A Self-sufficient Execution (Callisto)

[Panna Cotta]

"She did now, didn't she?" A slight hint of malice and disbelief. "Yes, please, do not touch my corpses." With great care, Bannarche examined the dead body, gave one knowing glance at the tattoo and brushed his beard with his thumb. His face was greatly animated for a Nuit. He lifted one of his brows.

"These are the crew of a ship that once was. I believe it was called Baradbal, but the current seafaring vessel that goes by the same name does not even come close to the grandiosity of what the ship actually was I'd say 30, more or less, years ago. It was a rare ship, fitted with outrageous fixtures. It was," And he turned to Callisto with a flourish, "a summoning ship."

Bannarche laid the woman onto its own table and patted it with his fingers. He made a show of thinking, holding his face with a hand while tapping his nose with his forefinger. Then another extravagant expression, "Ah!" With a finger raised, as if a lightbulb lit his head. He eyed Callisto and said, "Curious is it not? A world within a world. You see, apprentice, our world is not the only planet in the galaxy. There exists hundreds of thousands of known and unknown planets out there." He waved an arm up above him, sweeping at the sky, "And we know but a few. Those that we do, we study. We look upon them as if they were a reflection of the Ukalas. No, beyond the Ukalas. Much much more than the whole Pantheon. Sentient creatures living in planets that are unlike Mizahar," His tone rose excitedly, "World of curious elements. Planets as hospitable as Mizahar." He cleared his throat, voice lowering with suspense. He revealed, "Treasure!" There was a happy glint in his eyes, the spark of somebody who still had something worth living for.

"I knew the father of Baradbal's current captain, and the man who owned it before him. They are a generation of magic users, except Jack, who is a dud, doesn't even have a single sailor bone in his body. These are the crew of the man before him, a great man, that fella. Pity he died out there." His tone suggested that Captain Jack Baradbal's father died elsewhere than Mizahar. "In pursuit of Treasure. With a capital T." With great pomp he walked to the center of the room. Bannarche curved his shoulders and closed his arms, then waggled his sprayed fingers outward, stretching out his arms into full span. "These are the clues I need. All sixteen of Baradbal's crew, found in the icy planet Sosiaden, dead." He pointed corpses one hand after another, "One and Two, siblings, twins, 3rd and 4th. Three, best summoner among all of them, 1st. Four, married to Five, daughters are Six," he pointed to the corpse Callisto fiddled with and, "Seven. 6th, 11th, 14th and 10th, respectively." Bannarche stepped towards the body of an old man, "Eight and Nine, brothers, follows one after another in the arrangement. The orphans, Ten, Eleven, and Twelve, follows one after another in the descending order. Thirteen, his own number. Fourteen, always second best, next in line to the 1st. Fifteen comes before the husband and Sixteen comes after the wife."

He clapped his hands and gave Callisto a look that said, 'You wanted me to show you my research, right?'. "I have just finished figuring out the proper order of things, and now I must figure out the magical number that will open the gates beyond Sosiaden. You will help me, yes?" Without waiting for an answer, he continued, "I need sixteen numbers, and the answer is in these corpses. The summoner," he pointed to the man whose designation was 1st, "is followed by Fourteen. They both possess the same tattoo, in Nader Canoch it means 'one'. The number progression," he lowered his tone, "if you manage to sort out their arrangement, is quite peculiar." Back to his enthusiastic voice, "The next number should be found on one of the twins, but instead we get this tattoo that says, 'what do you get when you add 1 and 2' and on the other twin, 'what do you get when you add 2 and 3'. You can guess, but it continues on, 3 and 4, 4 and 5... you get the drift?" He shrugged, "It suggests that the person's number is the sum of the two before him, or her. Notice, however, that by the time you get to the orphans, the equivalent number will have two digits. A clue, found on Twelve's wrist." He walked towards the orphan and pointed at the string of tattooed symbols, "1 + 3 = 4" Bannarche read out loud and said, "Now what does that tell you?"

