Avarice Secret Unquiet CH 33

Seeds of darkness

A cheerful fire crackled in the large stone ringed hearth before them, there was food, ample cool water and even fresh goat's milk. The situation was exactly as Sven had described. Kario and Jhary had joined Aurianne, but there was mostly silence around the camp fire. The trio were still half afraid that Bennett and his cohorts would suddenly appear at any moment in ambush. Aurianne tried hard to let this wariness go. Yet she couldn't completely.

Sven could sense his visitor's tension, he knew that only time would ease their fears. He was simply enjoying his little brother's company. Family to him was everything. Even after the others had adjourned to their bedrolls, the two brothers continued to talk until late into the night. Lucy hovered close by to fill a cup if needed. These days sleep was not a happy place for her.

Aran poked at the bright coals and looked out at the starry sky. He was content to finally be home, and able to truly rest without any tension or fear. Though he was strong and capable, he now knew this world could chew anyone one up and spit them out. He had suffered much on his journey.

Of course Sven wished to know all that had happened to his brother on his long quest for redemption. As Aran in return wished to understand what had occurred here during his absence. The young warrior told his brother most of what had happened to him, but he omitted his enslavement from the story line. He found he could not bring himself to admit to anyone of his hopeless captivity, let alone at the hands of a woman. So he glossed over his telling of his tale. Svend, likewise, filled him in on the power play that had occurred, and of the discovery of the sarin gas missiles. Detailing the events that followed, leading to his injury. The conversation inevitably steered toward the subject of the future, as the early morning hours wore on.

"So what now?" Aran asked of his sibling.

"I think we will just stay here," Sven answered his brother's question. "I know my woman is angry with me and wishes to raise Eirik in the farmlands, but shit, I can't go there."

Aran nodded, "the only civilization I encountered that was worth a damn, was the Bridge. It's fucking big! It seems a darn sight bigger than it was when we were there years back."

"Yeah, it wasn't that big back then, but I guess it's grown."

There was a silence for a time. Aran had thought his brother may call it a night, but it appeared he had only been thinking.

"We could go there you know, if it is as you say, and begin again. I had not expected anyone to thrive in the South."

Aran looked up, he had not been expecting this statement from Sven. He had always been vehemently opposed to heading south. This had caught him by surprise. "Well er..." He stumbled, tripping on his tongue.

"What's wrong brother?"

"I can't go back."

Sven chuckled sardonically, "seems to be a recurring theme with you. Can't leave you anywhere unsupervised can I?"

"No, it's not that..."

"Then what?"

Aran was cornered, he had hoped to not broach this subject with anyone. But Sven was family, if he could not tell one so close, what did that mean? He fought with his conscience for long moments, as Sven watched his discomfort. The old soldier had seen its like before. He knew his little brother was wrestling with something profound.

Finally Aran took a deep breath, making sure the sleepless Lucy was not privy to what he was about to reveal, and hoisted up the hem of his pants, all the way to his broad thigh. There the livid red scar lay, the endless triangle of shame for all to see.

Sven just stared, the deep brand looked painful, but any further meaning was lost on him. He didn't know what to say so he said the obvious. "I bet that hurt."

Aran made eye contact with his sibling, hoping he could understand. "The world of 'civilized' men has changed brother." Aran's face bore a troubled scowl. "This mark makes it impossible for me to join it."

"In what way..." The elder man's voice trailed off as he at last began to comprehend. If he wanted to be brutally honest all the signs had been there from the outset. The haunted look in his brother's eyes, the leanness of his frame bespoke of deprivation. He felt stupid to have even had to ask.

"Ah, I see," he said, humbled, saving Aran from further torment of a more detailed explanation. "Then I guess we had better not tell Raissa about the Bridge."

Aran nodded as he pulled down his trouser hem.

"So where does that leave us?"

"I'm really not sure brother," Aran replied resignedly.

*****

The following day was bright and sun filled. Light white clouds smeared the upper heavens. The inhabitants of the camp were quiet, each glad of the respite such a sanctuary offered. Sven had overheard the others debating making the short journey east to the Stephan's farmlands. Aurianne was keen to catch up with Darius if he still lived, and Jhary had decided that perhaps he could ply his trade there at least for a time.

The soldier didn't care what they did. After what his brother had revealed last evening, his place was here. It was small and dull, but it was his. His little family could remain here, and as long as the well held they could eke out an existence for many years to come. Sven took up the shovel and hoe and picked up his giggling son, carrying him to the garden. The first tiny shoots of corn were emerging from the red sandy earth, and he didn't wish for them to be stifled by weeds.

