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sepia-mahogany · 3 years

Note

Prompt: hearing about xuanwus defeat, madam jin and jin zixuan come to lotus pier and overhear madam yu saying wei wuxian should have let the 'sect heirs die', lwj who's recovering also overhears, the 3 get first hand experience of jiang household situation and decide fk this and take wwx out of there, its a prompt from vrishchikawrites blog (a wonderful write!) So maybe ask permission?

From the prompt on @vrishchikawrites

Jin Zixuan could not forget the young man, the head disciple of Yunmeng Jiang, who, despite his previous (petty) grievances with, had stepped up when everyone else had been frozen on the spot, and no matter how hard he tried, he could not get his blood stained image out of his mind. Which had led to this discussion.

“What? No! I forbid it.” his father responded when he asked for sending reinforcements to Jiang Sect, while he understood with Cloud Recesses burnt down, and Nie under attack, either Yunmeng Jiang or Lanling Jin were next on the table, and despite having well equipped men, with the best of weapons, his father refused to extend help.

Refused to stand against those who sought to harm his son, ‘in situations like these, know when to step back’ he had said, and Jin Zixuan could feel shame creeping up under his skin, outnumbered and clearly at losing stakes, he hadn’t hesitated to save him, and what would that make him if he forgot the debt so clearly owed? To live the lavish life of a coward..! He could see his mother fuming from where she stood, and closed his eyes to suppress his bitter thoughts, he wanted to do something, anything to help.

And suddenly, anger melted from her face and that smile crept up her face and he felt a chill down his spine, a sense of foreboding overcame him, he could see his father tense as well. “Of course, the Jin Sect sides with them.” she spoke, venom dripping off her every word. “Nothing wrong if the Sect Leader’s wife wants the marriage renewed?” a pit formed in his stomach, he did not want to marry a woman he barely knew, but using this opportunity, they could, in a sense create a bond, stronger than of just two sworn sisters.

However, “Madam Jin meets up with her sworn sister, Madam of Jiang Sect, just as Qishan Wen begins its attacks?” the war has been declared, how would it seem if the two sect Madams, and the Sect heirs are meeting, with or without the Sect Leader? “The risks are completely unneeded, what do we gain from this?” his mother glared at his father, who pointedly ignored her, Jin Zixuan exhaled, thinking things over.

As much as he disliked the engagement, he knew she would not bring it up, unless the situation, as dire as it was, needed it, this bond could provide future aid to one another should the need arise, so Jin Zixuan kept his disagreements to himself, because he knew she wouldn’t force him, not with the concerns of a cold loveless marriage like his parents, he knew she was using it as a cover to aid her sworn sister.

An opportunity, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then remembered how the Second Jade, Lan Wangji had stood shoulder to shoulder with him, and Wei Wuxian, Head Disciple, had stepped up to save them.

Jin Zixuan exhaled, and made a decision, muttering out a half-hearted excuse, he left them on their own, and later into the night, he approached his mother.

--------

The boat landed steadily, unnoticed in the middle of the night, his mother had won the final say in the matter, of course with the reluctant agreement of remaining disguised as just another trade ship, the serene view would have been calming, had his nerves not have been high strung from adrenaline, small sacrifices, he could of course find a way to break off the engagement in a future of more peaceful times.

Jin Zixuan climbed out the boat first, followed calmly by his mother, the disguises were near perfect, for the disciples around the brightly lit place to look curious, but not alarmed. One, he recognised seeing a few times at Cloud Recesses, came near them with a nervous smile. “We offer you our sincerest apologies but...we’d appreciate it if travellers could avoid an audience with the Sect Leader?”

The disguises were perfect then, for they had been mistaken as travellers that would go to and fro from Yunmeng Jiang Sect, his mother sniffed and looked at the disciple sternly “We are not here for the Sect Leader, but the Violet Spider, we have an important message for them.” Jin Zixuan had noticed before but now it had become more apparent as the disciples shifted around, something was off, it dampened his enthusiasm and the rush he had felt earlier, instead concern filled him, had something happened to Wei Wuxian?

His mother held out a token, the disciple’s eyes widened and he bowed in respect, “I assume this would be enough?” Madam Jin said curtly, and the disciple nodded, though tensely. “This one will escort you to the guest chambers”

The curious gazes had not been moved, as they moved inside, step by step, down the corridor they went, as the muffled voices became more distinguishable, all 3 of them froze when they heard, unmistakably the Jiang Sect Heir’s voice. “-You shouldn’t have played the hero and you shouldn’t have cared for such a hell of a thing. If in the beginning you hadn’t….”

Jin Zixuan felt a cold pit forming in his stomach, surely he must be mistaken, but seeing the expression twisting on his mothers face, he could assume he was not, in fact, misunderstanding what Jiang Wanyin was implying.

The disciple bowed quickly, slightly panicked “If you’d follow me-” Madam Jin pointed at him and he immediately shut up, head bowed, just as the Jiang Sect Leader reprimanded “Jiang Cheng.” Silence followed. “Do you know in which ways what you just have said is not appropriate?” was followed by a glum “Yes.”

Even if slightly, Jin Zixuan relaxed, his mother’s expression lightening into a frown, ‘at least someone is self-aware’ Madam Jin thought. “He’s just angry and speaking without care” another voice added, Jin Zixuan perked up, Wei Wuxian! So he was alright, he felt relieved. Madam Jin continued to frown, Wei Wuxian was clearly trying to lessen the pressure off of the Jiang heir.

Another harsh voice cut through them all “Yes, he doesn’t understand but what does it matter, as long as Wei Ying understands!?” rang out her voice, Madam Jin’s lips pursed into a line, of what her son had just said, that was what she was focusing on?

“‘To attempt at the impossible’ is exactly how he is, isn’t it? Fooling around even though he knew it’d bring trouble to his sect!?” Jin Zixuan sneaked a look at his mother to see her eyes cold, her fist clenched tightly, he was aware they shouldn’t be hearing this, but this? It wasn’t what they expected at all, he was frozen in place, what in the world was he hearing?

Madam Jin’s thoughts matched her appearance, for once she felt less than charitable towards Yu Ziyuan, and more and more like a fool, here she was, risking her and her son’s safety, her sects safety, for a woman who couldn't care less about her son’s life, but was also wilfully blinding herself to the war right on the horizon, ‘No’ she thought to herself, ‘it was I who was truly blind’

And it was the boy she heard being called ‘Fengmian’s bastard’ or ‘son of a servant’ who had saved her son's life instead, she bit back the bitter chuckle that threatened to escape her, truly, what a fool she was, to be caught in the violet spiders web.

She looked at her son, whose face clouded over the more he heard, she grabbed his arm tightly, if nothing else then to prevent him from barging inside, with Jiang Fengmian’s favor, she was sure that they didn’t need to interfere, until, “My lady, what are you doing here?” she held back her disbelief, her son on the other hand, inhaled sharply.

This was what he was focusing on? Not the insults to his bas- to his ward? To his sect’s entire foundation? It would seem she was truly mistaken, in her and Yu Ziyuan sharing their miseries, entirely wrong about her character, and who was still throwing around callous words for the sake of it, for what else? If not her own cruelty?

"What am I doing here? What a joke that I am asked of such a thing! Sect Leader Jiang, do you still remember that I'm also the leader of Lotus Pier? Do you still remember that every inch of the earth here is my territory? Do you still remember, between the one lying there and the one standing there, which one is your son?" Disbelief and disgust couldn’t even begin to describe what Madam Jin was feeling, the Sect Leader’s response, however, “I do remember.” Enhanced those to the heights she didn't even know she was capable of feeling.

And so stood the enraged Madam of Jin Sect, the horrified Jin heir and one ashamed disciple whose head could bow no lower, but that was nothing compared to what was said next “You do remember, but there's no use if you simply remember. Wei Ying, he really can't take it unless he stirs up some trouble, can he? If I had known, I would've made him stay in Lotus Pier properly and not go outside. Could Wen Chao really have dared to do anything to the two young masters of the GusuLan Sect and Lanling Jin Sect? Even if he did, it'd mean that they ran out of luck. Since when was it your turn to play the hero?"

Blood roared in Madam Jin’s ears, her nails digging into her palm, she wanted to bite Yu Ziyuan’s head off there and then. ‘Of all the idiotic, foolish, horrid, things she could utter-’ in her cursing, she only realised she had put too much force in her rage filled haze when her son hissed in pain, she immediately let go of his arm, and pinched the bridge of her nose, taking calming breaths.

She was afraid she would do something terrible and irrevocable if she stayed there any longer, listening to a pathetic mockery of- she exhaled and pushed Jin Zixuan towards the open doors. “B-but mother-” he looked back but she gave him that look and he quietened “Later a-Xuan.” while moving outwards, the disciple trailing behind them, they could easily catch some of the words the woman threw at Wei Wuxian.

Madam Jin gritted her teeth in anger, and left without looking back, once she and her son were seated in the boat. “A-Xuan” she began, lightly ruffling his hair “Your marriage is up to you to decide, I will have no say in the matter from here onwards” Her son was not going to be married into that cursed Sect no matter what if she could help it, she moved forward to pull him into a hug, “Mother was wrong.”

“But mother what about..?” She heard him say, she pulled back and rest one hand on his shoulder, the other caressing his cheek, her son, who by the Jiang’s standards, should’ve been killed, and her blood boiled in her veins. “We came here to make a bond and talk if it were possible, since that wasn’t possible, it can be done some other day.” She lightly patted him, and seeing his thoughts drift off, thought to herself darkly ‘and if the Jiangs are attacked, well, they ran out of luck then.’

Her son hesitantly nodded, “Wei Wuxian...I owe him, for saving me then, if not for him.....” She sniffed, as if indicating what was obvious “Of course,” When the news spread later that Lotus Pier was attacked, with Jiang Wanyin and Wei Wuxian on the run, she hoped for Wei Wuxian’s survival, more so than the Jiang Sect Heir.

And if, perhaps, after a few years her son proposed sworn brotherhood with that Wei Wuxian, well, it wasn’t without her approval.

----------------------------

authors notes i guess?

Okay so writing Madam Yu’s lines legit left me disgusted like wtf was she even saying?? Also like I tried to write Madam Jin similar but a bit less than Madam Yu (ya know madam jin never whipped kids with her spiritual weapons, if she had any, not to our knowledge at least...right?) but ended up venturing straight into slightly dark madam jin heh, also like no engagement, no jin-wei tense relationship, (there’ll be 1-2 parts more probably) also wwx woke up earlier in this one, this’ll serve as catalyst for later years.

#mdzs fic #jin zixuan #madam jin #jin guangshan #jiang wanyin #jiang fengmian #madam yu #unnamed disciple lol #prompt writing #anon asks #my writing

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teacupfulofstarshine · 4 years

Text

the crossroad of our destinies book three: air

cw: mild angst, cartoon violence, manipulation/betrayal, detailed fight scene including minor character death, blood, injury, weapons, sedatives, and manipulation, swearing, nightmare mention, references to past child abuse, mention of potential genocide

to skip the fight scene, skip the section that starts “There’s no need to be difficult, Roman.”

wordcount: 6926

book one: earth // book two: fire // read it on ao3!

