alertness wasn’t necessarily due to the strangers that had just arrived but instead seemed to be focused on the other townsfolk. Yara had trouble really understanding why.
‘I wonder what these people are so on-edge about,’ she felt it was better to ask Githeon than to keep quietly wondering to herself.
‘My guess would be the peryton, it’s hard to stay calm knowing one of your neighbours might be a blood drinking shapeshifter.’
‘You think it’s an Eilcfyr?’ Yara put one and two together once Githeon mentioned shapeshifting.
Githeon nodded, ‘it’d make sense, they wouldn’t be the first either. Peryton are just vampiric deer, after all.’
They got off their horses when they reached the entrance to the graveyard and the chasm it was built in. Night was approaching fast and a changing of the cemetery guard was underway as Yara walked towards the gates. The new guard, a tired-looking man wearing a black and white tartan, spoke to her in Fiaighan. Naturally Githeon had to answer for her. The guard shrugged at Githeon's reply.
‘He can’t let you in,’ the judge said, ‘you can probably already guess why.’
Yara's shoulders dropped a little, ‘can't you convince them?’ she asked. Githeon shook his head however.
‘He told me to take it up with the Morgynn clan head,’ he said, ‘and if I know anything about clan Morgynn, it’s that their clan head is stubborn as an ox.’
‘It’s worth a try though,’ said Yara, ‘do you know where to find him?’
* * *
‘The answer is no!’ shouted Brandon Morgynn, the head of his clan, ‘I do not care how experienced your friend is, entrance to An Chreacht is forbidden, especially to outsiders.’
‘You’d deny an offer for help from the woman that slew the ice serpent?’
‘That I would, a peryton is not a dragon, it is more cunning, and aside from that it is vampiric,’ Brandon leaned forward in his chair and looked at Yara, ‘I wouldn’t want her to come under any harm,’ there was something in his eyes. His greasy, deep brown hair hung in front of his face as he stared at his guests.
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‘So you expect it to leave on its own?’
‘I do, Perytons hardly have the greatest attention span. Move on, Githeon den Chlaíomh. You are not needed here,’ spat Brandon, 'and neither are you, Stormcleaver,' he nodded to his guards who escorted Yara and Githeon out of the hall. Once outside Yara immediately walked to her horse.
‘You’re not planning on leaving, are you?’
‘I know when I’m not wanted-’
‘But that doesn’t mean you have to leave,’ Githeon interrupted.
‘I’m aware, just because I’m not wanted doesn’t mean I’m not needed,’ Yara finished her sentence, 'I can still do what I'm good at.'
‘So what are you planning?’
‘My idea was to climb down,’ said Yara, ‘there’s not exactly a fence around the chasm,’
‘I’m not sure that’s safe, I’d just try to go in through the gate.’
‘When would I do that? They’re guarding it at all times.’
Githeon sunk into thought to try and figure out a course of action. The ones that came up in his mind first were reckless or illegal, after all it needed to draw the attention of the guards, ‘I could try to cause a scene maybe?' he suggested, 'a bar fight or something could work.’
‘I’m certain you’ll figure something out,’ said Yara as she stared at the gate, ‘in the meantime, I’d like to take a bit of a break.'
Night had already fallen when Yara walked out of the town’s meeting hall. Faint orange light shone through the small windows in the little houses built along the main path. Just as she passed the corner that led to the graveyard gate Githeon ran past her. He shouted something in Fiaighan at the guard, who immediately followed him. Yara waited until she was sure they were out of view when she turned and ran at the gate. It opened with a loud, ear-piercing screech. The graveyard itself was hard to see during the night, but the moon’s light illuminated Yara’s path. It was eerily quiet there in that chasm, her steps seemed muffled on the meticulously carved stairs. A thin midnight mist hung over the place. It was far away enough that she could see far around her, but still visibly there.
The atmosphere of the chasm reminded her of Nordkrysset’s cathedral district, where the city had also become quite literally lifeless and empty. The Peryton wasn't going to show itself anytime soon. Yara checked every crypt and tomb she passed for anything odd. She didn’t understand a word of what was written on any of the plaques, only some of the clan names stood out. The sound of a rockslide in the distance echoed through the chasm and made Yara’s hairs stand on end. Though she had been reminded of Nordkrysset, this place was far more unsettling. Graveyards already had that unnerving quality, now combined with a vampiric creature they became a place she'd rather avoid finding herself, especially at night. The Mourner had at least been a kind surprise. More sounds permeated the air the further Yara walked down the stairs, right up until the moment she stepped down from the last step and onto the mossy pavement at the bottom.
