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Dead of night, light a light...
at Talons
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A dying Titus' words to Lord Storm Nattas
outside the city of Alden,
Early spring of 190 NC
[https://i.imgur.com/OtlVN7v.jpg]
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Whisper Jinx
The Wraith of Gish Lament
Part II
-Mostly skulls-
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Jinx smelled of the sea, felt the salt on her skin and relished in the breeze blowing on her face. She touched an old wall with a hand, old cracks running its surface, most of the missing material gone when the waters retreated. The ancient roads leading to the plateau and the ruin of the mastaba resembling white arteries on the exposed flesh of a carcass. Nature and the elements had raped the port, but its footprint was still there, even when most of its buildings were caricatures of their former selves.
This was no Rida and certainly no Goras. The scale smaller but the distinct concentric half-circles carved up the gentle slopes were present. Maeriel hissed frustrated landing on the cracked granite tiles, her eyes on the lights the larger group had brought into the port.
“Tell Mathews to put them out,” she ordered Elaniel. The young Zilan, Elaniel was of course in her sixth decade just to keep things in perspective, had lost some of her sparkle as the days had gone by, turning more and more like her teacher. Maeriel was a serious girl, but this version of her Jinx didn’t like.
“It’s heartache,” Maeriel explained answering her voiceless query. “She’ll get over it.”
“Does she know?” Jinx asked tying another knot on her ponytail, a couple of locks refusing to cooperate and dancing in her face.
“She grew up in the jungle,” Maeriel said and glanced at the empty darkness, the wind playing tricks on Jinx’s ears as it howled through the remnants of empty ancient streets. “Verbal tales leave out the nitty-gritty, makes adventurers appear like knights, or nobler than they are. One needs structure to learn stuff.”
“Not all verbal tales,” Jinx reminded her, the Zilan’s rigid caste system was so deeply ingrained in Maeriel it made her sound silly sometimes. Also it was weird seeing as she had fought the hardest to ensure ‘her strays’ made it and were accepted.
“The past is long gone,” Maeriel droned.
“Sure purple-head,” Jinx teased her, seeing Elaniel arguing with Marlo and the adventurers. Even Sam looked very frustrated as they noisily approached livening the dead city.
“Have ye seen anything?” Jinx asked, touching her fingers gently. The skin there rough and calloused from using the longbow for over three centuries.
“Nothing,” her lover admitted. “But you know they are watching.”
“They always do,” Jinx said glancing at the calm dark waters. “But they rarely showed themselves back home. The story is, they never lay claim on settled lands.”
“The story is erroneous in part,” Maeriel replied with a tensed grimace. “They fill what’s empty like water and they never give it back.”
“Maeriel,” Sam grunted, face covered in dried up brine, cracks near his mouth. “We need to make sure this place is empty.”
“It is. We rest the night and look anew in the morning,” Maeriel replied. “Get those lights away Mathews.”
“What about a fire?”
“Fine,” Maeriel relented. “But everyone needs to keep together.”
“Yeah,” Marlo intervened. “We ain’t doing that afore we check on the perimeter and those bloody ruins.”
“Keep to the walls of the lighthouse,” Maeriel said.
“Thought this was a granary,” Marlo griped. “Where’s the rest of it?”
“The sea took it.”
Marlo smacked his lips, tongue working the inside of his unshaved cheek thinking about it.
“I’ll see to the horses,” he finally said.
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The fire crackled, pitifully small, it failed to illuminate the inside of the torn down lighthouse. A meter of thick wall was still standing in a square, the ground inside it covered in rotten seaweed and old dirt.
Jinx walked on the remnants of the wall to its corner and stared at the street running parallel to the docks. Cole appeared returning torch in hand, the light casting long shadows that reached the gentle waves breaking on the sandstone wharves, the frothy water splashing over them leaving wet marks on the worn out tiles.
“Found anything?” Sam asked him standing outside their campsite, arms crossed on his chest.