“I’m hardly a master of air bending,” Patton says nervously, fidgeting with his hands.

“You’re the only air bender that we know,” Thomas says, pressing his hands together and bowing his head. “Please, Pat, you have to teach me! Who else will do it?”

“There are plenty of air benders in the temples where we live, Thomas, much more skilled than myself. I still think you’d be better off going there and seeking out one of the monks to train you.” Patton fidgets nervously with his hands. “I’m . . . not exactly a master airbender. I’m just a kid.”

“We’re all just kids,” Thomas argues. “None of us chose to be thrown into this war, but we’re here now. Please, Patton. The sooner I learn air bending, the closer I’ll be to ending this war.”

“And what happens when you do end the war?” Virgil asks.

“What do you mean?”

“We’re all from different nations, different histories, different cultures. We never would have met without this war. What will happen when it ends? Don’t get me wrong, I’m more than ready for peace, but are we just . . . never going to see each other again?”

“That’s stupid,” Roman says. “I’m not going to just stop being friends with you all once the war’s over. If anything, with my bitchass dad dead -”

“Language.”

“- I won’t have to worry about getting murdered for having friends. You’re all my friends, and I fully expect all of you to be at my wedding ceremony when I marry Dolos.”

“Really?” Logan asks softly. “You would want us to come to your wedding?”

“Of course I would,” Roman says. He reaches out and gently touches Logan’s shoulder. Logan smiles, and Virgil feels something tight in his chest begin to uncoil. “Somebody has to walk me down the aisle, after all.”

“I volunteer as tribute!” Patton chirps eagerly. “And - and Thomas, I’m not an air bending teacher, by any stretch of the imagination, but if you’re willing to put up with me, I can try and teach you what I know.”

*~*~*~*~*

“How many times have they done this now?” Roman asks.

“Counting this? Sevent - nope, eighteen,” Virgil says. Thomas tries to copy what Patton is showing him, and he falls flat on his face. “I think the problem is that earth and air are on opposite ends of the bending spectrum, so their movements are the antithesis of each other. Earth bending is all solid movements and grounded footing, and air bending is about being light and detached.”

“So what are you saying? Thomas won’t be able to learn how to do it?”

“No, he’ll be able to learn. Every Avatar before him has mastered all four elements, there’s no reason that he can’t do it too. It’s just gonna be particularly difficult to do this stage.”

Thomas falls for the nineteenth time, screams in frustration, and punches a massive fireball into the sky. “Impressive size, poor technique!” Roman calls.

“I’m not working on fire bending right now, criticism is unwarranted!”

“This isn’t going to work, is it,” Logan says dryly.

“Have some confidence in your brother,” Virgil says. “But no, I don’t think it is. We might need to try a different approach.”

“Such as what? Patton’s the only air bender that we’ve got.”

“Technically, we have Remy, too.”

“What in the fresh hell are you smoking?” Roman says. Virgil ignores him, reaching out to gently pat Remy’s nose. The flying bison huffs out a puff of warm air that nearly knocks Roman over and gently pushes his nose into Virgil’s hand.

“Fire benders learned to bend from the dragons, earth benders learned to bend from the badger moles, water benders learned to bend from the moon, and air benders learned to bend from the flying bison. I’m not saying that Remy has the temperament to be a bending master, mind you, I’m just saying that he could be a teacher.” Remy makes a disgruntled noise and shuffles off to flop down and sleep a few yards away.

“He might have better luck than Patton is currently having,” Logan says. “I am sure he is trying his best, but Thomas is not showing promising results.”

“Yeah, but think about how long it took for him to first make a flame when I was training him,” Roman argues.

“We no longer have that kind of time,” Logan says. “The reports from your brother are getting more dire every day. Your father is speeding up his plans of conquest, and we cannot let him harm any more innocent civilians. We must stop him in his tracks, and that may necessitate accelerating my brother’s training schedule.”

Thomas hits the ground again. Virgil winces at the noise. “We should have a team meeting about this.”

*~*~*~*~*

The team meeting takes several days.

This is mostly because people (namely Logan, Thomas, both of them, and occasionally Patton) get fed up and storm away to blow off steam without taking it out directly on other people. Virgil does his best to maintain a neutral voice-of-reason position, but no one in their group has ever been particularly inclined to neutrality. (Logan claims that he is, but he is also the most prone to losing his temper.)

Eventually, they come to a collective consensus that while Patton is doing his best to teach Thomas the ways of air bending, it may not be enough for the time frame they’re working with. “I’m doing my best,” Patton says, staring firmly into the campfire, “and I know that Thomas is doing his best, too. But I don’t think our bests are moving fast enough, given the timeline of the Fire Nation’s attacks.”

“According to Remus, my father is moving up the attack schedules every day,” Roman comments. “The faster Thomas can master air bending, the better.”

“I agree,” Thomas says. Logan makes a face, rocks trembling at his feet, but Thomas reaches out and squeezes his wrist. “Hey, Lo, stop it. It’s not a personal attack on me. I’m not mad, he’s right.” Logan huffs, but lets himself calm down. “We have to find someone qualified to teach air bending and hope that they can help me.”

“We should see which Air Nomad temple we’re closest to,” Patton says. “I think that’s our best bet. The monks there spend their whole lives training acolytes to bend air, they’ll be able to help you.”

“Are we sure that’s the safest option?” Roman counters. “Remus said that Air Nomad dignitaries were meeting with Father, and if that’s true then -”

“We’re pacifists,” Patton says stubbornly. “We only fight if absolutely necessary. We would never side with a tyrant who’s trying to take over the entire world.” The fire flares a little, and Patton winces and takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I - I didn’t mean to insult your dad, Roman. I just -"

“It’s okay,” Roman says. He lets out a long, slow, controlled breath, and Virgil watches as the fire returns to its original size. “It’s okay, you - you’re right. You’re right, Patton, you don’t have to apologize for that. My dad is a tyrant and he is an abusive asshole and he is trying to take over the entire world. You don’t have to apologize.”

“But he’s still your father,” Patton says. “It only makes sense that you would have an emotional attachment to him.”

“I don’t want to have an emotional attachment to him,” Roman pouts. “I barely want to have a genetic attachment to him! He’s a dumbass and he’s useless and - and I don’t need him or his validation!” He pushes to his feet angrily and throws a fireball towards the surrounding trees. Patton swiftly bends a vortex around the fire to suction out its oxygen before it can cause any significant damage.

“We know,” Logan says softly. “You are more than your father’s son, Roman. You have grown to be more than he could ever be.” Roman’s shoulder shake, chest heaving as he turns away. Virgil reaches out and touches his shoulder; Roman flinches, but when Virgil starts to pull his hand away, he whimpers and leans back towards the touch.

“We know you’re not him,” Virgil says quietly. “I know you’re not him.”

“He’s hurt all of you so much,” Roman whispers. “He’s the reason you lost your father, Virgil. He’s the reason Thomas and Logan’s village was razed to the ground, he’s the reason that Dolos had half of his face burnt off, he’s the reason my mother abandoned Remus and me and - and he did so much bad shit and - and I have to fix it, I have to -”

“You don’t have to do anything,” Thomas says. “I’m the Avatar, Roman, and it’s my job to restore balance to the world. I know that you have your own reasons for wanting to dethrone your father, but you are not responsible for what he did.” He grips Roman’s hands and gives what Virgil can only describe as his best “I’m-the-Avatar-and-everything-is-okay-now” smile.

Virgil has trouble pulling comfort from it, but Roman seems to. “Thanks, Thomas.” He squeezes Thomas’s hands back, and he smiles. Virgil is still uneasy about pretty much every aspect of their situation, but he can at least relax in the knowledge that their little group’s uneven edges have settled comfortably against each other again.

*~*~*~*~*

You are in more danger than you realize.

Virgil lifts his head, and suddenly he’s not curled around the campfire sleeping with the rest of his friends. He stands in the middle of a vast expanse of black nothingness. Wisps of smoke curl around his ankles, creeping up towards his knees. He swats them away hurriedly, whirling around and watching a puff of water vapor appear where he’d just breathed out.

“Who are you?! Where am I?!”

You are safe, little water bender. I am a friend, one you have rescued before.

The mist stirs in front of him, forming a small dragon shape coiled in front of him. “You’re . . . the dragon I saved from the Fire Nation temple?”

The very same. Your fire bender friend is right to be suspicious. The Air Nomads are acting strangely. There are disturbances in the Spirit World. Proceed with caution and make sure that you protect those close to you.

“Disturbances? Isn’t it Thomas’s job to balance the natural and spirit worlds as the Avatar? Should I tell him about it?”

This is not a disturbance he can heal, not yet. You must keep him safe until he matures enough to help us. Protect him, little water bender, and keep your eyes peeled. If the Avatar falls, the world is doomed.

The darkness surges up around Virgil, and he wakes up screaming.

*~*~*~*~*

“And you’re sure that you’re okay?” Patton asks, gently touching his shoulder. Virgil rubs his arms, shaking softly. “You were screaming so loudly . . . you were so scared . . .”

“It was just a nightmare,” Virgil says. Patton wraps an arm around Virgil’s shoulders, hesitantly, as though he’s going to push it away. Normally he would, but Virgil is still shaken, and he leans into the soft touch. Patton makes a soft noise and pulls him closer.

“I know it was,” Patton says. “But it’s okay. You’re awake now, and we’re here. It’ll be alright. We’ll be at the Western Air Temple in a couple days, and then we’ll be totally safe.”

Virgil doesn’t know how to tell him that they won’t be safe, that they’d be safer in the Fire Nation’s outlying villages than in the temple, because he’s seen the way Patton gets more excited the closer they get. So he stays silent, pressing close to his friend.

*~*~*~*~*

Remy swishes his tail irritably as they glide closer to the mountains. “Is he okay?” Virgil asks. “He seems kinda . . . upset.”

“He doesn’t like flying close to the mountains,” Patton says. “The winds are a lot stronger, and it takes more effort for him to course correct. He has to do it a lot more frequently, too.”

Remy makes an exasperated huffing noise and veers sharply to the left. “It’s so pretty up here,” Roman wonders, leaning over the side of the saddle. “Isn’t it beautiful, Logan?”

“Beautiful,” Logan deadpans. “There are so many different shades of black to see up here.”

Roman winces, but Logan is smirking, so Virgil pats his shoulder reassuringly and turns his gaze to the mountains. There’s a large, elaborate structure built into the crevasses of the largest mountain, spires and peaks and buildings, some of which blend so seamlessly into the mountain they’re difficult to see. If he squints, he can just barely make out tiny figures flitting around the mountain.

