PBEM Game: Yarnspinners 2 (Running)

[djo]

Here's Vanheim's turn 3 yarn. For turn 0, and all the rest, see the wiki (link in my sig).

Vanheim Turn 3

In which Vethru arrives and considers what he's arrived to, and Pherios finds himself with greater, more exciting responsibilities.


Vethru

There are many ways to begin...philosophical, historical, paradoxical, with excitement, with romance, with suspense, literally, literarily, literately, emotionally, intellectually, viscerally, whimsically...but let's try factually on for size.

I'm returning empty-handed from a distant land where, I kid you not, the people are ruled by baker-kings, when I meet the old man at a crossroads. We're in one of those synesthetic dimensions where you feel like you're walking on music, and every time you open your mouth, it looks like the dreams of an abstract expressionist. I wasn't having any trouble with it, but he looked very puzzled.

"Ho, traveler," he says, calling down from his horse. "Do you know this land? I seem to have lost my way."

Maybe it has something to do with the fact he's only got one eye. Before I can answer, he asks, "Is that a seagull on your shoulder?"

"Yes," I tell him. "He's a pet." I say this mostly because Ji hates being called a pet.

"Are you a sailor, then? I am searching for land of sailors."

"I was," I say. There's something wrong with the stranger beside his eye; his appearance is very uncertain, very shaky. In this dimension, it comes across like an indistinct mix of aromas from a dozen kitchens. (I still can't get that baker's land out of my mind!)

"A sailor, and a bird lover! Fate has brought me just the man I need. I, too, have birds. Usually, they guide me, but I cannot find them. Have you seen two ravens in your travels?"

I had, and they were delicious. "I saw them down the right fork," I tell him, because I'm sensing something very, very interesting down the left fork. "Not too far along, either."

"Excellent," he says. "Thank you, old sailor, and may the wind be at your back." He straightens in his saddle. "I must be going; they are waiting for me."

After he disappears down the right fork, I follow the prayers I hear down the left fork. Don't judge me. I really was a sailor, once. Besides, he would've done the same to me, if I'd given him the chance. You can't trust a god, ever.

It's a dark and stormy night when I finally arrive. It's a normal world, where light goes in your eyes, and sound comes out of your mouth. Everything looks very old, which is good for what I'm looking for. But as you'd expect, they summoned me to the newest, cleanest temple. The priests are just like that one eyed old man, tall, with that shimmering, wavy appearance. I walk out into the courtyard, and it's filled with humans and a few more of the tall ones.

It becomes apparent they feel some dire need to conduct military exercises for me, in the rain, at midnight. They're all very enthusiastic, very eager to pledge their loyalty and honor and lives to me. I accept, of course, with great dignity. I let them parade back and forth a couple times, then I send them home so I can get out of the rain.

A couple hours later, after being introduced to a passel of Vanherses and Vanjarls, I'm finally left alone.

"I don't know," I say. "They're a fine fighting force, but honor and purity of heart will only get you so far."

Ji squawks. "Yeah, boss, I don't think these guys are cut out for back-alley wet work."

I'm wondering if I shouldn't have let One-Eye have them when there's a noise of the door. A wild eyed human is there. He's dressed in brown, and he's got a scraggly beard. "Come with me, if you would," he says. "There's more to see." He gives me a wink and a grin and a nod, so I follow him.

Around the back of the castle, in a dark, overgrown courtyard, are another dozen like him. No mounts, no spears or javelins for them. Big swords and axes. Not a one of the men is unscarred.

"This land's light and dark," he says. "These're your folk, too."

He takes me out the gate. The rain's stopped, and the wind blows the clouds from the moon. A beam catches a group of men milling around the base of a tower belching thick smoke. They make the einhere look tame. No armor, only furs. They twitch in the moonlight, snuffle as I pass. My guide pulls open the tower's rotting door, and as I enter and descend, I hear howls behind me.

In the flickering firelight, dark shapes work. Clanging punctuates the flare and spark of hot metal being hammered. A tall shape among the small limps toward me. She's got the usual uncertain presence, but unlike the boys out front, with their shine and dazzle, her misdirection is all oily shadow.