While Callisto figured out the ultimate math problem of her current lifetime, Bannarche continued with the crew's story, "All of them, they have been my apprentices one time and another. They have helped me locate Sosiamus, a place colder than the wastes of Avanthal. And there they have located the trail left behind by Holgrenher Baradbal, treasure hunter." He nodded, "Sounds weird, and it was. Holgrenher was the grandfather of the grandfather of the grandfather of..." He stopped, "Let's just say he was ancient, about ten generations up the family tree. Known for digging graves when everybody didn't want to go out of their houses. Brave man, he was. He was not the typical treasure hunter so many humans claim to be these days. No, he was a treasure hunter for the sake of treasure hunting. One of his life's quests was to run after the artifacts of Areesa Tallshade. In those days? Pfft, who wasn't running after treasure? But then he was great in the sense that he knew what artifacts he should run after, where to find them, and eventually, when he got bored running around the wastelands of the Valterrian, where to hide them. These secrets he passed down his heirs, blind fools who, instead of keeping the priceless magecrafted items, resolved instead to make a fortune out of their great grandfather's booty. Some of those items ended up here in Sahova. Eventually," he cleared his throat, "I became curious how the Baradbal brothers keep on stumbling on artifacts that have long since - literally - disappeared from the face of Mizahar."

"The answer is pretty simple. I guess even you could figure that out by now?"

[Callisto]

Callisto nodded at Bannarche’s suspicion-laced response to what she’d relayed to him. The Ethaefal didn’t seem to mind, as she merely shrugged his odd demeanor aside and focused on what he had to see, and indeed, this strange Nuit had quite a lot to see. It enraptured her, fascinated her, even when most of what he said seemed to be beyond her understanding, after all, she could be considered a newborn Ethaefal, the knowledge of the world was limited to what she could find in the halls and libraries of Mura, but here she at least had a chance to get her feet wet with information she’d never thought possible.

“Fascinating,” She breathed at the mention of the worlds beyond even the Ukalas itself. His happy glint echoed in Callisto’s own citrine eyes as she followed his every, gesture, his every movement when he paced around the corpses, explaining more about Baradbal, both the crew and the ship. A summoning ship. She had heard of the art of summoning, of bringing back beings from another realm, and these corpses… they had come from such a ship? When he began motioning their location and their numbers, Callisto followed, keeping in mind who was what designated number in the back of her head. She approached when Bannarche began to speak about the numbers on the corpses, watching and listening as he explained the tattoos engraved on their skin. It was difficult for the Ethaefal to truly comprehend. She had not been exposed to mathematics nor the nature of Summoning, but she supposed she might as well attempt an answer, if only to understand herself.

She moved to the first summoner, checking his tattoo once more for what Bannarche determined was Nader-Canoch for 1. Why were both of them 1, she wondered. And truth be told, she had no sudden thoughts to it. Instead, Callisto moved to the first twin, what had he said? 1 and 2, 3, 2 and 3, 5, she moved to the corpse after the second twin, 3 and 4, 7, 4 and 5, 9, they were all odds, did that mean something to Bannarche? She pursed her lips, then continued to the 7th corpse, the orphan designated as 12. 1 plus 3, 4, it had broken the odd chain, but perhaps even and odds were of no real importance here? She decided to state it anyway, “Forgive me for my lack of knowledge in this subject, but all I could have really garnered was that it went from odd to even with the sudden transition, assuming the rest of the corpses followed the even pattern. Other than that, I honestly can not say.”

She fell silent when he continued the story, one name sparked her interest, however. “Who is Areesa Tallshade?” Then when Bannarche paused and asked her another question, Callisto thought for a moment. He had mentioned a Summoning ship, the tattoos of numbers on the corpses, and inexplicable means of finding lost Treasure, with a capital T. “I assume they used the summoning ship? Perhaps summoned a portal large enough to take the entire ship with these coordinates? They are coordinates, correct? Or maybe that is possible with Voiding, but then, I have no experience with such magic, so I apologize for my ignorance.”

[Panna Cotta]

Bannache waved her off, eyeing her like she was an imbecile. Then his eyes mellowed, staring at her fondly. What attracted him to her was that this was a potential audience. Living a monotonous life for more than 500 years would make anybody welcome a change in company. And so he put on a show. Bannache was getting a little rusty with his theatrical skills, but for the most part his performance was passable. He used the room where Callisto was in and narrated the story of Areesa Tallshade. "She was very, very beautiful," an admirer, that he was, "so virginal in her white robes." Mimicking a woman, he skipped and hopped about the room, demonstrating a person who supervised a few apprentices, "her name was unrivaled when it came to Magecrafting." He motioned his hands and moved his upper body as if he was working on a magical circle and said, "She was able to produce many, many powerful objects, magical shiny items that endow power to those who wield it." Bannache then bowed fervently and kneeled, "at times she would offer them to customers who are willing to pay," an enactment of receiving something heavy and carrying it around, "Power that consumes the person who owns it." His hands in the air grasping something unreachable. "Fame and fortune to those who use them." A little too dramatic and expressive for a Nuit. "Wealth, wealth unlike any material wealth that one can possess. Treasure, most of them too wicked and too dangerous. And we all wish to find them."