Remy lands at the base, rather than taking them all the way up to the top. “The head monks take turns bending the air currents around the Temple itself, so we can’t approach unannounced. We’re just gonna have to hike up there.”

“Why would we hike when Thomas and I can bend us up the mountain?” Logan says. He hops off of Remy’s saddle and wiggles his toes, happy to be back on the ground. “It will not take long at all.”

“But I don’t just want to leave Remy alone down here . . .”

Logan squares his shoulders and leans into an earthbending stance. Within five minutes, he’s created a cave in the side of the mountain for Remy to settle into. “I promise we’ll come back for you,” Patton says, pressing his forehead against Remy’s nose. The bison huffs, but licks Patton back anyway.

“I don’t like this,” Virgil says. “What if something goes wrong? We’ll be all the way up there, with no quick escape, I . . .”

“Are you expecting something to go wrong?” Patton asks softly. He looks upset, Virgil realizes, like he was expecting pushback.

“Of course not, Pat,” Virgil says, reassuring. “I didn’t mean to say that I don’t trust your people. That’s not what I’m tryin’a say at all. I’m always nervous that something will go wrong. Anxiety, remember? It’s kind of my job to worry about stuff like this.”

“I know,” Patton sighs, reaching over and patting at Virgil’s shoulder. “I appreciate you, Vee. But you know you don’t have to be worried, right? These are my people. They may not be the temple I grew up in, but they’re still my people. They won’t hurt us.”

Virgil smiles, and wishes he believed Patton.

*~*~*~*~*

Even with a master earth bender (not that he’d ever call Logan one to his face) and the Avatar himself, it takes them a good while to get up the mountain. Virgil gets more and more anxious the farther up the mountain they get, and Roman looks pretty antsy himself. He’d ditched his more traditional Fire Nation clothing for some of Thomas’s spares and he’d let Virgil style his hair to obscure his face.

“How much farther?” he asks. Patton is bouncing eagerly on the tips of his toes.

“Not long now!”

When they finally crest over a ridge and into the temple, they’re greeted by a group of school-age children. They all stare at the strangers with expressions ranging from confusion to wariness to outright terror, and then Patton steps forward. He says something in a language Virgil doesn’t speak, but it must be some kind of Air Nomad greeting because all of the children parrot back in unison.

Patton pushes his bangs off his face, showing them the arrow tattooed on his forehead. “My friends and I have come to seek sanctuary,” he says. “We do not mean to cause alarm.”

“What temple are you from?” one of the children asks. The others cluster behind her.

“I am from the Eastern Air Temple,” Patton says. “My friends are not air benders, but we come seeking sanctuary.”

“You have to come with us,” she says. “You have to speak to the Head Monk about that.”

“Of course,” Patton says. “If you would be so kind as to lead the way?”

One of the children tugs on Patton’s flowy skirt. “Why do you have hair, mister? Is that a Eastern Air Temple thing?”

“It’s not an Eastern Air Temple thing, dummy,” the leader says. “All Air Nomads shave their heads. I dunno why he’s weird.” Patton doesn’t flinch at the insinuation, but it’s a very close thing.

“It’s because I have not been in a temple for quite a while, little one,” Patton says instead. “We’ve been traveling for many months, and I haven’t been able to take care of all this.”

“Well, we can cut all your hair off here, mister,” the leader says. “C’mon, the Head Monk is gonna be interested to see you.”

Virgil looks at Roman, who looks exactly as nervous as Virgil feels, and swallows. Logan looks normal, but he’s also pressing closer to Thomas than he normally does (probably unintentionally).

Yeah. Virgil has a bad feeling about this.

*~*~*~*~*

The children take them to a large hallway. A single woman sits inside, eyes closed, meditating. Virgil is about to suggest that they come back later, so as not to bother her, but she speaks without opening her eyes. “Hiroshi. Kanna. What are you doing here?”

The girl, apparently named Kanna, recites a greeting and performs a strange bow. The boy, who must be Hiroshi, copies her quickly; the rest of the children had scattered long before they reached this hall. “Visitors, Head Monk. We brought them to you.”

The woman opens her eyes, standing up and sweeping her robes around her. “I see. Thank you. You are now dismissed.”

“Yes, Head Monk,” the children say, bowing again before scuttling out of the hall. The woman approaches them slowly, letting the anxiety in Virgil’s stomach rise to a rolling boil.

“I am Kya, Head Monk of the Eastern Air Temple. We welcome you, visitors, seekers of sanctuary.” Her words are kind, but her voice disturbs Virgil. It’s too calm, too devoid of emotion. “What brings you here today?”

Patton reveals his tattoo to her as well before performing the same strange bow Kanna and Hiroshi had. “I am Patton, of the Western Air Temple. These are my friends, they -”

Thomas steps forward, brown eyes gleaming slightly. “Head Monk Kya, my name is Thomas, and I am -”

“The Avatar,” she breathes.

“I’ve been trying to teach him air bending,” Patton says, “but -”

“You could not. I am unsurprised. You have clearly fallen out of practice.” There’s something strange in her eyes, and Patton seems to wilt away from her. “Allowing your hair to grow over your tattoos? Shameful. It is any wonder you can connect with the element which breathes life into your body. I am disappointed.” Her voice is like frost, and Patton grows smaller with every piercing word.

“Hey, that’s not fair to Patton,” Virgil says, stepping in front of him. “We’ve undergone a lot of challenging circumstances, it’s not like shaving was a priority compared to staying alive.”

Kya turns her gaze on him, but Virgil doesn’t falter. He’s faced winters colder than her gaze.

“Who are you to tell an air bender what is proper?” she says. “Do you even bend?”

“I do not bend,” Virgil grits.

“Then you have no place speaking here.” Kya turns back to the Avatar. “I am surprised that one of your station would travel with those who are not in touch with the elements, but I suppose I cannot make your choices for you. If you wish to spend the night here, you may, and we will make arrangements for your training to begin in the morning.”

Virgil glances around the hall while Thomas and Kya speak, frowning when he catches sight of someone lurking behind a pillar. “Who’s that?” he says loudly. Kya frowns at him, but she turns to look at the figure.

“No one of your concern,” she says. “You are dismissed. Leave my presence.”

Thomas turns around and walks out. Roman presses close to Patton, who’s clearly trying very hard not to cry, and Logan turns his face in Kya’s direction. If he could see with his eyes, Virgil would suspect he was glaring at her.

As they reach the doors, Virgil lifts one hand up deceptively, as though he’s going to stretch or scratch his face. The knife hidden in his sleeve gleams against his inner wrist as he angles it to spy on what’s going on behind him.

The figure steps out from behind the pillar, dressed in the blazing crimson colors of the Fire Nation, and begins to speak in a low voice to Kya. She nods, face still impassive and stony. Virgil feels his heart drop straight through his stomach and tumble right off the mountain.

*~*~*~*~*

“Are you sure?” Roman asks, for the sixth time in as many minutes.

“I know what I saw!” Virgil snaps. “I travel with a Fire Nation prince, Roman, do you think I don’t know what fucking Fire Nation clothes look like?”

“Kya . . . she sold us out?” Patton says. He’s curled into a ball on one of the beds in the little tower room they’ve been allowed to inhabit. “I - I don’t -”

“Remus said that Father was trying to broker some kind of peace with the Air Nomads,” Roman says, “and this temple is closest to Fire Nation territory. What if . . . what if he wasn’t looking for peace at all?”

“You think he’s colluding with the Air Nomads?”

“We have no proof of that,” Logan says, running his hands along the stone wall. “I’ll tell you this, though. They locked the door behind us, and there’s two guards at the bottom of the stairs.”

“But we don’t have guards! We’re pacifists!”

“They do not read like Air Nomads to me,” Logan says. “They appear to be Fire Nation, judged on their stances and breathing patterns.”

Before anyone can say anything further, Thomas makes an aggressive “shhhhh!” and beckons them over to the window. The moon, newly full, is only a few days into its waning gibbous phase, and the courtyard below them is illuminated enough to see Kya and the Fire Nation man Virgil had seen earlier.

“Can you bend their words to us?” Thomas mouths at Patton. Even though he looks miserable, Patton nods, stepping forward lightly. Kya opens her mouth, and Patton begins to bend.

“Are you sure this is what the Fire Lord requires?” Kya says. “We do not wish to participate in this war, Ruon-Jian. We would ask that he leave us be, in peace.”

“The Fire Lord wishes nothing more than to accommodate the wishes of his most trusted neighbors and trading partners,” Ruon-Jian says. His voice is silky smooth and oily, and Virgil hates him immediately. “He of course understands your cultural traditions, and he had nothing but the utmost respect for you and your people. He admires that you share a goal with him, to protect your people and promote their interests and well-being.”

“However?” Kya says, tiredly.

“However,” Ruon-Jian says, “there have been rumors of a plot to overthrow our most gracious Fire Lord. Conspiracies against him, originating from his own people. The traitorous Prince Roman has, of course, been exiled, as has his betrothed, and the cursed Prince Remus has been sent on a fool’s errand with the disgraced General Emile, but you can never be too careful. You can understand why the Fire Lord might wish to keep tabs on those he suspects may be involved in such . . . foolishness.”

“What do you want from me, Ruon-Jian? What will it take for you to leave us?”

“The Fire Lord requires a sign, Head Monk Kya. A token of goodwill, as it were. In order to spare you and your people, he must know that you are not conspiring against him. You are currently harboring traitors to the crown, including the Fire Lord’s most reviled offspring and the Avatar. These are dangerous insurgents.”

“I can handle them.”

“We do not doubt your capacities, but the Fire Lord would hate to foist the responsibility of punishing and detaining his fugitives onto our most honored neighbors.”

“They are children, Ruon-Jian. How much damage can they possibly do?”

“Enough,” Ruon-Jian says, and his voice drops sharply. “Do not underestimate the Avatar. Do not underestimate the Fire Lord. The terms of the agreement stand before you, Head Monk Kya. Turn over the fugitives to me, and the Fire Lord will spare your temple. Otherwise, you will be engulfed in flames like your Southern brethren. We wouldn’t want that, would -”

Patton drops to the ground as though his legs have given out from under him, tears spilling down his face. “No,” he whispers. “No, they - he - they can’t have - they - the Southern Air Temple? They can’t have -”

“I am so sorry,” Roman says softly. “I know my father, and I know that guy down there. He’s the most ruthless of Father’s generals. He brags about things like that, he wouldn’t lie. He - he probably did, Patton.”

Patton bites back a sob. “They . . .”

“Kya is going to sell us out in order to protect this temple,” Virgil says. “We can’t stay here and get captured, but we can’t let the Fire Nation attack this temple, either. We need a plan.”

“What kind of plan?”

“We’re going to have to draw the Fire Nation away from the temple. If we escape, they won’t blame Kya, especially since there are Fire Nation soldiers guarding us, and they’ll have to give chase.”