He set young Eirik down on the earth nearby, and went about his methodical weeding of the rows. Noting that some thirty percent of the seed had failed to sprout. He had hoped it was still viable, corn was short this year, and with his brother's return they would need more. The morning was pleasant, he watched the archer climb the path presumably to check on the horses. He reminded himself that later he would show his guests the pathway down, so that they may bring the animals to the small valley to graze and drink. There was not an abundance of grazing here, but he expected their stay to be brief.

His young ever inquisitive son was examining the objects about him, sticks, pebbles, dried grass. Raissa would often be angry at her man when he took his son with him, and let him explore on the ground. The young boy often tasting whatever was in the vicinity. Sven thought it was good for the boy, sometimes mothers could be too over protective.

He was busy, engrossed in his task. He did look from time to time to check on his son. As he was weeding he felt the light touch of chubby fingers on his leg accompanied by a delighted squeal. He looked behind him and down to see his little boy with something clutched in his fist.

"What you got there lad?" Sven reached for his son's tightly closed hand, something iridescent was shining within. He pried open the boy's avaricious fingers, noticing at once the child's palm was discolored, and a brightly colored scarab beetle fell to the ground. It was large and hefty and it fell to the sand with an audible thud before continuing on its way. "I don't think you should have that matey." Lifting the boy to another place where he might resume to play.

He was going to look at the critter more closely when he heard Raissa's skirts rustling behind him. He turned to see her, hands on her hips in an attitude of disapproval. She snatched Eirik up, gave Sven a wordless reprimand and stormed back to the cave.

*****

Kario and Aurianne had walked the horses through the thorny barrier, it was not a pleasant task. Their skin was striped with many red scratches by the time they reached the well. Isabou's bulk though had helped open the pathway just a little, so that was a small mercy. The horses were very thirsty and drank greedily. Kario had gone to sit a short distance away while Aurianne drew a constant stream of water to sate the animals.

Jhary was making his way across the campsite as he noticed that Kario had begun to sing a very discordant tune in a strange language. It was quite possibly the strangest thing he had ever heard, and the notes most blasphemous to his musical ears and training. He could not help but ask the man what it was he was singing.

"It's a tune my mother would sing to me as a lullaby. I don't remember it all though sadly. It goes something like this..."

"I am the key in the dark of night,

a shining beacon that leads to light."

"Through gates of darkness to realms unseen,

I am the key that sets them free."

"With every step the path unwinds,

a zilant's journey through heart and mind."

"The silence whispers secrets unfurled,

as I walk the darkness a key of pearl."

"Hum, most poetic, but the melody, ugh!" Jhary made a distasteful face.

"Well where I am from it's considered beautiful." Kario said somewhat defensively.

"What on earth is a Zeelant anyway?"

"A zilant is a winged creature, with a lion's claws and an eagle's head."

"Strange," Jhary walked away shaking his head.

Kario just secretly smiled, and longed for the darkness and comfort of a place denied him.

*****

The evening was quiet and the weather fair. It had been decided that the next morning the trio would leave for the southeast. Raissa was morose on hearing this news, she too desired to go there, but her husband had forbidden it. It didn't help that Eirik, usually a very happy child was irritable. He fussed and cried, and didn't wish to eat his dinner. Raissa in frustration had put him to bed, but she still was not having much luck getting him to settle down to sleep. Sven had gone to his domicile to see what the problem was, and in no time there was a loud exchange of raised voices.

Aurianne looked to her companions. To sit listening to a domestic dispute was very uncomfortable. Raissa was now yelling at her man, they could not hear all she said but various words carried to them on the wind, some of them unkind. The argument went on for a long time unabated, and Aurianne kept looking back over her shoulder toward the dark entrance to the shipping container that served as Raissa's and Sven's home. It was then she heard the loud slap, and without thinking she got up and marched straight toward the arguing couple. Aran who had been sitting in Bennett's old place smirked as he watched her leave. Jhary and Kario looked concerned, but did not vacate their places.

Sven turned as he saw the tall archer walk up to the open door of his domicile. He glared at her wild eyed.

"Are you alright, Raissa?" Aurianne asked into the darkness defiantly, never taking her eyes from Sven.

"Yes," sniffed the woman. Rubbing her red and crying eyes, and emerging into the light.

"Come," said Aurianne, "sit with us a while."

Raissa took the invitation, as Sven disappeared into the building.

*****

The ensuing evening though was far from peaceful. Eirik's anguished cries woke the entire camp. The little boy was burning up with a high fever, and on further inspection by the firelight, it was discovered the boy's hand seemed discolored and very swollen.