“The place is scraped clean,” Cole rustled looking right and left at the empty former alleys. “Spooky as all fucks.”
“Gods darn it,” Sam cursed and Jinx grinned seeing his frown.
Better not to find anything silly, she thought.
“There’re some weird-arse posts outside the fuckin’ pyramid. Makin’ a circle of sorts,” Cole grunted stopping to talk with Sam, lightstone torch in hand making them appear pale, the colors washed out. Black and white. “Thick as me thigh, made out of granite, rusted steel rings in them.”
“For animals?” Sam queried.
Jinx frowned and stood up.
“Probably,” Cole replied with a shrug, the hardened leather cuirass he had on creaking. “Hush went in wit Jingo for a closer look.”
“The Mastaba?” Sam said with a grimace.
“Whatever the fuck it’s called,” Cole agreed.
“How tall?” Jinx asked from where she stood and both men recoiled, quickly brushing it off not to appear squeamish.
“Is that ye Jinx?” Sam asked clearing his throat.
“Do ye know a lot of girls wit me hair?” She teased and jumped down. Jinx dived into a roll the moment her feet touched the ground, reaching them in a second.
“What the fuck…?” Cole gasped thoroughly impressed for sure, else I fucked me back for naught, she thought jumping upright, making a show of it.
“Ahm,” Sam hummed unsure. “What do ye mean Jinx?” he asked playing it cool.
“The posts,” she elucidated grinning from ear to ear, after first blowing a wayward curl out of her left eyeball. Jinx had to clench her teeth to keep her smarting eye from twitching and it probably made her grin come out a snarl, judging from the fit lads’ reaction.
Fuck’s sake.
“Yay high,” Cole showed her with his free hand. “Maybe shorter.”
Hmm.
“Here’s yer girlfriend mate,” Sam teased him and pointed at the lights coming down from the plateau. Cole turned a little red in the face.
“That’s not what it is Mathews.”
“Sure. What's the matter wit Jingo? Haven’t met a more guarded person.”
“He’s not guarded, just dull. Uninterested,” Cole replied and turned to the approaching duo. Jinx saw they carried a sack with them.
“Hey there… Hush. Took yer time,” Cole said after a couple of false starts, Jinx’s and Sam Mathews’ intense scrutiny getting to him.
“Did ye miss me?” Hush retorted in her throaty voice. Whilst on the skinny side, the woman had plenty of character. “We’ve been digging in the ruins.”
“Digging what?” Sam asked.
“Found the entrance to a basement,” she explained and raised a dark brow to Jinx’s lewd wink. “Jingo did. Kinda sniffed it out. Better than a dog.”
“Anything in it?” The adventurer asked the silent Issir and he tossed the sack afore their feet. Its contents crackling and clattering with some spilling out. Jinx gasped, a shiver running down her spine and jumped back in panic, Jingo’s disinterested voice barely registering to her ringing ears.
“Bones,” the adventurer had replied. “Mostly skulls.”
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Hilton Marlo creased his brow staring at the macabre loot Hush and Jingo had brought back from their search. Everyone was present, with Soren standing with the two Zilan rangers and a shaken Jinx.
“That’s a critter up the shitter alright,” Marlo finally blurted out and glanced at a troubled Sam Mathews. “Any of them ours? Take a guess.”
“Those bones in there were ancient,” Cole explained and Marlo nodded, afore puffing out.
“Anyone has any plaguing insight?”
“Were they trapped in that basement of yours? Survivors of the initial blast perhaps?” Sam asked Jingo. “Where are the rest of their skeletons?”
“It wasn’t that kind of basement me thinks,” Cole retorted. “Or other bones present mate.”
“Fuck that’s supposed to mean?” Sam grunted all fired up.
“Them skulls are… fuck, these are kids Sam,” Marlo intervened.
No they aren’t.
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“That’s what I thought,” Hush murmured looking at a visibly uncomfortable Jinx.