“We’ll need a plan,” Logan says. Virgil grins, sharp and wolfish.

*~*~*~*~*

Predictably, things rapidly go downhill.

They make it out of the Temple, but they’re pursued so tightly by Fire Nation soldiers that they can’t immediately circle back to Remy for fear of getting him captured. Instead, they divert into the forest, splitting up to avoid detection.

Virgil ends up pulling Thomas along, gripping the Avatar’s wrist and tearing through the trees. He’s not accustomed to forests, but he’s travelled glaciers and snowdrifts before. Dangerous terrain is no stranger to him. Thomas stumbles along blindly, tripping every few steps, but Virgil just pushes forward.

They stop dead in their tracks when they hear someone scream. It’s high and frantic, and it sounds an awful lot like -

“Logan,” Thomas says. His voice rumbles deep in his chest like an earthquake, and his eyes begin to glow blue.

“No!” Virgil hisses, slapping Thomas to snap him out of the Avatar state. “Sorry, sorry - but you can’t do that, you can’t! You’ll draw attention, and you don’t have control of that state yet! You won’t be able to survive, you’ll get captured and we’ll never get you back!”

“That’s my brother,” Thomas says plaintively. “That’s Logan, I - I have to protect him, I -”

“I know, Thomas. But we have to protect you, too. Come on, come on, I -”

Virgil pulls Thomas after him, tearing through the forest. He stops a good distance away from his best estimate of Logan’s location and instead begins to pull Thomas after him into a tree. “You stay here.”

“Wh -”

Virgil slams his hand over Thomas’s mouth, pointing to the ground. There’s a heavy thudding noise, like booted feet, and Fire Nation soldiers rush past the tree. Once he’s sure they’re gone, Virgil uncovers Thomas’s mouth. “Stay here. If they catch you, it’s all over. I’m gonna go after Lo and the others.”

“And what if they capture you?” Thomas says.

“They killed my father, Thomas. They took the only family I had left. It’s taken me this long to build another one, I’m not going to let them take it away again.” He hugs Thomas tightly, quickly, before he can change his mind. Thomas is surprised, but he squeezes back just as tightly.

“Save them,” Thomas whispers, voice wavering. “Please, Virge.”

“I will. I promise.”

*~*~*~*~*

“There’s no need to be difficult, Roman.”

Roman stands, frozen, staring at a man he thought he left behind. Ruon-Jian has the clearing surrounded with his men; his tone is level and soothing, like he’s speaking to a frightened animal or a rambunctious child, like he’s presenting the only logical option. His face gives him away.

One of his goons stands behind him, holding Logan tightly. His massive arm is like a vice grip around Logan’s fragile torso, and he has a controlled flame-knife pointed at Logan’s throat. He’s holding Logan up so that he can’t touch the earth, and they managed to tie him up somehow. Without his bending, he looks like a blind, scared kid, struggling weakly. Patton is on his back on the ground, a spear point pressed against his throat, arms and legs bound with ropes.

“Come with us, and I promise I will be lenient towards your friends. Why you choose to travel with children is beyond me, quite honestly. Then again, most of your choices are . . . beyond me.”

“How did you find me?” Roman asks. He knows he should be fighting, knows he should be bending right now, but he can’t. The fire inside him has turned to ice as he stares at his captured friends.

“Your brother is not known for his subtlety, Roman. It was no secret that he was sending messages on your hawk. All I had to do was track it, and the stupid bird led me right to you.”

This is all Roman’s fault. He’s gotten his new friends captured, and he’s going to get his brother killed. “What did you do to Remus?”

“Nothing, yet. For all his lunacy, he’s popular with the crew. But once I bring you and your friend the Avatar back as proof of his treachery, I will have enough support to stage a mutiny. Your brother will die at sea in a tragic accident, and I will be the Fire Lord’s right-hand general.”

“Never,” Roman croaks, but it’s a weak protest and Ruon-Jian knows it.

“You are no threat to me, princeling. I will end you and your brother, and your father does not care enough to stop it.” Roman knows that it’s true. He knows he has to get them out of this situation before they all get killed, but there’s nothing he can do. He makes eye contact with Patton, trying to convey his apologies through his eyes alone.

Patton shakes his head, mouths It’s okay before the soldier holding a spear to his throat kicks him, and Roman hates himself just a little more. Ruon-Jian holds up a rope, and Roman starts to lift his hands to be tied up, and then -

Creak.

There’s a rustling noise around them, too pronounced to be normal forest noises, and Ruon-Jian frowns. “Did you capture the Avatar and the Water Tribe brat yet?”

Two soldiers stumble into the clearing, carrying a third between them. Both of the standing soldiers have a knife sticking out of them somewhere, and the sagging soldier looks barely conscious.

“What happened?” Ruon-Jian snaps.

“It - out of nowhere, the trees -” one of them pants.

“Before we knew what hit us, there were knives, and - and they attacked Shoji with some kinda weird punches and he couldn’t bend anymore! He collapsed, we’re lucky we got outta there alive!”

“There’s no such thing!” Ruon-Jian protests. “You can’t take away someone’s bending!”

There’s a sharp whistling noise, and one of the Fire Nation soldiers cries out in alarm. A slender blade sticks out of his arm, and his eyes roll up in his head as he collapses. “Poison?!” Ruon-Jian hisses. More sharp whistles, and four more Fire Nation soldiers fall. Ruon-Jian snarls and thrusts his fist forward, vaporizing the blade that hurtles towards him.

“Show yourself!” he roars. “Do not hide in the trees like a coward!”

“Who are you calling a coward?” a voice snarks back; familiar, but also lower than Roman is accustomed to. “After all, I’m not the one who felt the need to attack children in the woods. You have, what, a teenager and a pre-teen tied up like prisoners of war? Did you really think you couldn’t handle them? God, you’re pathetic.”

“Come down here and fight me like a man, then!” Ruon-Jian challenges.

“If I can defeat your minions so easily, what makes me think you’re any more of a challenge?” the voice taunts. “You’re not so bad.”

“Prove it!”

The trees all rustle at once. If Roman strains, he can faintly hear the lightest of footsteps and grunts as something leaps from tree to tree. Knives appear out of nowhere, and a soldier screams as one pierces clean through his hand. There’s a gleaming ribbon attached to the hilt, and it gets yanked back before anyone can process what’s happened.

“No match for me,” the voice lilts. “Too bad, so sad.”

Ruon-Jian screams and thrusts his arms out, creating a fireball that he hurls at the nearest tree. He keeps screaming as he burns all the trees surrounding the clearing, and Roman cowers down to avoid a serious burn.

“Where are you now, without your precious tree shelter to protect you?!” Ruon-Jian shrieks. “You’re nothing!”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” the voice says. A shadow steps forward from the wreck of the forest, knife glinting in the moonlight as they hold it between two fingers.

Virgil steps into the clearing, and Roman gasps a little. He can’t help himself. Ruon-Jian stares at him, and then he laughs.

“Another child? Pathetic.”

“I’ve taken down too many soldiers for you to call me that,” Virgil says coolly. “Also, destroying the forest? Not cool, asshat. The spirits are gonna beat your ass.”

“Spirits?!” Ruon-Jian snarls. “What can a spirit do to me?”

“Count yourself lucky that you won’t find out tonight,” Virgil says, “because I’m dishing out justice on their behalf tonight.”

“Where is the Avatar?”

“Safe from people like you,” Virgil says. “I disabled your soldier’s bending, and you think I’m not the biggest threat in this clearing?”

“You are a child!”

“So are the benders you have tied like dogs,” Virgil says. He looks angrier than Roman has ever seen him. “Let them go, and let Roman go too. Don’t think I won’t fuck you up.”

“What can you possibly do to me?”

Virgil spins a cord rapidly, and the knife on the end gleams. “You sound scared. Fine by me. Send your minions to fight me if you’re so scared. I’ll take them down and then I’ll come for your pansy ass.”

Ruon-Jian snaps his fingers and three Fire Nation soldiers step in front of him. He retreats to the edge of the clearing with the soldiers holding Logan and Patton, and Roman steps back as well. Virgil’s eyes gleam as he steps forward.

Roman sees the cord wrapped tightly around Virgil’s wrist as he throws one of the knives. It sticks in the shoulder of a soldier, who cries out in pain. Another soldier throws a burst of fire at the cord while it’s still stretched out across the clearing, and Roman winces, sure that Virgil is about to lose a weapon.

Instead, he smirks, yanking the cord and pulling the knife free. “What, did you think that I was going to fight a crew of Fire Nation soldiers and not use my fireproof weapons? Morons.”

Roman quickly realizes that Virgil has far more of an upper hand than he thought. He has a knife-on-a-string in each hand, and he wields them with terrifying efficacy. He spins the knives and uses them to keep the soldiers a good distance from his body. They retaliate with fire, but Virgil just evades them almost effortlessly with an impressive display of gymnastics.

“Stop playing around and kill him!” Ruon-Jian shrieks, presumably to his own men. Virgil rolls his shoulders back and grins.

“Great idea, idiot. I should stop playing, shouldn’t I?”

His knives disappear into his clothes and he runs straight towards the nearest soldier. They shout in surprise, and Virgil shifts to a stance that’s strangely similar to earth bending. He narrows his eyes and tilts his head slightly to the left and lays out a series of jabs, one-two-three-four-five, quick and staccato like Roman’s terrified heartbeat. The soldier wheezes in shock and collapses to the ground in front of Virgil.

“Use your fire bending! Set him ablaze!”

“I - I can’t,” the soldier says, “My bending - something happened, I can’t - I - it’s gone!”

Virgil grins, cracks his knuckles, and bares his teeth.

“Who’s next, motherfuckers?”

*~*~*~*~*

It’s short work after that, disposing of the soldiers.

The leader, that slimy Ruon-Jian, gets away, but Virgil does manage to disarm the rest of his men. He does his best to only use non-lethal combat tactics, but when he gets to the men that had tied up and hurt Logan and Patton . . .

Well, it’s not his fault if a knife ends up in their exposed throats.

It’s short work to slice through Patton’s binds, and he hugs Virgil fiercely the second he’s free. “That was so scary,” Patton breathes. “I thought they were gonna kill us - I thought they were gonna kill you -”

“Am I forgiven for swearing?” Virgil teases. Something wet seeps into his shoulder.

“Yeah, Virge, you’re forgiven.”

Logan is practically mummified in ropes on the ground, but he hasn’t made a single move to free himself. He just lays there, catatonic, and for a moment Virgil worries he’s been injured. “Lo?” Logan flinches, tears spilling down his face. “Hey, buddy, it’s me. It’s Virgil. Can I cut you free?”

Logan nods. “T - Thomas?” he rasps.

“I hid him before I came,” Virgil says. “We’ll go back and get him, Lo, I promise. Let me get you out of these . . .”

