Curiosity over the strangely written scroll had burned its way into my heart. I pored over it, thinking on the precepts that it put forth, and trying to understand the concept that all souls may be equal.
I had questions.
So many questions.
Just having them was new to me. I had never considered belief too closely, since no one had ever before required me to do so. The existence of Shar went without saying- and I found that I truly thought she would exist whether I or anyone else actively worshiped her or not- but the reality of any other god at all, much less a being who wielded power over death, fate and winter specifically, had simply never occurred to me. Each day I tried to read more about the Raven Queen, and each night I heard the shimmering sound of the chains, pouring like water in some distant place.
"It was written in an obscure form of High Elven, I'm told," Aric answered, looking into his burning hearth. "I guarded it, as other Shepherds had before me, unable to understand it, but a few Eladrin sisters and brothers at last pried it from my fingers long enough to render this translation. It turns out that the dialect was wholly unfamiliar to all of them, which is extremely unusual. While there are many dialects of their tongue, there are none so obscure that other Eladrin and Elves cannot completely understand it. Or, at least there had not been, before."
"What would an Eladrin be doing in the Shadowfell at all?" I asked, kneeling before his desk with my eyes steadfastly gazing upon his back. Once I'd finally learned that everyone here preferred me to look at them, I got about the business of training myself to do it.
"The Shadowfell, which you may still call the Plane of Shadow, is vast, my daughter," Aric sighed, turning slightly to look over his shoulder at me. "It is an echo of this plane- a much bleaker one than the Feywild. The Eladrin are known for their deep study of other cultures- it is no doubt that when the Plane expanded, they were among the first non-Netherese to dive right in, as it were. Also, the Spellplague had terrible, time and space-warping ramifications, beyond that which we know, or probably can even conceive. Whole villages, towns, nations were sucked into Shar's new domain as a result of magic gone terribly wrong. And at last, there were some who lived around the Death Gates that had always been on the Plane of Shadow, and were even there to meet Shar, when she arrived. We may never know their story, for as I hear it, they find it useless to speak to we who live on this plane."
"That's terrible," I mused, more to myself than to Aric.
"Why?" Aric said, instantly pouncing on my thought. "We pass through the Gates so unwillingly; flailing, screaming, fighting our fate. We are unreasonable."
"But surely some of us would listen, if they would speak," I replied.
"But why should they entertain such inferior creatures?" Aric prodded again, turning all the way around and crossing his arms, allowing more of his natural voice to fill the room. It sounded like the clap of judgement, and sent a thrill of apprehension through me.
"Not all of us are made inferior," I insisted, reaching out my own arms.
"You beg me on someone else's behalf, I sense it. Why do you plead for every soul but your own, daughter?" Aric walked around his desk and reached out his hand to me. "Come, let us walk from this place. For many, the catacombs are just the place to meditate, away from the crash of daily hustle and bustle. But perhaps you have been underground and in the dark long enough."
I took his hand gingerly and stood, bowing slightly when he moved my hand forward to indicate that he wished me to exit his study first. We walked together through the halls and up the ascending path out of the place, and had quite nearly walked past Quilafae's post in silence until the shimmering sound of the chains caught my attention. I stopped immediately and turned back over my shoulder, looking for the source of the sound.
"Yes, daughter?" Aric asked, seeming somewhat startled by my sudden movement.
"Did you hear something?" I asked meekly, not wanting to bother him any further.
"I have not heard anything out of the ordinary," Aric replied. "But that does not mean that there is nothing to hear. What caught your attention?"
"I- heard metal," I admitted very quietly. "I have heard it here before."
Aric turned to walk back down the hall toward me. "What type of metal? Perhaps I have at last grown used to the warriors' sword games."
"No, no sword made the sound," I breathed, now very embarrassed. "It was- more like chains. I've heard them in the night, as well."
"Well, before I ask Svaentok a few unreasonable questions, let us try the most logical place to have heard chains," Aric stated, passing me and turning down a corridor whose path was unlit. "We do have among us one fighter who tends to work at hours that we do not prefer. He separates himself from us, but we do our best to accept his presence where we can."
The path downward was untouched by burial spaces, but seemed well kept. Aric opened his hand and allowed a light cantrip to guide us, and it served to illuminate the various carvings on the walls. I was particularly captivated by one isolated scene in which an apparently young woman knelt alone, covering her face, either merely haunted or tortured by spirits whose jaws opened wide- perhaps to devour her, or to scream.