“These are dead Gish,” she said stepping forward. Sam grimaced not expecting it. Jinx glanced back at a gloomy-faced Maeriel. “Want to offer yer academic input? What do yer texts say?”
“Young wyvern needed training, or they didn’t survive,” Maeriel croaked, looking at the upset Gish. “It was common practice to bring the younglings easy targets to learn the ropes and get them used to feed away from Zilan flesh. Ships were sent to the Sinking Isles to hunt for Gish and to restock when they run out.”
“Good grief,” Cole gasped in shock.
Sam had turned a sickly yellow, his jaw clenched hard. “What’s wit the skulls?” he rustled glaring at the exasperated Zilan.
“I’ve said enough,” Maeriel hissed and Soren grunted not liking her response.
“Heads are a delicacy,” Jinx explained.
“Drool,” Maeriel protested, but Jinx stopped her with a strained smile.
“Soletha is in the Council,” Jinx told her harshly, which wasn’t fair since it was Glen’s decision and Maeriel wasn’t on the priestess and healer’s side, but she felt a little angry with her just the same. “So she can explain it better, but eyes, brains, tongue and lips make for tasty selections and potent spells right?”
“Uh,” Cole grunted. “That’s some bizarre shite. Nigh disturbing, just saying.”
“Not good,” Soren rumbled angry.
Hush just hissed narrowing her eyes.
Sam stood speechless and stared apologetically Jinx’s way.
Even Elaniel looked visibly sick.
“This is ancient history,” Maeriel snapped feeling everyone’s accusing and disgusted glares. “Old bones. That’s not why we are here—”
“This ain’t an old skull,” Marlo murmured. He had stooped over the pile of small skulls and sifted through them, stopping at the one he had in his hands. “There’s a bit of blood leaking out the crack.”
What?
“Are you sure?” Sam gasped snapping out of his stupor and stooped to see for himself.
“See those two holes in the back?” Marlo showed him. “And look the nose is different, not oval shaped wit small holes like ‘em others. That’s a human skull mate.”
Jinx turned her head around feeling a touch of cold breeze at the back of her neck. Maeriel had twisted around as well her eyes on the part of the wall still standing, illuminated from their camp fire. The shades there dancing, long and short, black and a strange hue of washed out red. The wind blew over the ancient granite wall, its howl turning to a whistle at first, then the shrilling note of a song.
A perverted child’s lullaby.
Come here… dear, the shades sang to them.
“Fuck was that?” Cole snapped.
“Where?” Jinx yelled at a worried Maeriel and she hissed afore reaching for her longbow.
“I can’t…” the Zilan said, just as Jinx run fast and jumped lithely on the top of the half-destroyed wall surrounding their camp to look outside. The Gish reached the narrow edge, running on the tips of her boots, looked to her left and down but saw only dark. She turned her head the other way intending to check that part of the building’s exterior and found a thin, black haired girl sitting next to her. Eyes black as the night ocean, the irises huge and covering the whole sclera.
Naked as the day she was born.
“Don’t wait for dawn,” the young creepy girl chanted to her, smiling at the end of it shyly, afore adding in a whispery voice. “Whence wicked dreams are born.”
Damn, Jinx thought, realizing she’d a bleeding cut on her thigh.
“Aww,” the girl cooed looking at the blood.
Marlo’s hoarse voice ringing behind her and snapping the stunned Gish out of her reverie.
“There! Get that little shite!” The adventurer roared. “Whatever that shite is!”
“The girl?” Hush grumbled.
“NOBODY MOVES! She’s in the way,” Maeriel admonished him. “Jinx step aside love,” she added calmly despite the tension lurking underneath.
Jinx, her heart beating wild in her chest, stared at the naked freakish girl with the long hair pooling at her small wet feet.
“Drool,” Maeriel warned her and Jinx heard Soren coming, heavy boots thudding inside the enclosed space.
