Closed Fits of mercy

[Karsynwa]

29th, Fall, 520 A.V.

Arrel was dead. The news came while he was reclining in the shade of an alcove enjoying a small midday snack. This Fall had been as unseasonably warm as the last so Karsynwa had stripped out of his leathers to cool off from he noon heat. When the two men appeared he reacted languidly. His movements relaxed as he sat up to study their approach.

Sitting in the alcove alone he remembered the stern set of their jaws. Dead eyes, and flat voices. Their armor stiff, polished to a sheen. He remembered wondering in a detached fashion if he could make out a reflection in the oiled leather. Then they were gone. Their obligations done, and with it their worries. He was ashamed to remember his reaction. Or rather, his lack of one. As he sat up stiffly, listening to their voices drone through the humid heat.

It had taken him a while to come back to himself. To crawl out from the pit he’d dug himself to hide from the others. Finaewa knew though, and was chiding him now. Gnawing at the edge of his mind. Karsynwa fought such intrusions by repeating the circumstances of Arrel’s death to himself. Over and over till the words lost all meaning. Till they were only a brief upswell of feeling that left a great hollowness inside of him. A void he longed to fill with something. Anything.

He died out scouting on the grass. It was an accident. A pair of glassbeaks. Should have been easily handled. Arrel’s hand slipped and one of them got past his guard. Gored him across the stomach. There was nothing they could do.

That was the disjointed story they had told him. A little broken thing, so full of holes it would have sunk to the bottom of the bay in less than a chime. He almost didn’t believe it. Almost wanted to run to the lodge to see for himself. To disprove this lie for what it was and lay eyes on the comforting visage of Arrel just one more time. Such an action would only make a fool of him so he resisted the impulse. Or maybe he resisted because he wanted to live in this realm of half truth for a while. No one would blame him for that, so close to the searing light of trauma.

It occurred to him then that he didn’t know if Arrel had a family to care for. He supposed he should find that out eventually but right now he didn’t feel like doing anything with anyone. Perhaps he would just work the rest of his shift and avoid others were he could. He still had some training to get to tonight, though that could be easily switched to a solo practice. That would be the healthier way to deal with everything. To give his mind time to adjust on its own without having to deal with anything unexpected from his compatriots. Better that then chance he make an ass of himself. Or worse, lose control.

WC - 509

[Karsynwa]

Eventually the movement of the sun pressed him into action. The brunt of the heat for the day was past and now it was time for him to resume his patrol. Strapping on his leather armor. Pulling on his weapon harness. It all felt stiff an awkward as his fingers fumbled with the straps. He was hyper aware of how the armor trapped the heat against his skin while his mind dwelt on where they might have taken Arrels body.

Karsynwa was still thinking about that when he left the confines of the park to make his way across the cliff face towards he land gate. For the first time in a long while it was an arduous journey. His steps were less than sure as he footed his way up the narrow path. When someone came from the other direction, he practically jerked out of the way to avoid touching him. As if touching someone at this point would ground him in the material and force him to face the churn that was brewing with every step. At last he realized that his world was far from stable now. The ground was treacherous and full of doubt. Everything about his life felt unsure now. From his job to the sanctity of his home.

The absurdity of it all was not lost on him. To lose his mentor to a glassbeak. To lose his squad leader to a mistake a young man on his first rite could make. It made him feel mortal. Small. Inconsequential. For he was far less prepared for this world than Arrel had been. Felt like he owed his position to the benefice of Arrel, and now that Arrel was gone what did that mean for him?

A surge of shame flooded him from within at the thought. He should be more careful with his thoughts. If that was even possible. How could he be worrying selfishly about himself when Arrel’s death was yet fresh. Gritting his teeth, he hooked his palms over his hips as he stood before the land gate. On the outside he was observing those who were filtering in, but he’d long since resigned his mind to wander.

It flitted between details, half caught sentences, smells, and what it felt like to stand there amidst that tangle of forms. An nothing was stored. Not a scrap of information. They all passed through his senses only to be lost within the churn. The churn that was gathering up steam with every passing moment, grinding away with a subtle pressure from within. His heart thudded in his chest. His mind wondered how they were ever going to get past this. Finaewa was there to remind him that they had been through worse, but Karsynwa didn’t know what he was talking about. Couldn’t know what his ever enigmatic brother was up to with his cloying words. Sweet little things that hid tiny little traps within.