Every sound stopped. Yara could hear her heart thumping in her chest and the sound was only slightly muffled by her armour. The crypts around her now had open doorways. Catacombs that reached far into the earth. Tunnels which would go on for miles. Yara desperately hoped she wouldn't have to go in there. As she walked through the graveyard she listened closely for anything out of the ordinary. Barring the sound of her heartbeat there was nothing obscuring her hearing. There was no sound, no nothing, no change whatsoever, yet Yara’s heart began to beat more quickly. There was something wrong here. The sudden change frightened her, and it alerted her to her surroundings.
Out of the dark a figure hurled towards her. Large feathered wings helped it quietly glide through the air before it landed right in front of her, its hooves not making a sound as they touched down. Its head was like that of a great elk, with a magnificent, giant pair of antlers adorning it, within its mouth a row of lengthy fangs made up the creature’s incisors. Its front limbs were hooved, while its hind limbs were like those of a bird of prey. The creature was much larger than any elk Yara had ever seen, even here on Talamh Fiaigh. Though she may have gone looking for the Peryton, it would seem the monster had found her first. Its landing had not broken the chasm’s silence. Yara instinctively reached for her sword and took it out of its sheath, still completely quiet. The peryton looked like it meant to hiss when it saw Skycleave pointed its way.
‘I realise that you’re an animal that needs to hunt,’ she said. She was under the assumption that much like a dragon, a Peryton might understand what she was saying, ‘but you need to leave this place either way.’
As the words left her mouth they made no echo, and Yara realised that only she herself had heard what she said.
The Peryton tilted its head and began to imitate human laughter in an odd chortle, it was one of the only sounds to break the silence. It lunged forwards and swiped at her with its forelimbs. The monster then braced itself, lowered its head, and opened its fanged maw. The screech of an owl and the bellowing of a deer blasted forth from its throat. Its call was booming, loud, and Yara found herself wishing she'd brought her shield.
As it called the sounds of the chasm returned at once. Rocks colliding in the distance, the chirping of grasshoppers, all of it, like the monster had collected all that sound and now used it as a weapon. A tsunami of audio which overwhelmed Yara completely, to the point she had to drop her sword and cover her ears. She almost started hyperventilating as all the sounds crashed into her. It was too much. Too much sound. Not quite sure what to do she tried to make herself as small as possible. Yara teared up, her eyes pressed shut. She opened her eyes first once the sound was gone, followed by uncovering her ears before she looked around for her foe.
The Peryton was gone from sight. Now that the sound was back however she could hear its wings moving as it flew. The echoes of feathers hitting the air came from the east of the graveyard and Yara rushed after it. There the creature skulked around the gravestones. She could hear the occasional clack of its hooves and the ticking of its avian talons on the mossy pavement. Yara readied herself from an attack, but what she didn’t expect was that the Peryton lunged in from behind her, somehow it had tricked her into believing it was somewhere else. It let out another harrowing call, though still shrill it wasn’t nearly as powerful as the shriek from before. The creature strut towards Yara, who stood ready to attack the moment the peryton would lash out.
It charged at full speed, antlers pointed downwards and ready to hit her. It nearly rammed Yara, who in a low dodge managed to avoid the brunt of the sharp spikes, but was still thrown off-balance. In retaliation she swung her sword at its head. instead of hitting her intended target however, the sword’s edge instead hit and bored into one of the antlers, where it got stuck.
Yara tried to pull her sword out but the monster’s head moved too much for her to get a proper grip. Now unarmed she was still nowhere near done with the monster. An advantage showed itself near immediately however: The Peryton’s antlers, which due to their massive size would’ve already put strain on the creature’s neck, were now weighed down immensely on one side from the weight of the sword. Its head was tilted to the side at an almost right angle and it had to take care not to let its antlers drag over the ground. The Peryton yelped a shrill call. Yara walked towards it and grabbed hold of Skycleave’s hilt to try once more to remove it, except this time she also kicked at the Peryton’s legs, which forced its entire body onto the ground, yelping as it fell. When she managed to pull Skycleave free she took her foot off of the monster, which stood up immediately.