“I’m sorry,” Jinx told the creature and took a step back. The girl blinked and then Maeriel’s arrow skewered her narrow torso dead center.
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Jinx’s shoulder hit the fractured surface at the top of the wall, turned over it and dropped down just as the arriving Nord reached the only part of the old lighthouse still standing. Above them the fatally injured girl slumped over the edge, bleeding profoundly, thin body wrecked with sharp spasms.
“Grab her,” Jinx panted to a frowning Soren. “Don’t’ let her fall down.”
She stumbled on her feet, while the Nord lowered the now unresponsive creature dragging her by an arm like a broken doll.
“Jinx,” Maeriel said tensely. “You’re hurt.”
“Tis nothing,” she reassured her and approached the hurt girl.
“What in Tyeus spear…? Is that a kid?” Marlo grunted with Sam rushing the ranger, his eyes wild.
“Have you lost yer mind?” Sam growled irate, but Maeriel cut him off impatiently.
“Everyone check the perimeter!” She yelled to the others. “Mister Cole keep your eyes at the door please!”
“Maeriel,” Sam walked in her face, barring her way. “What the hells is going on?”
“You found your culprit Sam.”
“Fuck she just said?” Marlo grunted looking at Jinx trying desperately to revive the creature that had started turning. Its fingers and toes lengthening, long bony protrusions coming out her knuckles and thin blue membranes forming in the gaps. The flesh itself changing color from white to dark green.
“What do you mean?” Sam grunted and glanced at the girl morphing into her real form before their very eyes.
“Gallopin’ fuckin’ Gremlins,” an astounded Hilton Marlo cursed.
“Aye,” Hush agreed with Cole turning his head and querying nervous from the gaping dark entrance.
“The fuck is happening guys!”
Eh, Jinx thought, dark blue gore covering her hands, as she strained to stop the bleeding. This ain’t helping.
“Maeriel,” Jinx and Sam said at the same time. The Gish breaking the arrow and pulling it out of the wound, turning the unresponsive creature around to remove the steel tip as well. She felt the flesh parting under the small breasts, exposing bony branchial arches, the diaphanous gills a bright red.
“She shot a thing,” Marlo mumbled, deep crease on his brow and spat down.
“That’s a Ticu,” Maeriel told the angry adventurer, afore turning to Jinx. “My aim was true love.”
I know.
“Uh? What did that cunt say?” Marlo grunted.
“A type of Mermaid,” Maeriel replied frostily letting the cat out of the bag. “A shapeshifting Siren.”
“Give me a potion,” Jinx urged her and glanced at Elaniel staring at the creature shocked.
“It’s gone Jinx,” Maeriel scolded her, adding softly. “I couldn’t risk losing you.”
“She’s not,” Jinx snapped hurt. It was her idea to keep them a secret. “Give me the potion Maeriel.”
“This thing took them?” Sam asked trying to wrap his mind around it.
“They are dead Mathews,” the ranger told him, pleading with Jinx to let it go. “Turned to bones, their skulls kept to recreate what they believed was a ritual.”
“What is she talking about?” Cole asked ogling his eyes to catch any strange movement in the pitch black. “I think the singing stopped,” he informed them a moment later, but everyone ignored him.
“What’s this potion?” Marlo queried crooking his mouth.
Maeriel reached for her satchel and got a vial out. “Are you sure?” She asked Jinx and the Gish nodded. Maeriel tossed her the vial and Jinx caught it easily.
“Wait,” Sam told them. “Are there more of 'em freaks around?”
“Yes,” Jinx replied and he stood back alarmed.
“Do ye have any more of that?” Marlo asked the Zilan, now twice more interested in the healing potion.
“Not for all,” Maeriel retorted.
“I don’t know about that Sam,” Marlo griped, but Sam nodded for Jinx to make an effort to save the creature.
“Open her mouth,” Jinx quickly told a silent Elaniel. “So I can pour some of it down.”