He slowly tipped his head and gave a deeply sorrowful bow. "But alas, the search for these magical shiny things come with a price." He swung his arm to the sixteen bodies in the room. "You may pay for it with your life, but never really gain anything in exchange. A bit unfair if I may add, but that is the life of a treasure hunter. And then there are those who will be willing to carry the torch," his voice rising, persuasive and aggressive, "those who will be willing to go through the bowels of worlds and worlds beyond to find that which was lost, lost but never ever forgotten."

"Archives tell of a small group of people, scavengers to some, thieves to many. But they were treasure hunters, bonafide archaeologists who knew what they were doing. They were unnamed, insignificant, as Tallshade might have wanted them to be. Business for business sake, that woman. Sometimes she gets rid of things - through who-knows-what-means. This particular unnamed group got rid of some of her stuff alright. Gone from Mizahar, hidden somewhere else in the universe."

"You are an Ethaefal, an agent of Syna in this world. I suspect that our meeting is..." a grandeur pose and a charming - by Nuit standards - smile, "Destiny. Something led you here, don't you think? Something of a greater calling, divine and ethereal in nature?" Bannarche asked Callisto, "You seem to be interested. I notice that you will never figure out the mathematics behind these corpse's tattoos, but I can see in your eyes the light." His voice became shaky, "The same light I have seen in her eyes so long, long ago." He was mourning now, or at least making a good show of it. He quickly crossed the room towards her, awkward and sluggish despite the seemingly urgency in his voice, "You are perfect for this... this adventure! Yes, yes, you are perfect."

"Your beauty is not fit for handling corpses, you must be out there, basking in the glory of forgotten history. Come on, pretty woman, tell me if the idea of finding something that was once lost does not appeal to you?"

[Callisto]

It was the air of theatrics that caught Callisto’s undivided attention. It was all she could do to wait and listen and revel in the imagery that Bannarche spun for her with his rather amusing and expressive movements - for a Nuit. Areesa Tallshade. “Ah, but why does that ring a bell,” She murmured softly. Wealth, power, fame. Does it not all relate? Oh, but many of such nature must have come before her, she only had the pleasure of dabbling in the art of magecraft!

And then there were the matter of these treasure hunters. Bannarche spoke of the untimely end for these humans, but Callisto felt no remorse. If it was her life Syna wished for the greater good, she would gladly relinquish it. But the prospect of power, of finding such artifacts of mystery and awe, even the Ethaefal felt the rapid increase of her heartbeat. Yes, yes, she wanted to know!

“I only seek the guidance of my Mother. If she bade me to do something she wished I would gladly do it. Destiny not so much as determination.” She smiled, “Your beautiful theatrics has me imagining how this woman lived. I am honored to help you find these lost artifacts. And history, yes… I do long for forgotten history.” More like she longed to know more of herself. “Shall we let Amaryllis know I will not be handling her corpses, then?”

[Panna Cotta]

"Inasmuch as would love to excuse your lovely hands from the dirty work you have gotten yourself into, unfortunately, I cannot. I am not in the position to hire apprentices, and I am not influential enough to convince Amaryllis to let me steal you." Bannarche made as if he was weeping, no doubt that he was still acting it out. "You need to follow as your schedule requires you to work, handling corpses by the time the first shipment comes." He paused and peered at the Ethaefal. "Until then, we could join our heads as we find the secret of Sosiamus, a place where Syna doesn't shine." There was a different look in his eyes, a malice that was not there before. Was Bannarche suffering from rhetoric, was he trying to lure Callisto in using his words?

A place where Syna doesn't shine.

"Go to the Great Library, as I have no need for you at the moment," He said it with an underlying tone that she proved to be useless, "And while you are there, you might as well read what you can about Areesa Tallshade. I have already taken the liberty of taking out every book in the library about Sosiamus, so do not bother on that subject" Was he hiding something?

He nodded, ending the discussion. Just about the time Callisto turned to walk away and do as she was bade, the Nuit spoke once more. "You know Callisto, you remind me of somebody who once rode Baradbal many many years ago." He reached out with one hand, eyes glazed with nostalgia, no, madness. As soon as he realized what he was doing, Bannarche quickly shook his head, "No, no. I apologize. I must be terribly mistaken." He looked away, extravagantly ashamed. It was hard to tell if he was being honest or not.