"He was once a more prolific artist, and had carved the story of the Raven Queen into the walls here, for those who cannot read," Aric offered after I slowed down to look more closely at a few other scenes. "I admit, I had not thought of such a problem. I have never met any grown adult who could not at least make out their name and the laws posted on the tavern doors."
I said nothing, thinking of Mi'ishaen's inability to read any of the languages that came so easily to Bahlzair and I.
At the end of the pitch black corridor stood a cavern with four candles at the entrance. Aric stepped into the cavern first, then opened his hand to invite me inside. And there, sitting in a chair on the other side of the cavern, sat a pale-skinned, gaunt featured male. He was blindfolded, and was sitting with his head bowed and his hands calmly resting on his thighs, until we came in. He then slouched in his chair and crossed his arms like a defiant ruffian.
"And what brings the hare into the wolf's den today, eh, Aric? Come to say a prayer, or to get away from your suckling children?" With a sniff, however, the male sat up and smiled. "No, you've brought one of them with you. Female. Chilled- very nice."
"This is Vhalan," Aric smirked, apparently taking the male's words as a joke. "I am with you; please try not to fear him."
"No, indeed, let fear overtake your heart," Vhalan growled in an inhuman tone. "I'd quite like to smell it- been so long since I've had visitors."
Aric stood back with a small nod, so I moved forward slowly. As I did, I noticed a neatly coiled spiked chain about a yard away from the chair in which Vhalan sat. I looked back toward Aric, unwilling to form the question myself.
"Were you fighting, or practicing recently?" Aric asked calmly.
Vhalan stood up, proving to be a head taller than I was. His movement startled me and stopped me in my tracks. "Closer," he beckoned. "I won't bite- yet."
Again Aric allowed more of his natural tone of voice to shine through the reediness, lending a palpable weight to his words. "Vhalan, she is not one of us. Control yourself, and answer the question."
"It's not me that brought her in here, Aric," Vhalan hissed. I got a glimpse of his fangs and caught my breath, much to his delight. He continued moving slowly forward, as though he would take me in his arms like a lover. "Ah, there it is- from you, it is not- pungent. It's- lighter, sweeter. Alluring. Your cowardice is- attractive- it begs for someone to take care of you- or perhaps just take you-"
"Vhalan!" Aric demanded, his voice reverberating and filling the cavern. Although he wasn't speaking to me, I felt the almost irresistible urge to kneel.
"I was not; I have not moved that weapon in at least a fortnight," Vhalan answered at last, backing away from me and sitting down heavily. "Your Queen sends her familiar after me, to flap its wings in my face and claw me when I try. I have neither practiced nor hunted in that time, but you press my patience- we had an agreement. Delay much longer, and your acolytes will belong to me."
"You are not a common, wicked thing, Vhalan. There's little reason for either of our ravens to get upset with you other than divine direction," Aric reasoned. "And in the meanwhile, you can avail yourself here."
"What can be wicked about honouring a contract? We had an understanding, and it is being stretched to its limit," Vhalan insisted. "You are old, Aric, and I have fasted too many nights-"
"My lord only wishes to save his acolytes, of course," I interjected, nearing Vhalan's chair. "If they may be spared, I will follow you."
"How interesting," Vhalan smiled, his fangs now clearly seen. "Come, lamb, let me behold you."
"No, child," Aric commanded, the full force of his voice staying my feet like an anchor. "I appreciate, and indeed applaud, your desire to help, but you will find yourself held to a contract that you know little about. Vhalan has suffered much, and is not always himself, but fear not; I do not shirk my duty to anyone in this place. I ask you please to turn away from him now."
"Go, then. But you will return," Vhalan purred, crossing his arms and leaning back. "You must. It's in your nature to obey, and while Aric may ask you politely, I gave you a command."
And although the chain clearly sat still, I heard again the sound of it moving. Confused and more than a little frightened, I turned and hurried back to Aric, who took me under one arm and began walking back toward the surface.