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“You plaguin’ knew about this!” Sam growled at a tensed Maeriel, trying to keep his tempers in check and failing. Everyone turned to watch their confrontation, but for Elaniel who was diligently cleaning the gaping wound with a cloth, singing under her breath. “Does Glen know?”
“Who’s Glen?” Marlo probed, but no one paid him any attention.
“He doesn’t, but it wouldn’t have changed a thing,” Maeriel retorted. “Don’t expect to know Hardir’s will Mathews.”
Whoa there babe. How would you know it?
“Did you know?” Sam asked a troubled Jinx.
“I figured it out,” she replied softly. “Sam these people were lost since that night. The Ticu are Abrakas creatures. Once they mark ye, you can’t escape.”
“Fuckin’ superstitious crap,” he grunted and shook his head disappointed. “Now what?”
“We need to get out of the port,” Maeriel said matter-of-factly. “Keep those torches hidden before we bring more of them here. Light draws them near.”
“I ain’t sleeping in the dark,” Marlo informed her. “You’ve set us up lass,” he added accusingly.
“Marlo gods darn it. I don’t need this right now!” Sam snapped. “Put that light away!”
“Nobody is sleeping,” Maeriel elucidated. “They are out there.”
“How many?” Hush asked and the ranger shrugged her shoulders.
“Well that’s a finger up the stinger,” Marlo declared with a scowl and walked away seething.
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“Anything?” Jinx asked Soren climbing up the two meter high wall. The Nord could see easily over it.
“It’s dark as fuck pretty,” he told her and put a spade like hand on her shoulder. “How’s the leg?”
“Just a cut,” Jinx replied. “Didn’t feel it.”
“Knife?”
“Claw more like.”
“Hmm,” Soren glanced at the unresponsive young Ticu they had brought near their fire. “Didn’t appear dangerous.”
“Nothing seems threatening to you big guy,” Jinx teased him.
“Birds do. They are mean,” Soren corrected her. “Them sneaky eyes an’ side stares.”
“Right,” Jinx nodded and looked towards the quiet ancient docks. The waves splashing, the sea and the night becoming one in the distance.
“I’m sorry about yer people,” Soren murmured.
“Yeah,” Jinx replied with a grimace and shifted on her legs. “Twas a long time ago.”
“It don’t make it right.”
“No, it doesn’t,” she agreed with a tired smile. “Life isn’t fair ye dork.”
“Then life needs a punch in the face,” Soren retorted, just as one of their horses neighed loudly, the rest joining disturbed.
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Soren moved to investigate in his deliberate large strides. Maeriel rushed towards them in the meantime and tossed Jinx her bow first, then her quiver. The Gish hang the quiver on her shoulder and run to the other corner of the building, where they had left their animals. She navigated the narrow wall easily, her balance ever remarkable, despite being -as everyone else heading there- extremely nervous.
Hush reached them first her saber in hand, mules and horses grouped up for the night and signed for Jingo to go around the animals. The Issir moved unhurriedly carrying an axe and Jinx stood up on the wall to have a better grasp of the situation. She already had an arrow slotted between mid and index finger, holding her bow with her left hand.
“They cut your mare,” Hush told Maeriel. “She bleeds a lot.”
“Anyone saw them getting inside?” Marlo grunted.
Jinx glanced back towards the docks with a frown, hearing a clacking sound added to the noise coming from the sea. It kept repeating from all directions it seemed, but the Gish couldn’t spot anything hard as she tried.
The sky dark, moons hidden behind clouds.
Dammit.
This was Abrakas doing.
“Who’s wit the kid?” Jinx asked and looked towards their fire anxiously.
“Elaniel,” Maeriel snarled as much concern in her voice as anger and twisted around sharply.
The young Zilan’s scream rang inside the ruins of the massive lighthouse and turned a widely accepted wretched night, a tad worse.
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read it at Royalroad : https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/46739/touch-o-luck-the-old-realms
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