Logan stands up once he’s been cut free, stumbling forward one, two, three steps before collapsing. Virgil catches him, quickly sweeping him up into his arms. “Whoa! Are your legs sore from the ropes?”

“Y . . . yes.”

“Okay. I gotcha. Come on, I got you, you’re safe. I’ll take you to Thomas, okay?”

Logan tucks his head into Virgil’s shoulder, breathing shakily. Virgil presses his face into Logan’s hair reassuringly and politely ignores the way his shirt becomes damp.

*~*~*~*~*

Thomas throws himself out of the tree the minute he hears Virgil call to him. “Where’s my brother?! Logan, what happened?!”

Logan has been still and silent since Virgil cut him free, but now he shifts and reaches for Thomas, hands opening and closing rapidly in a childish gesture he would normally never use. Thomas pulls him into a tight hug, and Logan’s breath hitches as he sobs into Thomas’s neck. Patton presses his face against Thomas’s shoulder, and Virgil smiles.

“I’m sorry,” Roman murmurs. Virgil turns, confused.

“What? Why?”

“I froze. If I’d fought back, if I’d done - something, maybe - maybe this wouldn’t have happened. Ruon-Jian was right. I am a coward. I couldn’t stand up to my father for Dee and Remus, I couldn’t stand up to Ruon-Jian to save Logan and Patton, I . . .”

“You are not a coward,” Virgil says firmly. “You’re a victim of shitty circumstances and a shitty upbringing. Doesn’t make you any less of a person. It’s not your fault you were conditioned into this.”

“That would have been me,” Roman says. “If Father hadn’t threatened Remus and Dee . . . It would have been me.”

“But it wasn’t,” Virgil says. “And I refuse to believe that you would have stepped onto a battlefield full of innocents and decided to kill them. You’ve got a conscience, Princey, and you’ve got a good heart. You’ll be okay.”

Roman smiles, just a little, and touches Virgil’s shoulder. “Thanks, Vee.”

“No problem, Roman. What are friends for?”

“Are you finally admitting we’re friends?” Roman probably meant to be teasing, but his voice quivers. Virgil smiles softly, leaning forward and bumping his head against Roman’s cheek.

“Yeah, Ro. We’re friends.”

*~*~*~*~*

They make it back to Remy, waiting in his cave with Dragon. Roman writes a quick letter filling Remus and Dolos in on what happened, telling them not to reply and begging them to take care of Dragon, before sending the hawk off. Patton climbs onto Remy’s head, and they fly away.

Logan is huddled up against Thomas’s side, face blank. “Lo,” Thomas coos, “are you okay?”

Logan doesn’t speak, tucking himself more closely against Thomas. “Go to sleep, okay? I’ll keep you safe.” Eventually, Logan’s eyes slide shut, and Thomas exhales heavily.

“Has he ever done that before?”

“Once. After we escaped our home village, when it was on fire. He just . . . shut down. He’s never been good at dealing with emotions, so he doesn’t deal with them at all.”

“Not healthy,” Patton says from Remy’s head.

“You’re telling me. But I can’t force him to talk about his feelings. He deserves to work through things at his own pace.”

“I can respect that,” Virgil interjects, “but that kinda implies that he’s dealing with his feelings, doesn’t it?”

Thomas pulls Logan into his lap and shifts so his brother is cuddled against his chest. Logan exhales softly, mouth open in a little “O” as he breathes. He’s never looked younger than he does right now, except for maybe when he’d been tied up by Fire Nation soldiers.

“I have to take care of him. It’s my job. He’s the only family I have left.”

“The only blood you have left,” Virgil says. “Don’t think for a second that he’s your only family.”

“Who else do we have?” Thomas whispers.

“Me, obviously. And Ro, and Pat. You have us now.”

“He’s tellin’ th’tr’th,” Logan mumbles sleepily. “Don’eed bendin’ f’r that.” Thomas smiles at Virgil, watery and honest, and Virgil smiles back. It might be ragtag, but it’s his family, and anyone who threatens it has him to answer to.

#starshinewrites #avatar!au #thomas sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders

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darkelfshadow · 5 years

Text

Session Summary - 60

AKA “Caught Between A Rock And A Hard Place”

Adventures in Taggeriell

Session 60 (Date: 9th March 2019)

Players Present:

- Rob (Known as “Oloma”) Human Female.

- Bob (Known as “Sir Krondor) Dwarf Male.

- Travis (Known as “Sir Lee”) Human Male.

- Paul (Known as “Labarett”) Elf Male.

- Arthur (Known as “Gim”) Dwarf Male.

Absent Players

NIL

NPC

- (Known as “Naillae”) Elf Female. <Controlled by DM>

- (Known as “Nac”) Half-elf Male. <Controlled by DM>

Summary

- Sunday, 7th Calistril in the year 815 (Second Era). Spring.

- The party begin this session, in the early morning, still within the corridors of the Dark Pyramid Of Sorcerer’s Isle. Having just defeated a group of Cultists, Red Wizards and Thay warriors last session, the party begin resting in the torture room.

- Labarett begins the Ritual of Detect Magic, Nac begins the long Prayer Of Healing, Sir Krondor begins searching the torture cages (and finds a large red gem), Sir Lee stands solemnly by the frozen body of their lost comrade Shaemus, killed last session, Naillae is guarding one dark corridor, Gim and Sir Sir Lee are resting, whilst Oloma moves towards a door at the end of short corridor.

- Sir Krondor places the red gem into his pocket, and seeing Oloma heading towards the door says, “Don’t go poking around, we need to rest before exploring further.”

- Oloma does not slow down and as she reaches the door replies back, “Stop worrying Dwarf, I am only going to listen.”

- The arcane ward that had been placed just outside the door, by the paranoid Red Wizard Rorreth, alerts him. He stops his searching of the room and turns to one of his personal body guards, “See what they want. If the rabble out there are still complaining of lack of food, tell them to choose one to kill and eat. That should shut them up for a while.”

- The Thay Warrior nods, “My lord” and moves to the door.

- Just as Oloma nears the door and begins to listen, it swings open and the tall solid looking Thay Warrior, dressed in black armour and with the sigil of Thay sees Oloma. The Thay Warrior shouts, “Intruders!”

- Two Thay Warriors run out the open door and rush Oloma, each holding a long sword and short sword. Before the rest of the party can respond more enemies rush out of the open door, another warrior and a Red Wizard of Thay. The newly arrived warrior is holding a large gold horn and holds it up to blow towards the party. A mighty sound bellows out, making the very walls shake, the sound hits the party like a wave of force making the party fall back in pain and Oloma loses her hearing (Unsuccessful Save). Whilst the party is still reeling from the blast of sound, the Red Wizard of Thay casts a spell that summons a raging Wall Of Fire separating the party from each other. Sir Lee and Naillae are now cut off from the party, a tall wall of fire blocking them. Nac, Gim and Sir Krondor are surrounded by a wall of fire, the heat forces them back as they suffer serious burns, and Labarett and Oloma are now the only ones able to effectively attack the enemies being by themselves on the same side as the enemy.

- The battle rages on. Sir Lee and Naillae are effectively out of the combat. Sir Krondor, Nac and Gim are forced to fire arrows, bolts or magic through the blazing fire but are finding it hard to aim through the blaze. Oloma is now forced to use her psionics without restraint, expending vast amounts of her mental reserves in this dire situation, as Labarett in a wild rage starts to hack into the enemies one by one. The Veteran Warriors of Thay are proving deadly but thanks to Oloma’s Cloak of Displacement and Labarett’s rage, most of the blows are either avoided or resisted though they still take damage. The Red Wizard of Thay is casts several Magic Missile bolts into Oloma, her cloak providing no defence.

- When Labarett leaps past two of the Warriors to thrust his sword into the Red Wizard, killing the mage, the Wall Of Fire abruptly disappears. This frees up the rest of the party to now join the battle proper and turn the tide. With the combined force of the party, and without the powers of the Red Wizard to aid them, the Veteran Warriors of Thay are eventually killed.

- The party are now very badly wounded and burnt, Sir Krondor has suffered a serious burn and Oloma is only just standing. Nac again begins the Prayer Of Healing. Naillae returns from the dark corridor to inform the party that she heard sounds coming the corridor, she says, “What ever is down there heard our fight and will be ready.”

- Oloma and Sir Lee enter the small room revealed by the open door and find a study room that appears to have been ransacked and searched. It looks like the Cult were searching the room. A naked male Half-Elf, badly wounded, is tied up and seated in one corner. Sir Lee tries to convince the prisoner that they are here to help but the prisoner keeps insisting that they are simply another illusion of the Red Wizard, Rorreth, who has been torturing and questioning him for days.

- The prisoner bellows, “Kill me and be done with it Rorreth! I will not tell you anything to aid you or the dam Cult. You may kill me but the Cult will not succeed. Others like me will raise to defeat you.”

- When Sir Lee unties the prisoner and Nac heals the wounds of everyone, including the stunned and confused prisoner, finally he believes the party and reveals his name to be Thilren Sohj.

- When Nac hears the name he instantly moves towards the prisoner and pulls him to the side to speak privately. After a moment the pair move back to the party and Nac speaks, “I vouch for this man. He is the informant that Whelsea told us about.”

- Thilren moves back into the study and shows the party a hidden floor compartment that was holding a quantity of potions that Rorreth had secreted and also all of Thilren’s gear, which he begins to put back on. The party learn from Thilren that he has been posing as a member of the Cult Of The Dragon Queen, sending information back about their operations. He came to the Pyramid a week ago with a large group of Cultists, meeting another group of Cultists that had already been working on and restarting the mechanism of the Pyramid for a month. The Cultists initially befriended a tribe of Lizardfolk that lived within and around the pyramid but then betrayed them and killed half the Lizardfolk tribe when the tribe would not let them go up to the highest level of the pyramid, as the tribe believed the level cursed with evil spirits and only the Shaman of the tribe are allowed up there. Whilst the Cultists moved upwards, forcing their way through the Lizardfolk, upon arriving at the top level two of the Cultists who had been sick, suddenly had creatures burst through their chest and start attacking the Cultists. Thilren is not sure what the creatures are, as he never went to the upper level, but knows that the Red Wizards were very fearful of the creatures and were very hesitant to try to engage them. The Warriors of Thay launched an attack on the upper level but were forced back, losing half the numbers.

- Thilren searches the body of Rorreth and locates a hidden small stone triangle which he informs the party is the only way to exit the pyramid. They stole the triangle from one of the Lizardfolk Shaman and he knows that it has to used with some magical portal stone to activate the only way to exit the Pyramid. The Shamans could use the stone triangle from the level above to somehow open the Pyramid entrance and summon a magic portal that allowed travel in and out of the Pyramid.

- The rest of the bodies are searched and the valuables taken. Labarett takes possession of the golden horn.

- The party try to take the well made and expensive full plate armours of the Thay Warriors, by trying to place them piece by piece into the Bag Of Sharing but soon learn that won’t work, as the Bag does not seem to be working.