"You've begun to change," he counseled as we walked. "Part of this journey you had already started before you came here, but hopefully you will be able to take a few more tentative steps with us. You ask me of the Raven Queen's pilgrimage across the Shadowfell- how no one of your ancient leaders saw it. I tell you this: even now, you are also on a pilgrimage. You are travelling between the docile slave that you were and the wise young woman that you will be. Very few will see this path. Few will appreciate how difficult it may be. But go forward, like the Queen."
When we came to the entrance, Aric released me and folded his arms into the sleeves of his robe. "Your concern for others is, I sense, more natural to you than you may believe. You hold within you a unique ability to desire the best for every creature, be they evil or good. I ask you this: go. Ponder the Queen's first few moments away from Nerull- when she had received his power, but not yet the full understanding of herself, or of freedom. Open your spirit; question all things. Yet, if you will do nothing, let your stillness be your own choice."
I curtsied deeply, allowing my knees to almost sink to the ground in deference. I was in such awe of Aric, and his calm wisdom, that I thought I would burst with it. But he only leaned forward to kiss the top of my head, like a father, and turned back into the path to the catacombs. For a few minutes, I was not sure where to go. The sun was high and brilliant, chasing almost every shadow into hiding.
I sat down, pulled out the scroll and began reading the passage that concerned the Raven Queen leaving Carceri for the first time since she had been promised to Nerull. Previously, she had been a mortal sorceress so strong that she took within herself the spirit energy of all the tortured souls who wished to be free of Nerull's horrible experiments and tortures, and then used that energy to destroy the god himself. But the moment she destroyed Nerull, according to the scroll, she died and was reborn in his power, prompting the other gods to blot her natural name from memory, exile her from their territories, and revoke her power over deceased souls. For a few unspeakably awful years, the evolving demi-goddess remained, alone, in the territory of her former master, surrounded by terrified spirits that she could no longer control as they were whisked this way and that by other deities.
I found myself wondering why the other gods barred her from the souls she worked desperately to spare, when they did not lift a finger to throw down the oppressor whose actions had provoked her to kill him. Could the gods who others agreed were "good" be truly good, if they allowed Nerull to go on mistreating the spirits in his dominion the way he did? Could not the evil gods, whom one would expect to turn a blind eye to such cruelty, be called good for preventing the Raven Queen from sliding into Nerull's path by stripping the potentially tempting opportunity away from her?
But it seemed that the Raven Queen accepted the commands of the older immortals with calm dignity, if not joy. She gained control over fate when she helped Corellon Larethian to tear it away from Lolth. The Queen also demanded charge of one of the most soundly cursed seasons in anyone's calendar- winter- after she worked harder than any immortal to put down another goddess who had tried to rule over the natural world by freezing it. Perhaps it was because she had taken on these powers, these cast-off charges that no other deity would tolerate, that even Shar herself turned her back and allowed this nameless goddess to make a home for herself in the plane that was originally created solely to kill a rival. While Shar wasn't particularly cherished as a "good" goddess, she was the only one apparently content to share her plane with the outcast Queen. True cruelty, it seemed to me, rested squarely in the hands of those gods who called themselves good while either ignoring or causing the suffering of others- even those who had helped and served them.
Noonday wore into twilight before I could tear my eyes away from the scroll, but when I did, I found a dry notch in the leaf-less tree from which Bahlzair had once thrown a stone at me. Tearing a patch from my dress and wrapping the scroll in it, I left it safely hidden. Beyond me, I could hear the distant cries of the birds and the crashing of waves- drawn somehow to the sound of the water, I walked toward it. The simplicity of following the sound to the open coast was delightful- the dirt beneath my feet became more like clay after some time, then at last resorted to being warm sand. The air hung heavy with a saltwater scent, and while there were a few boats that indicated that fishermen ought to be working somewhere nearby, there was not a body to be seen. The water met the sand, and their love affair stretched on into an unmarred eternity, bringing an unexplained peace to me as the water pulled back, then returned in low, relatively consistent waves. I walked right up, feeling the damp, thick sand and the water rushing over my feet. Deciding that it would do me good to feel the rushing water all over me, I pulled the green make-shift frock off, balled it up and threw it as far away from the water as I could. I sat for a few moments, watching the rising moon kiss my shoulders and my bare chest, then got up again and walked until the water was just high enough to touch the bottom of my breasts. I ducked down a few times, getting all my hair wet and trying to rinse any grime out of it. Unhurried by anyone who needed to go anywhere or do anything, I found I could spend as long as I wanted- and I wound up diving and playing in the water like a little girl. Truly this is freedom, I thought.
