The Riddle of Midnight - The Last of Varduk - Post #5
"Many that live dserve death. And some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them? Then do not be too eager to deal out death in judgement. For even the very wise cannot see all ends."
- Fellowship of the Ring - Shadow of the Past, J.R.R. Tolkien
The next morning they found Cal's dead body and realized that I had done it. I had to, he made me appear weak in front of what was taking the place of my tribe.
I awoke to a horrible beating, remaining hand destroyed by Karhoun’s blade. I could do nothing, a one armed Orc, now without a hand. They bound me and took me down the trail. The Wildlander’s name had been Cal, they found his Wildlander markings, rocks, notches in trees or marks on boulders that could lead the wise to his cave.
I never saw the inside of his cave. They beat me until I was unconscious. The next thing I would see would be the Sea Elf girl, Laeli with a jagged knife in her hands. It would also be the last thing I’d see.
I died the death of a weakling. Izrador will no doubt throw me from the Northlands, where his blessed reside, cast me out into the sea to spend an eternity drowning.
Laeli’s Awakening
It was the warmth that brought me to consciousness, brought me back from where I had been.
I don’t remember much of my time with the Orcs, which is for the best. The body is just a shell, Elves, who spend centuries in their shells, are more aware of this than most. I remember seeing Baau, but it was like his face was just being seen through a haze. I assumed he was a hallucination, suddenly seeing the boy I was in love with, who was betrothed to my sister while enduring great pain.
But the truth of it was less simple than that. He had rescued me from the Orcs. I remember the kind Wildlander’s face. His name was Cal and he spoke to me, introducing himself, while he sat with the others, made palaver by the fire.
The next thing that I remember was the hatred, the fury. I had to kill my sister. The cold of the northwind, being debased by foul Orcs, Baau’s doomed quest to find her, all of these things were her fault. However, when Baau asked me why I must take the knife to her I couldn’t explain why. The words got caught behind my teeth, lost in my broken shell.
They had taken me to Cal’s home, a cave with a spring within it, the spring heated and wondrous. It was the first time that I could remember being warm, being tenderly bathed by Baau. I took stock of my body and saw that I would live, and that fighting wasn’t beyond me. I found marks, bruises, cuts and scrapes on my body that shocked me. If I had found such things on another I would have wailed in pain for what they had been through but I kept this to myself.
Cal’s mother had left clothes, warm deerskin that was good for the climate and fit me well. After bathing I put on my clothes and intended to go outside, admire nature, but Baau was there, his brown eyes looking at me in pain. His friends had the sense enough to leave us some privacy or their chores outside kept them busy.
“Why did you leave the bay?” he asked.
I responded, “I had to find my sister. I intended to kill her. You should know this as I wish to hide nothing from you.”
He shook his head, as if I were still a little girl on the beach, wanting to dive into the ruins with the older kids. “I can’t let that happen. She is my betrothed and I am sworn to save her. Why do you want to kill her?”
Again, the words were stuck in me. My sister, Lonet, was known as the Gem of the Muransil, the Gem of the Bay. When she was a little girl her gifts were as such that she was taken to the Witch Queen, where it was determined that she would be the Witch Queen’s own apprentice, an Avatar of some kind. Since that was declared she was treated as a holy relic among my people.
Then Lonet fell in love with Baau, one of the best spears in the bay, a promising warrior. No doubt her amazing powers kept from her that I had been in love with Baau.
“I can’t explain why I must kill her, Baau. Please. Take me home. Let us go home and our families can reconcile and you can marry me instead of her.”
His eyes told me his answer.
I left the cave.
Karhoun was a beast of a Northman. A scar on his face marred his blonde beard. His hands were dirty and raw from building Cal’s burial mound.
Vorden Qell wore a red, shiny skullcap over his bald head. Vorden presented me with Cal’s ragged knife, which had been passed down to Cal from his father, a rusty steel knife, an heirloom, a treasure to that kind man.
The Wood Elf sneered, “This is for you. We have something for you to do. We’ve left this to you.”
The Orc was an abomination, one stump raw and newly healed, hand a mangled mess. He sneered at me and cursed in Black Tongue. Karhoun, understanding his words, moved to strike him but Vorden stayed his hand. “Let her do this, Karoun, this could help her.”
I looked at the knife and the helpless Orc and understood. I was to kill this creature. Karhoun asked, “Can you and will you?”
Mercy was what I was taught. You only killed when you had to, when you must. You killed Orcs when they invaded your home. This was different. This creature was helpless.
I couldn’t remember his face but the smell of him as I approached his smell brought back memories. I remembered the legs, the stones, the trees and the ways they tied me up. I remembered making stone markings, tiny pebbles that were markers left to others in my homelands, to show that a storm was coming. If the storm came, the pebbles would be swept away.
I remembered my storm and I thought about Cal’s kind, weathered face and I took the jagged dagger to the Orcs neck. It wasn’t sharp enough to cut and so I stabbed. By the end I lost count of the stabbings. After waiting to hear the Orc’s breath expire, I walked away. Karhoun nodded in approval and saw to the body, chopping off the head and feet, to avoid him rising later as Fell.