She's not a pretty picture. Her head's tilted over to touch an ear to a shoulder. Her skin is waxy blue-grey. Her bloody eyes bulge. The edges of her mouth twist upward, baring her teeth. I choose to interpret it as a smile.

This, I can work with.




Pherios

The castle on Paistellus is the second highest point in the city. From here, you can see the surrounding mountains and badlands, the plains to the north, and the Black Gorge to the south. The land looks just like it did the first time I saw it, when I was a boy. It's not. Nothing's the same. Everything has changed.

Yesterday I was summoned before the Konella Koreia. I never thought I'd see them when I was so young. Someday, sure. Our House often sits on the council. Belletennares does right now. But I thought I'd be a few hundred years older before I had the chance to serve.

I was nervous, and excited, but I told them my dream, answered their questions, and offered my service to them.

"Vanheim accepts your service, Pherios of Alteion," their leader said. "This is what we require: Vethru has sent for you. Our orders to you are to serve him."

Later I learned that the Konella Koreia gave Vethru its approval to rule over Vanheim. But right then, they escorted me on wobbly knees to a library in the castle to meet Vethru.

I had been there when he arrived, of course. Belletennares had rushed us to Vanheim just in time for that. I didn't get a good look at him, on that dark night. Now, in person, Vethru was a paradox. He sat at a table with a pile of books in front of him, just a small, gray-faced old man, yet he radiated power like the greatest of Vanjarls. His violet eyes were clear and piercing.

"So you're the one who foresaw my arrival," he said.

"Yes, sir," I said. There was a gull standing on the table. It walked a few steps forward and tipped its head toward me.

"Have you seen anything more?" he asked. He seemed kind. His voice was grandfatherly, and he was almost smiling. "I'd pay well for accurate predictions of the future."

"Well...I see things, but I can't always tell what it means. I mean, I may see something that eventually might happen, but I can't always figure out the symbols until after. I may not even know the people involved until later, when I've heard what happened." The bird was definitely watching me. Birds are usually twitchy. Their heads always jerk from one side to another. This gull was staring right at me. "I could describe exactly what I see. Which may mean nothing. That's the best I can promise. And I don't need to be paid. I serve Vanheim. That's all the payment I need."

He laughed. "An honest seer! That's something I haven't seen in a long time." Then he studied me. I couldn't look away from his eyes. It seemed like he could see into my soul, and I was afraid of what he'd find--a Van too young to know what nonsense he was wasting a god's time with.

But then he did smile, a real smile. "I need your eyes," he said. And with that, he made me head of the seers. Which right now is only me, but he says there will be more. It's my job to watch the skies and record what I see. I'll get to look at all the reports of the armies and their scouts and spies, so I can recognize the significance of what I'm seeing.

"And keep studying magic," he said. "We've got a lot to do. I'll need you even more later."

So now I study magic and theology in the mornings, and I read reports and orders in the afternoon. In the evenings, I study more, or I train with the spear and the javelin with my uncle and my cousins, until I'm ready to fall asleep in the saddle.

In the moments in between, I come up to the high places and watch the skies. Everywhere I look, I see things. The spring skies are turbulent. The gulls are everywhere, chasing away the other birds. The winds sculpt the clouds into shapes that twists and battle in the air. I write it all down in my notebook.

Today, from my turret high in the castle, I saw someone on the slopes of Triastellus, someone who, like me, was watching the sunset. She was sketching the shifting columns of red and purple clouds. Now and then, she would gather her papers and fly to another spot for a better view. I wondered who this Valkyrie was. I waved to her, to try to get her attention, but she didn't see me.

I had been watching her for half an hour when birds began to flock around her. She didn't seem to notice. Gulls circled, and I caught flashes of a white bird, and a black one. They formed a maelstrom around her, then, moments later, I couldn't see her or the birds in the gathering twilight.

That night, I dreamed it again. Now she was a snowy egret flying with a flock of gulls and a few ravens. They flew far and wide across the countryside, often diving toward the ground, only to regain the sky and fly to another spot. Dark clouds gathered overhead. Lightning started to flash. The birds continued their search, I don’t know for what. The clouds billowed and the wind roared, but the bird flew on, ignoring the storm chasing them across the land. Then I woke.

She was in danger. I had to find her.