"I told you not to let him go out into the garden, he's been bitten by a Black Widow spider or a scorpion!" Raissa screamed at her husband. "What can we do? There are no doctors or antidotes!" Tears were streaming down the distraught woman's face.

"It wasn't a spider or a scorpion!" Sven yelled back, "it was a beetle, a harmless, fucking beetle!"

"I don't believe you! Raissa wailed, still holding her crying child.

Aurianne had stumbled from her bedroll as had the others. Everyone crowded around the distressed couple and their crying son. Aran had his hand on his brother's shoulder trying his best to get the big man to ease up with his aggression. His belligerence would solve nothing.

"She is right though, he needs medical attention," Aurianne said worriedly, as she placed her hand on the child's fevered brow. "How far is the nearest settlement? She was looking pointedly at Aran.

"Two days southeast if you rode hard."

"Shit," Aurianne muttered under her breath, she didn't cuss often, but tonight it seemed fitting. She looked again at the boy's hand, his fingertips concerned her, they were no longer a healthy pink, but beginning to blacken at the tips. The skin was peeling too. It sure looked like the classic spider bite to her.

"Are you sure it was not a spider?" She questioned.

"Yes!" Snarled Sven in frustration.

The arguments waged back and forth as to what should be done. Aurianne bravely volunteered as the most accomplished rider with the strongest horse, to make the mercy dash. She would explain the situation in advance to the farmers, and get the boy care. The others could arrive later, after she had explained they would be arriving and had assured their safe admittance.

Raissa was all for this scenario, she was ready to do anything to help her son. Sven was uncertain, having trouble relinquishing control to someone other then himself or his brother. Even with Aran's reassurances that Aurianne was easily the best rider, a good person, and Eirik's best chance of getting treatment in any kind of timely manner. The old soldier took a lot of persuading until he finally relinquished his stubborn hold.

The lengthy argument had wasted much valuable time. It was by now a few hours before dawn. Eirik's condition was no better, and deteriorating swiftly. Perhaps that is why Sven changed his stubborn mind.

Aurianne sat Isabou, and Raissa handed the crying child to her. "Save him," was all she said in a small, tired voice.

"I will," Aurianne gently assured her, she took one look at her friends and the distraught Sven and departed from the camp at breakneck speed.

*****

The svelte Selene sat by her Mistresses side. Her long black hair spilling over her slender thighs. The only adornments on her supple body, was a silver chain that hung about her pale waist, and a strange silver pendant featuring a very large black stone that sat at the cleft of her throat. She had rescinded her earthly wolf form for the time being, and returned to her own world of perpetual darkness, that she may be at her Mistresses' side. Xonereth had desired her return. Selene was the King's eyes and ears to the upper plane, but for the moment she was needed here. Sheharizade though greatly diminished physically with her brush with upper earth, navigated the complexities of court life with the ever watchful Selene by her side.

There appeared no more new blades of light to pierce the demon's world. That much was a blessing, but the nobles were most unsettled. Many had rallied behind the King and his quest, but there were others who spoke in whispered duplicity.

The two demoness' heard them, the vague whispers in the cold corridors of power. Selene was an old demon, she had served Sheharizade's family for generations. She had witnessed the passage of many rulers, their ascension and their end. Though she was not of noble caste, she had some unique and rare abilities that many coveted. Such as her ability to flawlessly shape change into anything at all, and to go about in the light. Something no other demon had ever mastered. Some stated she was not pure demon, and perhaps they were right. Many said she was the progeny of the gods. She was after all borne when the world's were young and the Gods still cared enough to interact with their creations. Her unfaltering allegiance to Sheharizade's and Xonereth's cause was a boon.

*****

The following day found Sven and Raissa packing their scant possessions. The young woman could hardly believe she was leaving. In any other moment she would have been elated at the prospect of a new life. The hours she spent longing for better than this place were many, and the idea had recently consumed her with the fervor of a new found religion. However, the fate of her little boy tore at her heart, and she hoped she had done the right thing. She hardly knew Aurianne, and the archer had after all attacked them last winter and killed Sean. Though last evening the tall redhead had stood up to her bully of a husband, and that is what had persuaded Raissa that Aurianne's intent was indeed noble.

Once she had everything bundled together, she tied it with a strip of cloth, realizing that she possessed so little. Her entire life could be held in her arms. She sighed forlornly at this realization, and hoped for a more prosperous future. Sven had warned her though, that if the farming settlement would not admit him or Aran, or he felt they were in danger; he would not enter the village, and they would be forced to return here. Raissa dearly hoped it did not come to that.