I swam around and tested the tide for some time before my water-clogged ears caught the sound of a clutch of angry people. I pulled my hair back and shook some of the water out of my ears, turning to catch sight of five males and a large sack that was moving and jerking frantically. I could sense that the males were intending to kill whatever was in the sack, and also that the creature in the sack was absolutely pure of intention, like a small child or animal.
I thought briefly of my sisters, who had been separated and violated, one after the other, while my mother and her friend were forced to tearfully watch, unable to get away from the attackers' minions.
I ran right out of the water and over to the males, who stopped fighting the creature in the sack for a few moments to look at me. It seemed they were all either Human or mostly so.
"By the gods, a Netherese witch," one of them breathed stupidly, backing away from me as though I had been inflicted with an obvious and grotesque disease. I remembered, at that moment, that I hadn't stopped to find my dress. Humans all seemed much more particular about their nakedness than most other cultures.
"Not at all," I counseled, finding that my voice would only come very quietly. "I did not swear loyalty to Shade. What is it, in this sack here?"
"You ought to know, witch," another male replied, his face bent into an ugly snarl. " 'Tis such as you keep 'em around. What've you, come to claim him?"
"I own nothing, my lord," I soothed. "Is it a child?"
The male spat at me furiously. "I'm not such as you, that would give a child over to the sea! No! 'Tis a familiar, you hag, and when we're through pushing off this acursed beast, we'll take hold of you and have done with another!" The other males shouted their agreement with this as they began to fight to hoist the animal above their shoulders again.
"I tell you the truth: this creature is honest, and pure," I argued. "What has it done, that it deserves to die?"
"Sure!" the first Human guffawed. "The Netherese tells us what's honest, yeah? What's pure, yeah? There's not a honest bone in your body, you siren-hag. Where did this thing come from, but out of a witch's house? They've got a society, they do, a clutch. They defend each other's familiars, that's what."
They all pushed past me, two of them dragging the sack behind them toward the water. Knocked to the ground, I quickly rolled over, bit my lips and hit the sand with my fists to push myself to my feet.
Surprisingly, all four males stumbled instantly, their voices drying up in their throats as though they had turned to stone. The sack was also miraculously still, and I, concerned, got to my feet and wrested the thing open. Inside lay a dog, looking back at me with large, confused eyes.
"Come on, little brother, let's go," I whispered. "Let's get out of here before-"
The dog cut me off by leaping out of the sack and knocking me over again. At first, he seemed unsteady, but as the men began rubbing their heads and commenting on a deafening roar that I hadn't heard, the dog ran off a few paces, ducked down into a menacing pose and began growling. I rolled out from between the males and got to my feet, intending to simply run back toward my dress, which was tumbling toward the water in the breeze.
"Catch the Netherese!" came the cry from behind me. "Stone her! Stone the witch!" At that shout, a few people farther up the land toward the town took up whatever rocks they could find and began to throw them at me. I shrieked, trying to turn my back to them, and the males who had been running after me were able to catch up with me. The stoning stopped, presumably because people realized that they probably would not hit just me if they continued, so I stood up and prepared to defend myself. None of them seemed to have weapons, so I hoped to simply confuse them and send them away. While it wasn't difficult to dodge their lumbering attacks, it became dangerous when they were joined by a two more males who had brought boning and skinning knives. One of them had caught me in a jump and forced me to the ground when a flash of fur shot over my head. I sat up on my elbows and saw that the dog had returned, and had gotten a killing lock on the Human male who'd been ready to slit my throat. The other males stopped surrounding me and began to run after the dog, but one of them was caught by what at first seemed like a silver snake. So fast did this creature move that it took me some time to realize that it was not an animal itself, but was a gleaming spiked chain, commanded by a surprisingly lithe, white-skinned male.
Vhalan.
Just the thought of those fangs shot me to my feet, but it was already too late. The dog sat close to the water line, atop a torn shirt, watching Vhalan try to keep two of the men still with his chain. He barked, drawing Vhalan's eventual attention, which then turned to me. Vhalan smiled grimly to show his fangs, and I noticed that his cheeks did not seem as hollow as they had when I'd first seen him.