-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-

As Callisto arrived at the Great Library, she received static stares from all of the Nuit. This lasted for a few chimes, after which she was relieved of the undead gazes. It was almost harrowing, something about it made her skin crawl. But just as her heart was warmed by the fear, her soul was touched by a firm resolve. Maybe this was part of her destiny, an unfinished business that Syna wanted her to complete before she could return to her arms. Could it be possible?

The Ethaefal had to find the books on her own, the stupid Catalog Golems could not respond to her when she asked for her help. Her first clue that pointed her to the right direction was a rather large book about Magecrafting. The name Areesa Tallshade appeared on many pages - it was written after the White Enchantress' death. It was a list of some of the magecraft items of Tallshade, collected by a certain Riren, no last name ever mentioned. Perhaps it was luck that the Ethaefal found a certain beige book untitled, except for a sun with nine pointed rays. Maybe she was attracted by the drawing. As Callisto read on she noticed that there was a unifying characteristic among the magical items. Most, if not all of them, was glyphed with the Sun - she did not need Nader-Canoch to figure some of them out. Callisto's heart raced as she came across a short but meaningful paragraph about Riren:

Riren of the Lantern Bearers specifically requested Areesa Tallshade to design the Illumina. The item was lost even before the Valterrian but the Lantern Sisters believed that Riren's quest to become Syna's priestess may have been successful.

A short note was scribbled in - Callisto was shocked as she easily read the words - Kontinese. What astounded her was that the handwriting was so familiar. It was hers! Her body was flushed with nostalgia, and coldness crept up her skin.

She was escorted by a number of humans, diverse in culture. One of them was shouting at a Nuit. The Konti gracefully pacified the argument and as she spoke, a calm took over the party. The Nuit, a hunchback male with short bristly hair talked, perhaps arguing with everybody. A burly man, stocky but not fat, stood up, his back behind the Konti. He seem to be reasoning with the Nuit. He turned, and he smiled at her. The Konti stepped forward and ordered the Nuit to do something. At first he declined, until someone from the group stood and threatened him. They talked once more. It seemed that the burly man was the leader in the group, the Konti his advisor, the Nuit a partner in the agenda. The books came, and one by one they were handed to the Konti. On top of the pile was the beige book and the familiar crest.

Callisto collapsed on the floor after her vision, she felt weak and dizzy. Her eyes read the note twice:

We are sure that this piece, along with some others, have been hidden by the Lantern Sisters in another world where a great serpent has devoured the Sun. - Mana

[Callisto]

Callisto said nothing to Bannarche. She gave a curt nod when he suggested the Great Library, moderately intrigued but knowing she would not have much time to spend there once her duties in embalming began. She took what he said about her odd resemblance to someone he knew to heart, but it has come to her attention that certain nuits should not be trusted. This must have been what it felt like to tread in the land of the dead, where the faces were pale and sunken, and stared so absolutely into her very soul. She felt every one of their eyes, regardless of their opinion on her, and continued on. She often wondered if they considered such a life of solitude and silence a waste compared to their life before. Did they miss the warm blood, the feel of the wind through their hair and on their cheeks? Did they not miss the faces of loved ones? Perhaps some didn’t realize they were wearing the very skins of their descendants. But now was not the time to dwell on unnecessary thoughts. She continued past the useless Catalog Golems and perused the shelves. Several books had not caught the attention the beige book had, and she browsed the pages listlessly. Areesa Tallshade, Riren, magical artifacts glyphed with the Sun. What could it mean? Why did it not-- The words she read next indeed seemed to make her pause. Riren of the Lantern Bearers had become Syna’s priestess. Even in days of old her influence was strong. The Mother, she was with her! And then almost instantaneously she seemed to freeze. The vision came and went so rapidly, but she felt it crawl into her skin and remain there. The book, this book she held in her very hands. She had held it in days long past. She had been with humans…. Met with nuits. Why could she not have remembered this until now! Callisto raised herself up on shaky hands and held the book closely. She placed it back where she extracted it from and walked on unsteady legs back to her room. It was all becoming taxing on her psyche, the possibility of knowing her life before transcending. It made her heart beat faster and harder against her chest. But as Bannarche had suggested, she continued to work on her embalming during the times scheduled by the Master Amaryllis and would return to the Great Library when time allowed it, to look over the beige book that held a sliver of her life. Often, at the end, she read the scribbled note over and over, ingraining it into her mind and heart.