Sven was torn, he didn't wish to return to society, and yet he very much did. He was a natural leader of men, and enjoyed being depended on and needed. He desired a place that he could feel accomplishment. This valley was not that place anymore. He worried for his son, and tried not to dwell on the worst, as he tied all their belongings to the awaiting horse's saddle.

He looked out across the camp toward the garden, the odd dark stranger was pacing about the newly planted beds. Sven was not wholly happy that all his good work would possibly go to waste. He tried not to dwell on the idea that he may need to return.

However, if he did, he hoped the new crop would survive his short absence. A failed corn crop would make survival here far more difficult. Renard was possibly his enemy after all. Sven was a proud man, and had never entreated an enemy for anything, but his boy's life was at stake. Family humbled him to do many things he had never bargained for.

Lucy had nothing to bring, all her possessions were intangible memories. She was afraid to rejoin society, it had been years since she had interacted with anyone but this group of brutal men. The closest she had come to a normal interaction was with her beloved Warren. However, he was gone. Lucy felt she had little choice but to follow. Maya would be in that settlement, and that lent her some comfort. However, eight, almost nine years of this life. It would be difficult to integrate.

Jhary had kindly advised Lucy he would walk while she and Raissa rode double on his horse. She hardly knew how to react to this handsome man's kindness. All she could muster was a fleeting hint of a gap toothed smile and a nod. No one had ever cared for her comfort or welfare but Warren, and my she missed him.

Kario had been pacing about the camp, he was still dwelling on the events of the night before. He had slept little, yet he was not tired. He had wandered down to the site of the garden, to where little Eirik had been playing yesterday. He did not know what he expected to see, nothing perhaps. Something though had drawn him there.

He scuffed his feet over the loose red earth. Where it had not been irrigated it was bone dry, gone to fine dust. Many discarded objects lay about the area toward the edges of the patch of cleared soil. Old forty-four gallon drums rusted and broken, pieces of corrugated iron, tangled balls of barbed wire, all catching the wandering tumbleweeds that blew across this arid land, becoming their final resting place.

Something then drew his keen eye. Something not of this place, there was a strange familiar and comforting scent as well. Almost undetectable, something not of this world. His hand strayed to his demon blade, it felt unusually cold. He paced over to the deep shade, and lifted the piece of corrugated iron. There he was greeted with the chitinous screams of a dozen of so brightly colored scarab beetles. They surrounded a black puddle of ooze that seemed to be slowly spreading, and as it did so the sand about it seemed to dissolve and hiss.

Kario did not know if he wished to reveal this discovery to the others. He knelt down and picked one of the scarab creatures up, it was large, and felt impossibly heavy in the palm of his hand. Far heavier than its size suggested. It did not nip him as he had expected a beetle to do, but simply crawled about once it got its bearings. Something told the curious man that this was something unnatural. Even to demon kind. With care he reached out to touch the black mass with the tips of his fingers. He didn't feel afraid, rather he was compelled.

The substance was cold to his first exploring touch. He reached his hand further into the black morass, but all he felt was a welcoming cool. The sensation was like being called home. Visions of his past washed over him, a pleasantness he had all but forgotten. He wanted to stay and fought the impulse. He reluctantly withdrew his hand, and the substance rolled off his dark skin like spilled mercury, and dropped onto the sand. He gazed down at the minute droplets, and curiously before his eyes they began to expand. Swallowing yet more of the dry sand to become a void of blackness.

Comforting or not, Kario knew what he was seeing and experiencing should not be here. He wrestled with trying to explain what he suspected this phenomenon could be to his companions. He was very uncomfortable over it, especially with Jhary present, as he knew how the bard would react. Yet today it must be said.

He stood up and called to the others. Jhary arrived first, Aran and Sven seemed less inclined to care what Kario had deemed notable to interrupt their leaving. They wished to be gone early, before the day grew too warm. The women followed behind them, Raissa, red eyed, clearly distraught.

Sven appeared annoyed at being distracted, and Aran wandered over, casually looking disinterested. Kario pointed to the cluster of the unusual metallic beetles that littered the ground beneath the flat tin.

"These should not be here," Kario said to the onlookers. Working up the courage to tell them the rest of his theories, and thereby exposing his differences completely in the process. He really didn't know where these next few minutes would take him. Naturally he was afraid.

"Those were the beetles!" Sven remarked loudly. "Eirik had one of these." Most interested now he reached for a stick, and poked at the creatures. They made buzzing and clicking sounds of distressed irritation.

Raissa stood behind him, her honey colored eyes fixated on the insects that had seemed to be the cause of her son's strange malady. "We should take a specimen, it might help the doctors. I will go find a jar." The young woman sprinted away.