- Nac sighs rubbing his head, “Of course the bag doesn’t work! This pyramid has a strong arcane field around it, nothing can pass it. That’s why Thilren was not able to send a message out via arcane means. Teleporting, communication, planar portals, scrying, nothing will pass it. We’re stuck in here unless we can get to the portal stone Thilren described in the upper level. It must be keyed into the barrier around the Pyramid.”

- Once the party is ready, with Thilren now wearing his armour and somewhat healed, they leave the torture room and proceed down a dark corridor where two doors await. The party enter and search the small rooms beyond both the doors to locate two ancient storage rooms whose contents are ransacked. Only a small acid vial is located by Oloma.

- Pressing onwards, the party follow the corridor towards where Naillae heard the sounds earlier. The party arrive at a set of large double doors, just beyond a series of pillars. There is visible light coming from the edge of the double doors.

- Thilren tells the party that the Lizardfolk control the area on the other side of that door and that they are very hostile. The party move slowly towards the door, Naillae examines it and sees that there is a solid metal bar on the other side, and she suspects there has been placed objects on the other side to reinforce it.

- Sir Krondor whispers, “We should barge the door and rush in!”

- Naillae shakes her head, “Not with a metal bar on the other side. The door won’t move. I could remove the bar but it would make a loud noise, there’s no way to do quietly.”

- Oloma says in a low voice, “If I gave you an acid flask Naillae could you use that on the metal bar?”

- Naillae nods, “Yes. I could weaken the bar at the mid point and then we could barge through the door. We would surprise anyone on the other side.”

- Sir Lee, looking impatiently shouts out in a loud voice, “Hear me! I am Sir Lee. We are not your enemy. We have dealt with the Cult. Open the door!”

- Sir Krondor bows his head down, “There goes our surprise!”

- Oloma, trying to make the best of a bad situation, also shouts out, in Draconic, “Open the door. We are not the Cult. I am a follower of Pelor and here to help you.”

- Thilren starts to move towards one of the pillars, “The Lizardfolk know nothing about our politics, the Cult, or our gods, and we all look the same to them. You’re wasting your time, Rerroth said the same words of friendship, in Draconic, before he betrayed them and killed half their tribe.”

- The light flickers at the top of the door edge, as if one or more persons had moved to the upper part of the door to look out the small gap, and then suddenly a crocodile and swarm of poisonous snakes appear near the party. The snakes appear in the air above Gim and fall down upon him. The party begin a confusing and unfocused battle. They soon find themselves in a predicament in which they can not see their attackers, a pair of Lizardfolk Shaman, but the Shaman can see the party through a small gap at the door. Spell after spell is cast at the party, a Spiritual Weapon appears in the air and begins to attack Sir Krondor, multiple swarms of poisonous snakes and crocodiles are summoned into the small area, and worse still the ground erupts with vines and roots that grab onto the party making it almost impossible to try to move to breach the door. And soon the vines erupt into arcane flames that deal severe damage to those trapped within.

- Sir Krondor can see the panic in the party. Some of the party have managed to move back, having broken free of the flaming vines, and have taken up positions behind the pillars but are unable to counter attack. Some of the party can not free themselves from the vines and face the grim prospect of being burnt alive. Oloma, standing behind a pillar, keeps shouting out in Draconic to the door, telling the Lizardfolk that they are friendly.

- Sir Lee snaps at Oloma, “By the gods Oloma, leave it be! We aren’t going to convince them we’re friendly when we’re trying to bash down their door with weapons!”

- Sir Krondor bellows to Naillae, “Jimmy that metal bar off now! Gim to me! We breach the door once the bar is off!”

- Gim hears the sound of the Shaman running away on the other side of the door.

- Naillae and Gim, the flames dancing around them, move to follow the Knight’s commands. Soon the metal bar is off but the wooden door is proving hard to push, as the Lizardfolk have placed a large quantity of heavy barrels and boxes on the other side. Labarett runs into the flames and helps the two Dwarves to push at the door. With one final push, one side of the large double doors opens enough to allow entry as the boxes and barrels are pushed aside.

- Sir Krondor can see beyond the open door into a long, odd shaped room that is filled with ready and waiting Lizardfolk. As he leans out to get a better look, ten javelins are thrown at him, most hitting the side of the door.

- Without any fear, the Dwarf Knight races in, screaming a Dwarf battle cry. He leaps towards the two closest Lizardfolk and kills one instantly.

- Standing at the back of the chamber, a large muscular Lizardfolk warrior shouts in Draconic, “Kill them all!”

- Next to him, is one Lizardfolk Shaman, who looks at one of two side curtains. The curtain is flapping back into place, as if someone had just run through it. The Shaman calls out in Draconic at whom ever is running away, “Warn the others! The deceivers are back!”

- Oloma can see that one of the doors is now open and has watched Sir Krondor run inside. She sighs, “This had better work, this will use the last of my psionic reverses.” She concentrates her mind and focuses on a spot on the far side of the flaming vines and just past the open door. With a rush of air she teleports herself inside to be standing facing the large group of Lizardfolk. Using the last reserves of her psionics she unleashes everything she has left into a forward blast of energy, just missing Sir Krondor and one of the Lizardfolk. The energy wave strikes all the other foes, killing all the Lizardfolk except for their leader and their Shaman, both of which kneel down in pain from the attack.

- With the powerful psionic blast that hit the Shaman he loses concentration on his spell and the flaming vines disappear, allowing the rest of the party to move forward and through the door, except for Naillae who sits down onto the ground, badly burnt and injured, and urgently takes out a magical Healing potion.

- The injured Shaman and patrol Leader do not survive long under the combined onslaught of the party. When the last foe is killed the party are look around at each other. They are barely alive, badly wounded and burnt.

- Nac is sweating and panting, “I am almost out of all my divine spells. Don’t expect much healing from me.”

- Sir Lee says, “Well, with Oloma popping about and unleashing devastation like that we should be fine.”

- Oloma leans on a wall, catching her breath, “Unfortunately, that was the last of my reserves of power. I have almost nothing left, and would not be able to do anything of note like that again until we sleep.”

- Nac answers, “Sleeping in this pyramid is not an option. We need to press on and get out before we get corrupted like them.” As he says this he points to the Lizardfolk and the party now see that they are all showing the first signs of suffering from the magical mutation. Some of them have small extra fingers growing out at off angles and places, some have secondary or even tertiary mouths growing over the bodies, some have extra eyes beginning to form, and most of them have boils and lesions with oozing liquid all over their bodies.

- The party look at the dead Lizardfolk in revulsion.

- The bodies are quickly searched and a pouch of uncut, different coloured gems are located on the large patrol Leader. There are two curtained exits to this chamber. One leads to a small area that appears to be used as a latrine, which the party refuse to enter, and the other curtain leads to a wide long corridor. After Thilren scouts ahead, the party move forward and have the choice of either following the long bending corridor or entering a wooden side door.

- The party decide to go via the door, and after it is checked for traps by Naillae, Sir Lee uses a lit torch around the door, to check for danger and any combustable gases, when some of the party see small amounts of mist coming from the door edges.

- The door is opened and beyond is a swirling fog, so thick that only a very short distance can be seen into it.

- Labarett speaks, “That is no ordinary fog, see how it stays put and does flow out past the open door way. It must be of magic origin.”

- The party decide to slowly move into the fog, only able to see a few feet in front of them. They find another door, close to the entry door, and Labarett opens it to see a small room, with no fog. He enters it to find open boxes filled with an assortment of crudely made, natural looking implements, that he recognises as being typical of items used in tribal and ritual life. This must be a storage room for the Shamans.

- Moving onward, using the walls to guide them, they eventually make their way to another door. This time when the party step in front of it, the air begins to change colour and thicken, causing the people within it to cough and choke as poisonous fumes begin to fill their lungs.

- Sir Krondor decides to open the door and finding a small chamber with no fog he leaps in and then calls out for everyone to follow him. The party do so and once they catch their breath see a set of stairs leading up that are covered in thick webs. When the party begin to cut and burn the webs away, they see that the webs are slowly growing back.

- Nac says, “More dam magic! At that speed the webs will grow back to cover these stairs again in about five minutes.”

- Thilren looks up nervously and says, “What ever is up there, terrified the Red Wizards. I heard the fear in their voices when they spoke about this level. Twenty elite warriors of Thay were killed up there trying to deal with the threat.”

- Naillae looks around the tired and wounded party, “Is there any other way out of this pyramid?”

- Thilren holds up the stone triangle that he took from Rorreth, “No. We have to use this key in the portal stone above. Is that or we wait here to starve or be turned into mutants.”

- Naillae sighs, “So we’re caught between a rock and a hard place.”

- Sir Lee speaks, “Comrades, now is time for heroes to attack. We do not live simple lives. We are not simple men and women. If we are to die here today then let our deaths be glorious, and be sung by the Bards for ages to come.”

- Nac moves past Sir Lee and begins to cut away at the regrowing webs, “I would rather my life’s deeds be sung by paid whores, as I drink myself to a stupor in a comfortable brothel. I don’t intend to die today.”

- Sir Krondor moves to the front of the group and addresses them, “I also would like to avoid dying today. We are in this position because we have not been smart. We have been reckless, we need to approach the above position carefully and as a combined strength of arms. We can’t go up there half cocked!” Sir Krondor moves his eyes about the group, catching each of their gaze.

- The Knight Of The Anvil continues, “We need to work as a group! We are tired, injured, and low on the powers of Nac and Oloma which we have depended on greatly in the past. Some of us may not survive the threat we are about to face and if I die today, then I shall do so, knowing that I died for the lives of my friends and family. What more can I Dwarf ask for.”

- Gim smiles and puts a hand on Sir Krondor’s shoulder, “Aye cousin, if we die, we die together.” The two clink their weapons together and smile.

- The party all nod their heads, determination upon their faces, and slowly make their way up to the final level.

XP Allocation

Group - Combined (This is equally divided by the number of players who were involved)

Quests (Only quests that are completed or rendered undoable, during this session, are shown here)

- Rescue Thilren Alive = 1000 XP

- Exit 2nd Level of Pyramid = 800 XP

Creatures Overcome

- Veteran Warriors of Thay = 2800 XP

- Rorreth - Red Wizard of Thay = 2300 XP

- Lizardfolk = 900 XP

- Lizardfolk Leader = 1100 XP

- Lizardfolk Shaman = 450 XP

Individual (This is only given to that person and is not divided amongst all players)

Special Bonus (Outstanding Role Playing)

Nil

XP Levels and Player Allocations

Player : Start + Received = Total (Notes)

Rob : 63317 + 1392 = 64709 (Level up to Level 10)

Arthur : 47776 + 1392 = 49168 (Level up to Level 9)

Travis : 54133 + 1392 = 55525

Paul : 45661 + 1392 = 47053

Bob : 50546 + 1392 = 51938

NPC (Naillae) : + (696)

NPC (Nac): + (696)

#D&D #DnD #5th #5e #RPG #HOTDQ

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feywildatheart · 7 years

Text

Nenîth,

I finally have a few moments to sit and write you another letter! I’m sorry I didn’t write earlier to let you know I had reached Mir safely, but things got a little exciting before we’d even docked at the station.