"Funny, isn't it?" he said quietly, his breath coming in pants. "Save the dog from them. Spare their lives when they attack you. Only to have to save them from me. That's what you're coming to do, isn't it, with all your beautiful flesh exposed for the world to see. That dress? I threw it in the water as soon as I saw it, just for this. I should let them go and feed from you- drain you until you are mine."
I said nothing, but knelt down in the sand and lowered my eyes. The dog got up and trotted over to me, and I realized at last that he was much larger than I'd thought. Wide red tattoos swirled from his flanks up to the center of his back, where they formed a complicated knotwork pattern. He pushed his foul-smelling face into mine, sniffing at me and nuzzling under me.
"And now the slave is an owner," Vhalan sighed with a note of wistfulness. After he'd gotten up and dusted some sand off his clothing, he laid a few good kicks into the one man who was conscious. "Get up, run. Don't even think about that knife, leave your friend to me, and don't breathe a word about the girl or the hound. They're mine, and you attacked them; call the guard, and I'll see you in court." The fortunate escapee got to his feet dizzily and moved off with a confused shuffle, not seeming to have full control of his body yet. The dog- or hound, I supposed- turned to notice them for a few seconds, then sat down and leaned on my lap.
"Thank you, little brother," I whispered to him. "Those men would have-"
"Done nothing more to you than I'm capable of," Vhalan laughed. "Make no mistake about it, I'll have you, in every way you can think of- and probably some ways you can't." He strode over and traced my right shoulder with one pale finger. "You move well. I stood for some time before I felt I ought to chase the little snots off my quarry. And, to your animal's credit, it was damned difficult to hold him back."
"He doesn't belong to me," I began tenuously.
"Oh no?" Vhalan retorted, sitting down in the sand next to me and watching the hound whine for my full attention. "I think he has a different idea of the situation. What's his name?"
As though he'd understood, the hound turned and put as much of his upper body on my lap as would fit, pushing his face up into mine for either a nuzzle or a kiss. I put my forehead against his, trying to acclimatize myself to his horrible breath.
"I can't give you a naming tattoo, but it looks like someone has already marked you for battle or war," I murmured to him. He panted and squirmed, whining slightly. "But, if you want to stay with me, I'll call you Niku- first born."
"Why?" Vhalan asked, reaching over to scratch Niku behind the ears. "Shouldn't you save such a name for your actual children?"
"My lord will forgive me if I tell him that my reasons are my own, will he not?" I asked, scrunching up slightly and turning my head so that Niku's head was between myself and Vhalan.
"So he will," Vhalan replied with a note of admiration. "And it is amazing how you give off a scent of cowardice while committing what is, for you, an act of bravery. One day, my little morsel, one day soon, I will introduce you to true fear. That which you've known before, under the hands of such as Svaentok- it will pale in comparison." He got up to return to his one remaining host, but I caught the edge of his battered cloak.
"Why is it that when the chain moves in your hands, I do not hear it?" I asked, looking up into his faded red-brown eyes.
"First of all," he sighed, turning sharply away from me, "know better than to meet my gaze. Your pure faith in me is- tempting. I always enjoyed simple, forgiving, loving women, even when I was alive. Made it unduly difficult to be a cleric. Too many faithful, open-hearted women- so genuine, so defenceless, so easily enthralled-"
" 'Was alive?' " I asked stupidly, completely confused.
"Your understanding of what I am is incomplete," Vhalan laughed gently. "Fear without understanding is foolishness. I know leaving is the hardest part, but you ought to let me go. Unless you intend to attempt to deny me a meal, in which case I will require you to replace it."
I let go, dropped my gaze and put my hands in my lap, leaving Niku to nuzzle against me in an attempt to regain my attention.
"In all things, my master seems reasonable. He has a weapon, and is covered. Yet, if he thinks it fair to fight me, unarmed and naked, then I am for him."
Vhalan glanced back at me quickly, then walked away. "Allow me to educate you concerning what precisely you are challenging, sweet lamb." He sat down and pulled the Human who was entangled and partially impaled on his spiked chain toward him. The male, now somewhat conscious, began to panic and struggle, but to no avail. Vhalan wrapped his hand in the male's hair, pulled his head to one side, bared his fangs and sunk them directly into the side of his host's neck.
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