WC - 490

[Karsynwa]

The rest of the day passed quickly and was devoid of color. When he finally got home, he practically sank into his bed. Neglecting to even eat dinner though he knew in his head he should. His sleep was far from dreamless. It was filled with blood and terror. Scenes from his time in Sunberth. Jeering men with long knives. Women screaming, crying from an ache he caused. An he didn’t have the words to defend himself. To defend why he acted the way he did. It was simple reaction. The natural course of things. As natural as a hunter killing a hare.

Karsynwa was jolted awake in the middle of the night by a distinct chill to the room. A chill not felt on a Fall night for a few years now. He shivered and pulled a sheet tight over him while he sat up in his bed. His foot shot out to the left before his eyes had the chance to properly register that there was someone standing beside his bed. As shocking as the abrupt appearance of the man was, it was even more so when his heel passed straight through his stomach.

A strange feeling washed over him as his foot passed through the apparition. A cold, wet crawling feeling as his foot passed through the cold mist. Karsynwa recoiled, backing away as quickly as he could, not realizing there wasn’t much bed left to back up onto. He realized it suddenly when his hand passed through empty air and he crashed onto his back, knocking the breath out of him.

His mind screamed at him to keep moving so he scrambled onto his elbows and knees through the pain. There was no noise from the other side of the bed which was distinctly off putting. Karsynwa felt possessed by a distinct fear because of that, his hands shaking as he grasped to pull his lakan out of his weapon harness.

“Karsynwa” Arrel’s voice intoned in a smoky whisper.

He froze and looked up, not willing to believe what his ears had just heard. They focused on the slightly smudged form of his former mentor. His first impression was that he was looking at a painting that was hovering just off the ground in front of him. It dried his throat out even as he tried to swallow past the fear that was running rampant within his breast. Arrel just continued to stare down at him. Hovering there with his image moving ever so slightly in the dim light of the apartment.

Slowly Karsynwa stood up. “Arrel? Why are you here?” He didn’t wait for a response, instead creeping his way past the immaterial form of his mentor to light a torch by his fireplace. It took several tries with his trembling hands but finally an orangish light filled the room. Turning back, he almost wished he hadn’t as he could clearly make out the smudged form of his former mentor. He could see wisps trailing from the man now even as his drawn out face seemed to elongate with every expression.

However that wasn’t the worst of it. There was a garish wound across the man’s midsection that ran from the base of his belly up to his sternum and his ethereal guts were starting to slightly spill out. Starting, but never doing so even as the man drifted forwards. There was an uneasy tension watching that spot on the man, as if the expectation of gravities demands not being met somehow was so much worse that a man he could see through.

“I..” Arrel’s voice trembled over that vowel, before he continued. “Something is not right. I should not have died.”

Karsynwa coughed, and his face screwed up into an incredulous expression. “What man thinks his death deserved” He said, feeling an unexpected twinge of anger as his tightened his fists.

The apparition shivered as Arrel’s face contorted into a grotesque grimace. “No. I was betrayed.” Intoned Arrel’s watery voice. Karsynwa’s blood ran cold at the thought as he ran his hand through his hair. “Betrayed?” He asked quietly.

Arrel nodded slowly as his form started to waver and become more faint. Karsynwa almost took some relief in that if part of him didn’t fear his mentor leaving now after dropping such an accusation.

“I was overcome by a sudden illness. Too sudden to have manifested out on the sea of grass.” Arrel continued before Karsynwa’s thoughts had time to wander. “My grip was weak when that glassbeak attacked me. I think I was poisoned.”

“By who?” Karsynwa pressed even as he backed away to take a seat. This was all a little to much for him to digest at this hour, and his head was swimming just from talking with Arrel again. His heart felt torn in four different directions.

“Don’t know or don’t remember. I.. I was not meant to straddle both worlds. My mind.. Is not the same.” His voice drifted into almost a whisper in parts forcing Karsynwa to lean forwards.