I hadn’t even finished packing my things in preparation to disembark when sirens started going off throughout the Hammer of Antas and nearly scared me out of my skin. Cylla, I think I am too much your daughter: the first thing I did was grab my bow, before I ran out to see what the trouble was. I think I must have looked rather foolish to the weasel handler I came upon in the corridor, badly burnt but more distraught, I think, over her weasels who had been trapped within the walls while running their wires when something blew. Stars only know what she thought I meant to do with my bow there!

I confess I felt rather helpless in the situation, once I realized we weren’t being attacked or boarded or some other dire thing. Luckily there were two other passengers on their way to Mir who also came out to see what the commotion was about, and they proved much more capable than I. Once I’d discovered the problem (there were some wires within the wall that had broken, but were still close enough to spark across the gaps between them, and the weasels were stuck on the other side and too afraid to cross out to where they might escape, the poor dears), the other two were much more equipped than I to help them out of the situation.

One of them, named Elyn, told us that she used to be an engineer on another ship, and was able to maneuver the wires to make a path for the weasels to get to us, though they were still understandably reluctant. The other’s named Pika, and while she scarcely said two words to the rest of us, she spoke to the weasels! It’s a good thing I wasn’t the one who was holding the wires aside, for I think I’d have dropped them in shock. I asked her, afterwards, how she learned to do that, but she says she’s always been able to. (I asked, of course, if she could speak with Squirt, but it seems she can only do so with small beasts, and Squirt keeps growing bigger by the day. You’d scarcely recognize him as the pup I left with, if you saw him today. If he keeps growing like this, I think in a few weeks he’ll even be big enough to carry me!)

In any case, between the two of them they were able to get the weasels out safely, and their handler was much appreciative. One was a little burnt, but they were otherwise unharmed, and she was so grateful she even let me keep her from her duties for a time so I could give them all a good petting and a few treats from my rations. I think they deserved it, after their ordeal.

The way the sirens went off, I thought for sure we were about to die out there in the void, but everything seemed to settle down once we got the weasels out safe, and we reached Mir towards the end of the evening without any further incident. The other two and I all found lodgings in the same place, an establishment called The Crow that was recommended to us. We met the proprietors, and they charged us a reasonable rate for room and board, or at least I think they did. I’m getting better than I was when I left, but I’m still not always sure precisely what fair prices for things are. I didn’t have to pay a surcharge for Squirt, though, which inclines me to think well of them.

I’ve traveled all this way with my hopes pinned on meeting this Hiuda and joining the Silver Tree and gaining work exploring the uncharted planets out here, but I thought my hopes dashed before I’d even met her, for it turns out that one of the proprietors knows Hiuda, or knows of her, enough that when I mentioned my interest he said that the Silver Tree is only looking for groups to send down, not individuals. I didn’t suppose that Squirt and I together count as a group, but it turns out the other two have come to Mir searching for information, and the price Athan exacted from them was to join me when I presented myself to Hiuda, that they might deliver a package for him when she sent us down on our first job to Nosirion-1.

He must know her, to know that she would send us to the same place he needed his package delivered. But then, he couldn’t have known we would have gained her approval, so perhaps he’s simply lucky, or has a great deal of faith in those he scarcely knows.

It’s a good thing he warned me I would need a group, though, and sent us all together, because in order to gain her approval we had to prove ourselves capable of surviving what Nosirion might throw at us, by facing off together against a set of animated armor. I held my own well enough, I think, but I doubt I’d have done half so well without the other two there to aid me. He only hit me once, but that was nearly all it took.

You will not like what I’m about to tell you, I think, but I promised when I left that I would tell you everything, and I don’t think you meant only everything that would please you. The armor only hit me once, but it did so hard enough to make my head swim. I was scarcely able to stay on my feet while the others kept fighting. Pika’s as devastating with her fists as I am with a weapon, maybe more so. She punched the armor so hard she set it ringing, though I’m sure I’d have broken my hand on it if I’d tried the same. I don’t want you to worry for me, though. It was only a trial, and I’m sure the Silver Tree wouldn’t have let any true harm befall us, though they’d surely have turned us away from their ranks if we’d failed and then my long travels out here would have been for naught. I thought I’d fall, but Elyn, bless her, healed me entirely before I could even decide whether to fight or retreat. And then she spoke words as sharp as any blade, and felled the thing with insults alone. She says she’s a bard like you, Darna, though I’ve never seen you cut a creature down with little more than a harsh word. Is that a talent that you’ve hidden from me all these years? I can’t imagine you speaking harshly to anyone.

We did well enough together to earn Hiuda’s approval. She’s sending us down to the surface of Nosirion-1, to where an enclave of scientists are charting the planet’s surface and cataloguing its wildlife. I am sure the skills you’ve taught me will hold me in good stead there — I’m far more equipped to handle a wilderness than I am a sparking wire, after all! Though — more news you won’t like to hear — she’s also asked us to keep a particular eye out for signs of a Silver Tree ranger who’s been missing for nearly a month. I am sure you can imagine how my thoughts turned to that legionnaire’s insignia that I’ve carried with me all these years. Hiuda asked us to find his body, or his remains, but I can’t help but hope to return to her with happier news. Surely one trained ranger could survive a month in the wilderness better than a legionnaire who stumbled through a Ring and got himself lost in the Feywild.

I’m writing you this from the ship carrying us down to Nosirion-1, so we should have more information once we’re planetside. Hiuda says the job should take no more than a week or two, so I expect I’ll be able to write to you again then, if not sooner. In the meantime, I must ask: Have either of you ever heard anything about an unregistered Gnomish ship named the Wrath of Procyon? It’s a ship Elyn was on that crashed, and she’s come here to Mir searching for information on it. Helping her seems the least I can do, when she’s already proved instrumental in helping me accomplish what I’ve come here for. And Pika, too, is looking for information: do either of you know anything of political structures on Rugira Prime?

It seems a longshot to ask, when I know precisely where you both have been for the past several decades, and it’s certainly not on Rugira Prime or unregistered ships. But perhaps if you don’t know, you’ll know someone who does? If you could ask around, I’d very much appreciate the opportunity to help out my companions and return the favors they’ve already done me.

There’s a museum on Mir, though it’s small, and we were able to take a tour yesterday before leaving for Nosirion-1. It was good to learn the history of the place. I’ve been told there’s an atrium as well, though we didn’t have the chance to visit yesterday, for Pika was growing restless with our sightseeing and wanted to return to The Crow, and it seemed only fair to accompany her, when she had been so patient accompanying us. I look forward to the opportunity to tell you all about it, though, upon our return to Mir.

I am sending you all my love, as well as a picture I’ve just taken of Squirt, so you can see for yourselves how much he’s grown. Can you believe this is the same pup who was halfling-sized only a few months ago? I could almost carry him then, and soon he’ll be carrying me.

Please be safe, and try not to worry about me. Everything out here is vast and strange, but it’s good. I feel settled in my skin in a way I hadn’t for years, back home. But I know you’ll worry anyway, so I promise, I’ll write to you again the very moment I return to Mir.

I love you both, with all I have.

Maliah

#in character: letters #location: mir #episode 1 #person: elyn #person: pika #the silver tree #the wrath of procyon #in character

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adenil-umano · 7 years

Note

spones with Spock's vulcan lyre?

[Also on AO3.

Prompts // Patreon // Ko-Fi]

The night the end of the world rained down upon his ears Leonard was sleeping fitfully on a cot in the break room.

It began first with sirens. Long accustomed to hearing the comings and goings of emergency vehicles Leonard paid no mind until the first detonation struck. It shook the building and he tumbled from bed, half-asleep. Dust collected in his hair at the second detonation.

He went to his patients because he had nowhere else to go. He stood over them, comforted them, protected them, and then finally when the hospital began to shake and fill with smoke he wheeled them out one after another after another. People who were more than just their broken bones, stitched bellies, bandaged heads. Who were more than the crying of panic and the screams of terror. He went back in. He came out with an old woman who fell to the ground beside a young man with a broken leg. They could not have met previously, yet they clung to one another with a fervent need. The building burned and his lungs filled with black smoke. He went back in. He came out. He went back in.

He did not come out.

Later, much later, when running made his lungs scream in agony he would blame this smoke.

He awoke the morning after the end of his world to cool hands on his forehead. A damp cloth. A pool of water at the corner of his eye. The hands brushed hesitantly over the soft skin lidding his eye, wiping away the smoke residue that still clung there.

Leonard was too weak to move and so he lay there, listening. He could hear the figure moving. The cloth plunged in water. The torrential downpour as it was wrung clean. Then the shuffling movement and the hesitant breathing of his savior.

He opened his eyes.

The other man was not human. He was Romulan, as far as Leonard could tell. He’d only ever seen pictures of them–grainy and blurry at bad angles. But the ears. The ears told the story. The man merely looked at him and said nothing.

He closed his eyes again and thought, I’m going to die.

His second breach of consciousness on the disturbingly sunny afternoon of that first day of the new broken world was quite different.

The Romulan made him sit up and drink a cup of water. “Did you nurse me back to health just so you could poison me?”

The Romulan arched an eyebrow. “It is no poison. If I wished for you to die there would be more logical ways to accomplish such a goal.”

Leonard had to agree and so he sipped from the tin camping cup. Now that he was semi-vertical he could look around at where he’d found himself and he didn’t like what he saw.

They were in a hollowed-out shell of a burnt building. At first Leonard assumed it was the hospital, but the look of it was all wrong. This was a house, he realized, a house which must have burned far longer ago than last night. The roof was cave in and at certain points Leonard could see plants and grass poking through the soot layering the ground. A stream of sunlight fell through the slotted beams of the roof and Leonard had the sudden thought that somewhere in the galaxy people were happy. Somewhere someone was getting married, or singing, or dancing. But not here.

“What is this place?”

The Romulan looked about as if he had never noticed the building before. “My home.”

“Uh-huh. What are you, Romulan? Some kind of leftover from the attack? We must have gotten a few shots back at your armada.”

“I am certain Earth’s defenses did indeed return fire, but it is unlikely they were successful in destroying even a fraction of the armada. Regardless, I am not a Romulan.”

“Those things you call ears beg to differ.”

He reached up and touched one. “I understand your error. I am a Vulcan.”

“Never heard of ‘em.”

“We are an insular species. We do not have your warp capability. Now, rest.” He pushed Leonard back to lying down. “I will explain everything later.”

Leonard wanted to argue but he was already exhausted and winded from just their brief conversation. He told himself he wouldn’t sleep, wouldn’t let his guard down, and he was still telling himself that when he woke later up that evening.

