Quendalon/Session15ZeraInterlude
The wind sang in its plaintive moan, setting tree branches to dance and the edges of Zera Thisse's cloak whipping about his ankles. The Iron Tower was a dull finger reaching to the sky only scant miles away. Its shadow fell even here, if only in a figurative sense. Zera knew that only trouble lay in wait for them inside those cold, dimly-glinting walls.
Day had just broken, and the others were beginning to rouse and go about the morning chores. Everything was done in silence, as the woods between here and Iron Tower were swarming with the soldiers of Tul Tuin. Last night, Li had uncharacteristically broken a twig during their nighttime scouting mission, and now the soldiers knew that something was amiss. A difficult mission was now bordering on impossible.
The plan they had decided on was perilous and would have far-reaching implications. For that matter, so would the release of the imprisoned Fae Queen Cessair. However, he had sworn an oath to the Lady Idris, and Thorwald had agreed as well. In return for this, they would receive the good Lady's aid in the struggle against the Deathlords of Kaihan… for whatever that was worth.
Thorwald was correct, damn it all. Those called Anathema, those who were reviled by all and aided by few - all those individuals truly had was their word. All else could be taken away, even life, but honoring your word was a right that no man or beast could deny. It was a moral quandary at best, as Zera knew that once Cessair was free, things would get worse before they got better. He had no idea what possessed him to make that oath, but that hardly excused him now.
He sighed and leaned against the thick trunk of a venerable oak tree. As the others kicked out the fire and gathered bedding into their packs, he found himself thinking strange thoughts… thoughts of a city and the surrounding countryside that he may never lay eyes on again. Thorns.
Davram Thisse was not the tallest man, but he had a way about him that commanded both respect and a certain admiration. He was a merchant's guard when he was a young man, but when Zera and Shara were born, he settled into the simple life of woodsman and part-time tracker. When wolves raided the farms that clustered around the great metropolis, it was often him who was called. When Zera stole a goodwife's apple pie or Shara lied to her mother, he did not spare the switch.
Despite his inherent hardness, it went without saying that he was a good man. Kari Thisse was a villager and farmer's daughter, and fell in love with his rough features and strong hand. Together, they brought the children up with a strange combination of street savvy and woodland lore. Zera and Shara could navigate the alleys and markets of Thorns as easily as they could track a rabbit or build a lean-to.
The boy was thirteen when Davram handed him his first bow. He had carved it in secret and hidden it in the woodpile, until the boy's nameday. Zera took to it instantly, and never forgot those days spent learning its use. He realized at that point that he would do the same work as his father, and that it would be all he ever wanted out of life. To be half the man Davram was would be a greater accomplishment than becoming a Scarlet Emperor…
The thief came not long after his nameday, maybe a few weeks. Something about his demeanor pulled at Zera's heart. He needed help, and somehow the soldiers would hurt him unless something was done. So, Zera lied to the men, led them into the woods, and was beaten for his troubles. When he returned, the house was stripped of anything remotely valuable. His parents never blamed him, but he lost a piece of himself that day. He saw what helping the supposed "unfortunates" earned you, and swore to never be taken advantage of like that again.
In the coming months, he also learned what it was like to struggle. His father took up caravan guarding again, and was gone a great deal of the time. His mother found work as a seamstress in the city, and even Shara was forced to clean the scullery at the Prancing Pauper Tavern. He took up his father's woodsman trade, and the extra tracking jobs that came along. It wasn't long before he discovered how much better than Davram he was.
By eighteen, Zera had already made a bit of a name for himself. It started when the caravan of a dignitary traveling from Chiaroscuro caught fire. The Diplomat's daughter had knocked over a lantern while playing, and the wagon of provisions quickly caught. As the guards and aides rushed about, she ran off to avoid getting in trouble, and suddenly found herself in the woods… alone and quite lost.
The nearby villagers had the guards call on Davram, and they were disappointed - forced to settle for his son instead. Zera grabbed his bow, set off, and returned with the little girl in a matter of hours. He barely received thanks for his trouble, never mind a bit of jade, but the wheels had been set in motion.
Davram returned from his latest travels to find that his family had actually moved into the city proper, and his son had not only accomplished that feat, but was able to afford an apartment of his own.
This was to be for the best, because Davram had received a severe injury to his swordarm, a lucky shot from a now-deceased bandit, and his guardsman days were officially over. Zera quickly took up the slack, and became the provider for his family, finally freeing his mind of the guilt of past mistakes.
Eventually, his parents no longer had to work at all, and Shara's razor-sharp intellect found better work - she was now scribing for the local apothecary. Several years passed and Zera continued to impress clients with his skill at tracking, and at archery when bandits roved too close to the farm villages.
He met Mara at a spring Festival, a lovely dark-haired girl dancing alone to the tune of a fiddler and a piper. Drums beat and children ran laughing all around him. The street was filled with the smell of cooking food and the sound of merrymaking. He joined the dancing, and several hours later, he and Mara settled into a comfortable, drunken sleep together.
As much as she grew to love him, his ability to trust others was still limited, and he never let her get as close as she deserved. He saw other women and his lies were always accepted, even though Mara was not as dim as Zera believed. It was a chaotic, slightly selfish existence, but it was all that Zera ever wanted to know.
Then, in that fateful evening of his twenty-third year, the Juggernaut crawled up from the south, and his whole life changed. Only flashes of that horrible night came back now, pushing silver coins in Mara's hands and telling her to flee. Racing through the streets, all riots and smoke and flames, to his parents' home. His father bleeding on the floor. Those men, doing unspeakable things to his mother and sister. The sudden rush of heat and light and pain, and the beautiful and terrible voice in his head. The flashes of his knives. Dead men laying about the room, his father dying in his arms. The awful swordswoman in the green jade with the daiklave, dodging his arrows and spouting black flames. Tepet Aekino and Cathak Nerin. The nameless woman and child…
Zera shook his head, clearing the remnants of daydream. Mara's pleading eyes still lingered in his head, and the last whispers of his dying father in his ears. Davram held on long enough to ask Zera to make him proud, to ensure safety for his family.
Yes, he had given his oath to do that, as well. He had failed miserably, there. He didn't even know where his mother and sister were. He had no idea what had become of Mara. What a strange thought, here in the hours before fufilling an oath that meant much less to him. After all that had happened - after all the death and fruitless search for answers or even some kind of purpose.
Now he and his brothers had the power to make the world safe, and not just for his family. For everyone. He had an obligation and a purpose, and it was all thanks to dead warriors named Kuro and Blessed Wind. They had done the world a great disservice, and Zera would see those wrongs righted and the misdeeds of Deathlords and the corrupt Realm paid back with the justice of the Unconquered Sun.
He and his brothers had made bad decisions, and had brought harm on the people of this district. When that was set to rights, he would find his family and Mara both, and bring them somewhere that the growing chance of death and tragedy could not touch them. That was an oath he swore to himself, right then and there.
Thorwald laid a massive hand on his shoulder.
"It is time, Zera Thisse. We must be going."
Zera nodded at the big man, perhaps his closest living friend. He and the other two who stood watching him, expectant. He would say the sky was green if Tepet Aekino declared it blue, but Zera understood how much love he felt for the man at that moment. He had let Mara and his family down, but he would die before doing the same to his new brothers and sister.
Without a word, he moved into the shadows of the tall trees, his companions only a step behind.