Once more the creature attempted to swipe at her with its hooves. This time, however, Yara was prepared and made one swift upward motion. Skycleave's razor sharp edge practically flew through the monster's forelimb and sliced off its hoof. It shrieked loudly before its sounds morphed into the pained screams of a man. The Peryton darted to flee as it began an arduous and visibly painful transformation. Yara followed in an attempt to catch it, only to lose its trail moments after she'd started.
* * *
Following the fight Yara returned to the village, only to find the entire guard to be up in arms and scrambling to find supplies. Some ran into the meeting hall and Yara chose to investigate. There Brandon Morgynn sat on the floor, his right hand grasping at his left arm. Blood streamed from a wound he was hesitant to show anyone.
'Get me a bandage or a dressing you idiots!' he shouted through clenched teeth, 'Do you want me to bleed to death!?'
Yara already managed to put two and two together in her head. She knew exactly how Brandon had gotten injured. He glared at her with a look that could kill. He knew too. He was aware of what had happened, what he'd done.
'What's going on?' asked Githeon as he entered the building, realising he'd asked the wrong question when he saw Brandon sitting on the ground clutching at what was left of his forearm, 'what happened!?' he was perhaps a little bewildered.
'I'd caught onto your little scheme and followed her into An Chreacht in case she might need help,' said Brandon, 'as I said during our meeting, Perytons are no laughing matter,' he glared at Yara again, 'when the monster Eerie-ed the graveyard she panicked and sliced my hand off clean.'
Githeon looked at Yara, who had her gaze focused on Brandon. He was lying through his teeth, she knew that, but she also understood discussing this in public in front of his guards would be a death sentence. A guard entered and brought him a dressing that he immediately used to cover and pressurise the wound. A tourniquet had already been used to cut off blood flow.
'Leave us,' he said to the guards.
'Are you certain?'
'A den Chlaíomh wouldn't harm me, and I doubt the girl meant to injure me,' said Brandon with a nod. The guard obliged and led the others out. Once only Brandon, Githeon, and Yara were left the tone of the conversation changed.
'You're fortunate I'm merciful enough to hide what truly happened,' said Brandon, 'they'd have your head.'
'I doubt you'll be entirely blameless,' said Yara.
'they wouldn't believe an Anglan over their own blood.'
'I'm sure they would if they knew you were drinking their blood every night,' Yara said indignantly. She had an eyebrow raised.
'What exactly is going on!?' asked Githeon, confused by the conversation that unfolded in front of him.
'Brandon's the Peryton that's been sighted in the area,' Yara answered him, 'had the luxury of finding that out earlier.'
'How do you know?'
'Because she cut my bloody hand off!' Brandon wanted to shout, but he kept his voice down, 'you're not that stupid are you.'
'Your hoof.'
'Look, I don't think bickering will get either of you anywhere,' Githeon pinched the bridge of his nose. He'd have to deal with this now, considering his job.
'The judge has reached a verdict!' said Brandon with biting sarcasm.
'Do you want my opinion or should I have you two fight it out?' asked Githeon rhetorically, 'we both know she'd be the one to walk out of here alive.'
'Fine, tell us.'
'How about all three of us forget what happened tonight, and Yara never shows her face in Morgynn lands again?' Githeon looked back and forth between them. Yara nodded, and so did Brandon, 'Good, that's good.'
'I suggest you leave soon,' said Brandon, 'as patient as I'm being with you, frankly I want you out of here as soon as possible.'
'Couldn't agree more,' Yara said with a nod.
* * *
Not long after Yara and Githeon were on horseback again, riding away from An Chreacht. Yara had been quiet the entire time they’d been underway.
‘Copper for your thoughts?’ asked Githeon, his head slightly tilted.
‘Hm?’ she shook her head and looked at him.
‘You looked deep in thought, are you thinking about what happened at An Chreacht?’
‘I am,’ said Yara, ‘It’s helped me realise something.’
‘What’s that then?’
‘That I never want to look at another graveyard again in my life.’