Spock was his name. He gave Leonard that much, but his promise to explain everything never materialized.

“We must leave this place,” Spock said. “Romulan foot soldiers are sweeping the area.”

“Now wait a minute! I’m not going anywhere until you get to explaining what’s going on.”

“I do not know why the Romulans chose this moment to break the treaty.” Spock was packing a backpack with his supplies: a first aid kit, camping pots and pans, a stove, some food packs, a sleeping bag. “If you are referring to how I brought you here, I went to the hospital to seek medical aid. When the strike hit I was there.”

“Medical aid? Are you hurt?” In spite of himself, Leonard scanned Spock for any sign of injury. He couldn’t see anything, but who could tell with a Romulan–or a Vulcan, if that’s what he wanted to call himself.

“I am not. The need for a doctor has passed. Now please, we must leave.”

Leonard could tell Spock was about to leave without him and so he scrambled to his feet. Spock shouldered the backpack and then picked up another large black plastic case and swung it over his shoulder. Leonard wasn’t sure what was inside it, but it must have been important judging by the way Spock protectively curled one arm around it.

They ducked through the broken door frame and Leonard squinted in the half-light of the moon. They were in the woods. He didn’t really know the surrounding landscape of the city, but he knew that the woods were pretty far off. There was a dilapidated car in the driveway and Spock began to fill it with gasoline from a red container. And to the left of that was—

Leonard blinked. Fresh dirt, recently overturned. Perhaps five feet of soil. Someone was buried there.

The person formerly needing a doctor? Or something more insidious? And how had they died, anyway?

He was starting to grow more uncomfortable with the situation but he didn’t know what else to do but follow Spock into the car. There was a war on and he didn’t know where he was. He had no food and just his grimey, stinky scrubs between him and the elements. He basically had to follow Spock if he wanted to stay alive. He would keep an eye out for escape, but for now he couldn’t risk just running.

Car gassed, they loaded up, and it took Spock three tries to get the engine to turn over. The world had moved on to shuttlecars decades ago but the streets were still passable if you drove slow. At least, Leonard thought, the Romulans probably wouldn’t be looking for cars.

Spock took them into the night. He rolled down the windows so the air fluttered in, drying out Leonard’s eyes and leaving him cranky. But he could tell Spock was listening with those long ears of his; listening for foot soldiers or passing airships. Maybe Spock was a defector, Leonard thought. Or maybe it was a trap.

He trailed his fingers through the passing air outside the car, letting the wind catch the palm of his hand. Leonard thought of the fins of a shuttlecar and wondered when Earth’s counterattack would begin. He hadn’t seen anything yet.

They drove until the sun peeked above the horizon and then Spock drove the car into the ditch. The two of them piled tree branches over it. It wouldn’t fool a foot soldier, but from the air they were camouflaged. Then Spock started a fire in his camping stove and rehydrated some eggs.

Leonard watched Spock eat first and wondered if Romulans could be poisoned as easily as humans. But he was hungry, and so far Spock hadn’t tried to harm him. He decided to eat, tucking away with haste once he had his first taste. He hadn’t eaten in almost two days, he realized. He was starving.

“Tell me why you were at the hospital.”

Spock looked at him, and then away. “As I told you, I was seeking medical assistance.”

“Someone died.”

“Yes.”

Spock wouldn’t say anything more. When Leonard pressed him he merely got up and crawled into the back of the car. He lay down on the seat and held the black plastic case against his chest. Leonard left him alone.

He tried to walk away but there was no where to go. They were deep in the middle of nowhere. Once he saw a vehicle pass overhead and he thought about waving to it, but instead he hid. Better the devil he knew, he thought. He walked back to the car and napped fitfully in the front seat. He wondered if the old woman had gotten away. He thought about Jocelyn and Joanna, three states away. He wondered if Spock would take him there if he asked.

When Spock woke up he did ask. Spock didn’t answer, but Leonard was pretty sure they started heading a different direction once night fell.

When they crossed state lines they got their first radio signal.

Leonard hadn’t even realized the radio was on. It must have been dialed too low for him to hear. But suddenly Spock pulled over to the side of the road and turned up the knob and a grainy voice filtered in.

“–vivors recommended to take to the countryside. There are better chances of survival there. If you’re caught in a city and someone says they have heard of an evacuation plan do not listen. Repeat: do not follow anyone who claims there is an official evacuation. There has been no official word from the Federation or Starfleet regarding evacuation. Rumors of evacuation may be a Romulan plot intended to—”

Spock pulled back onto the road and they listened to the dire report on constant repeat until the voice faded out again, some three hundred miles later.

“Maybe he was lying,” Leonard said, mostly to himself.

“It is possible.”

Leonard turned to look at Spock’s profile, sharp and distinct in the darkness. Spock drove without lights and claimed his vision was superior. Leonard hoped to hell he didn’t drive them right into an ambush. “You’d know, wouldn’t you?”

“As I have said I am not Romulan.”

“Then why do you look exactly like them?”

Spock was quiet for so long that Leonard thought he’d gone mute again. But then, “I do not know.”

They left it at that.

They crossed into Georgia just as the sun rose and had to quickly find a spot to make camp. They parked the car behind a burnt-out farmhouse and hoped no Romulans came to check that the job was done.

Leonard was afraid to look inside the house but he couldn’t stop staring at it. “What do they want with us?”

“Slaves, most likely. Romulans are not known for colonizing even conquered planets.”

Leonard spun around. “You shut your mouth!”

Spock blinked. “You asked, Doctor.”

“We aren’t conquered, you son of a bitch!”

Spock winced bodily. “Your people are dead.”

Leonard swung at him. Spock barely dodged, but the second swing didn’t come as much of a surprise to him. He caught Leonard’s arm and twisted it, and Leonard screamed in his face, cursed at him, tried to bite him. He tried to kick Spock and Spock knocked his legs out from under him and they went down in a tangle of limbs. They scuffled in the dirt until Spock had him pinned to the ground and Leonard realized he was sobbing.

Spock held him tightly, but they were no longer fighting. “I know,” he said. “Nam'uh hayal. Ni'droi'ik nar-tor, tushah nash-veh k'odu, ni'droi'ik nar-tor.”

Leonard didn’t understand what was happening. He sobbed into Spock’s shirt as Spock rocked him, muttering into his hair those alien words again and again.

Tushah nash-veh k'odu. Ni'droi'ik nar-tor.

He awoke later in the backseat of the car. He cracked open his eyes and saw Spock sitting in the passenger’s seat, the black plastic case on his lap. Spock ran his hands over the cracked plastic, long fingers catching on the indentations. Leonard closed his eyes again, exhausted. He slept.

They had not seen an air vehicle since the one Leonard had spotted their first night on the run. Leonard thought this was a good sign. Spock told him that the Romulans had likely taken all the slaves they could and would leave the rest of Earth to pick up the pieces so that they might return later, perhaps in one hundred years or so.

Leonard was too tired to argue.

When they arrived in Atlanta Leonard refused to let himself hope. The road here was less passable, and it took Spock several hours to pick his way around the city to the suburban sprawl just on the other side. There Leonard realized he was a fool. He had let himself hope.

There was nothing for them there. Not a person in sight. No signs of human life. Each identical house stood empty, hollowed out. They parked beside Jocelyn’s house and Leonard stepped out of the car. His feet carried him automatically up the walk. The door was ajar.

He stepped inside. “Jocelyn? Joanna?”

Silence.

He searched the house with Spock trailing behind him like a damned shadow. Joanna’s room was like a snapshot in time. As though she’d just stepped out to see her friends. The bed was unmade. There was an open textbook on her desk. On the wall was a poster of that ustart Commander Kirk that was always making the news. Leonard had hoped that meant she’d pursue a career in Starfleet someday; more likely, it was because fourteen-year-olds thought space travel was romantic.

He tore the poster off the wall. His heart thudded against his chest as he shredded it, fingernails digging against plaster, and then he stared in horror at what he’d done. He’d destroyed Joanna’s poster. She loved that poster.

Leonard was suddenly outside, heaving into the bushes. He felt a hand on the back of his neck, soft fingers gently rubbing. Soothing him. He gasped for breath and sobbed as Spock curled around him, holding him and rocking him. Weak, Leonard turned into him and held back as hard as he could. The touch was violent; he would have hurt Spock if he could. But Spock was impervious to his anger.

Spock lead him to one of the deck chairs and helped him sit down. Softly, Spock brushed his hair from his face. His touch lingered as though he were crudely checking Leonard’s temperature.

“I’m a mess,” Leonard said.

Spock tilted his head to one side, quizzical. “I am sorry they are not here.”

Leonard gasped. He sucked in a deep breath. “I-I don’t know what to do.”

“I will get you some water. I will be back in less than a minute.”

Leonard watched him go, counting the seconds until he’d need to start panicking. The counting distracted him just enough that the gaping darkness inside him close for a brief moment.

Spock returned in fifty seconds.

He had his backpack and his plastic case. He set both down and rooted through the backpack, coming up with a bottle of water and a tin cup. He offered it to Leonard and Leonard guzzled it in one long swallow.

Leonard swiped at his face with his sleeve. “Spock, I need you to tell me something.”

Spock tipped his head to the side again as though he needed to focus all his energy into listening. “Yes?”

“What’s in that case?”

Slowly, Spock turned and looked at it. He was always carrying that damn thing around like he was terrified of losing it, but now he seemed terrified that it existed. His eyes were wide with concern. He didn’t say anything.

“Don’t close up on me,” Leonard begged. “Please, Spock. Not now.”

A moment of deafening silence, then another, and then Spock shook himself. He pulled the case over and opened it.

It was an instrument.

Spock didn’t take it out of the case. Leonard reached out and touched the strings, his pinky catching against one and drawing out one haunting vibration. The note hung in the air for longer than seemed possible. An echo.

“Do you play?”

“Not anymore.” Spock closed the case decisively. “It was my mother who always encouraged me.”

“Is she…” Leonard trailed off, unable to complete his sentence. He didn’t need to. The look on Spock’s face told him enough. He reached out and took Spock’s hand. Spock was hot to the touch. “I’m sorry.”

“As am I.”

Leonard swallowed heavily. “We should… Can we get out of here?”

Spock nodded. They gathered up their things and packed up the car. Spock disappeared into the house and came out again carrying several bottles of water and a bag filled with canned food. Leonard didn’t have the energy to protest that Jocelyn and Joanna might need that. He just watched Spock place them in the trunk and slam the door shut.

The pulled back onto the road and Leonard let his arm trail out of the car, fingers dancing through the air. He looked up at the starry night sky and wondered if there was anyone up there having a good day.

He hoped so. He closed his eyes, and slept.

#spones #spock #leonard mccoy #adenil writes #post-apocalypse #romulans #au where Vulcans never came to Earth during the warp tests

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