"That isn't oil." Aran added, he too poking at the strange substance that was spreading outward in the orange sand. The small droplets that Kario had displaced had already grown in proportion. The warrior poked his stick into the hole, it sank deep, and as he pulled it from the spreading murk it retained an outline of its past shape periodically, and then vaporized into nothingness with a muted hiss.

"What the hell," Sven said, "it's like acid, and my son was foolin with this." He threw his own stick down. "We had better get going."

"Before we do there is something I must say."

The two brother's pale eyes bored into Kario's dark stare. Kario could already see the look on Jhary's face and the beginnings of the slightest eye roll. The gesture did not give him confidence. Yet he had to try, they must understand. Even he didn't know for sure what was occurring, but he had he thought, a very strong hunch.

All eyes were on him as he walked over to the black, slowly spreading puddle of strange, consuming, darkness. He heard the others mutter and gasp as they realized what he was about to do. Without hesitation he immersed his hand in the umbral pool. He turned to gaze at them his one dark eye on his companions through the curtain of his thick, wavy black locks.

"To me this is harmless." He announced as he withdrew his hand. "But to everything up here..." He gestured to the sky and his newfound friends. "This spells death."

"It's radiation," Jhary contested weakly, only to be drowned out by Svend.

"Radiation does not make black pools musician." Sven countered, seriousness in his tone. "So why didn't you evaporate like that stick? Sven's gray eyes strayed to the stump of the twig Aran had been holding, and then directly confronted Kario with a challenging stare.

Kario felt the dominance in the older man's look, but matched it with an equally confident gaze of his own. He took up a branch that lay in the sand, and proceeded to explain further by drawing a diagram, heartened that Sven was at least open to listening, and had so swiftly shut Jhary down. "I know what you humans mostly believe. The earth is round, and it's full of layers, and well it is..."

"You are not one of those flat earther's..." Aran said with derision.

"Let him finish!" Sven silenced his brother annoyed.

Kario continued, this was hard to explain. A conversation he had never wished to have with anyone. "... and it is, but it isn't, there are dimensions, planes of existence that run parallel to this one."

Sven's countenance was furrowed in deep thought and puzzlement, but he did not interrupt.

"This darkness is of my world, that's why I remain unharmed by it. It looks like oil or some kind of contaminate, but it's the very fabric of my dimension. For some reason the two dimensions are bleeding into one other, at least I think they are."

"Hold on..." Sven pulled him up. "What do you mean by your world, and what are the beetles, because they are like no bug I have ever seen here?"

"I was not born here on your earth." Kario felt alarm at the way all of them looked at one another as he said this. His hand went to his athame to lend him courage. Fortunately no one interrupted him. "I was born on the plane that connects to this one, it is a place of constant darkness. My people cannot go about here in the bright light by day, to do so is death. Think of it as, there is the scientific reality of the earth you know, and a mental reality of two layers. In fact I believe there are many more. However, for my example we will imagine just two. The people of my plane can travel here freely, but only by night. However as far as I know the huma..." Kario stumbled, he knew that they would not take it well that he considered they were something other, inferior to himself so he abruptly corrected his narrative. "... people's of this place cannot do so without death. The beetles I can not explain, I have never seen them before, they are something not of my plane nor this one."

Kario then looked across to Jhary. "You once asked me about Lady Death, and I avoided your question, because I knew you would not understand. I am still unsure you will, however, that lady was my mother. She came to rescue me, risking death by the light, or I would not be here today. I was weak then, and I didn't have my blade."

Jhary was unusually quiet, he licked his lips uneasily but didn't add to the conversation.

Svend bent down and examined at the dark spreading stain closely. "So why are you not dead then standing in the sun, if what you just told me was true?"

He seemed skeptical, and he had every right to be thought Kario nervously. He was almost afraid the man may move to slay him. However, Kario had expected this challenge to his story's authenticity. "My Father was at least according to my mother, from this world, and I guess because of that I can exist in both."

"This is all just crazy science fiction!" Jhary suddenly expostulated, throwing his hands in the air and walking away back toward the horses. The others barely gave him a thought.

"So if I touch that," Sven bade to move his hand toward the oozing blackness.

"No, don't!" Kario warned, "it will kill you."

"Then what about my son?" Sven's earnest gaze sought some reassurance. "Will it kill him?"

Kario was afraid to answer the man, he was very protective over his family. "I really cannot say with any honestly. I simply do not know."

Sven held the dark man's eyes for long moments before he said, "I will consider what you have said, though it does sound like the ravings of a mad man. But this too is unexplained. So I will keep an open mind. I will speak with you more on this later."

Kario nodded and they made to leave. He had to make them understand.