“I.. I think..” Arrel wavered for a moment and then darted through the wall. Startled, Karsynwa stood up from his chair so abruptly that it fell backwards to hit the stone floor with a loud metallic crack. “Arrel?” He asked in a tremulous voice, but his mentor was gone. Or at least wanted to make it seem like that was so. Leaving Karsynwa with more questions than he was equipped to answer and far to awake to go back to sleep. An the chill was gone interestingly enough.

Still the cold lingered on his skin, reminding him that it hadn’t all been a dream and prompting him to stand closer to the faint heat of the torch. The world washed out in the background as his field of view was dominated by the ruddy light for a time till Karsynwa finally drew away from it. Walking towards to window that overlooked the sea, Karsynwa resolved to do something about his mentor’s abrupt reappearance. Starting with formally paying his respects, which would require him to find out wherever they had taken Arrel.

WC - 1,022

[Karsynwa]

The lodge was a good place as any to start his journey. It was quiet, and the mood somber when he arrived. A few glanced up at him before promptly looking back down. Karsynwa shook his head slightly while he headed for the back. In Arrel’s quarters sat a man he did not know personally but recognized around the lodge. He hesitated in the doorway, standing stiffly at attention till the man acknowledged him with a gesture. Karsynwa closed the door behind him as he entered.

“I was wondering where I could go to pay respects to Arrel.” Karsywa said cautiously. The man did not look up from the parchment he was scrawling upon, but his left hand did brush upon a large wrought iron key that scraped against the wood of the table. “His body is being prepared below the lodge if you wish to go now. The stairway is by the main entryway. Bring the key back to me once you have finished.” He had a cool, crisp way of addressing the matter that gave Karsynwa the impression he was better off saying less. As quietly as he could manage, he retrieved the key from the table and moved to leave the room.

“Karsynwa right?” The man asked, looking up briefly. Hesitating by the entrance, Karsynwa nodded and with nothing further asked of him, he left the room to head below to where he would find Arrel. A dread filled him at the thought even as he forced himself down every step. He flinched at the loud clang of the doors lock sliding out of the way before opening to reveal a small room with a metal table.

Arrel’s body had been mostly seen to so far with only his hair remaining in an unkempt pool beside his head. Karsynwa took a cautious step forwards and immediately noticed the gash across the front of the man. It had been properly stitched up but his mind couldn’t help flashing back to what he had seen last night on Arrel’s apparition. The room abruptly became significantly colder. Remembering last night, Karsynwa looked tentatively around until Arrel appeared in a corner, still looking as painted on as he did last night. Perhaps even more so in the light of multiple torches.

“Did you find out anything.” Karsynwa asked hesitantly after it appeared that Arrel was not going to speak first. Still, Arrel did not respond. At least not immediately. Instead he levitated over to hover by his corpse for several ticks that felt like bells. Finally, he spoke. “Maybe I remember where I went before going out onto the grass, and that might be a good place to start.. But you can’t tell anyone of this” Arrel growled in a tone that almost vibrated and caused Karsynwa to unintentionally flinch.

“Why?” He asked reflexively.

“This is not how I saw myself passing. Lingering here like one of the weaker races. I would not have my memory tarnished. If you let it slip that I yet stay, I will haunt you out of spite.” Arrel said, leveling him with a cold stare. Karsynwa reeled back from the the surprising amount of vitriol in Arrel’s words. His tongue caught in his throat for a moment before he managed a nod.

“Okay, you have my word. I will tell no one.” Karsynwa said hastily. Arrel seemed satiated by his answer and mumbled something to himself before speaking to Karsynwa again. “The rat hole. You heard of it?”

Karsynwa shook his head. Arrel sighed. “That is where I went. Go there and find my answers.” An with that said, he departed much like he had the previous night. Flitting through the wall before Karsynwa could ask anything else of him. It was so unlike how his mentor was in life that he felt more unbalanced than ever. He steaded himself on the metal table and looked soberly down at his former mentor.

“How had things changed so fast?” He asked softly of the corpse, and then continued louder. “I will find out what I can.” Without so much of an idea as where to start, he left that room with a bit more steel in his stride than he had came down with. He had a name, and there was work to do.

WC - 718