Quendalon/Session16ThorwaldInterlude
Thorvald dreamt and in his dreams found demons, bloodlust and slaughter.
These things were not unwelcome. But as he slept he soon learnt that even in dreams, there was little shelter from hidden truths. He reeled as ancient memories flooded his mind; a mind whose formidable defence finally gave way under the stress of fatigue, battle and bitter remembrance.
He awoke with a start. He looked out in the night sky and saw that Zera's watch was about to end. It was to be Li's turn to watch, but Thorvald knew he wouldn't be able to sleep again for quite sometime and Li was in the midst of another one of the terrible dreams that plagued her.
I will take the next watch, he resolved. The better to make sure when she wakes she'll be better prepared for the last watch. Besides, it is fitting that she be awake to greet the dawn.
As he rose Thorvald instinctively grabbed for his blade but grimaced as his hand closed around the hilt. For a moment he'd forgot his old blade was gone. It now lay in the ruins of the Tomb of Blessed Wind and Kuro the Raven, lost forever. When he lay wounded, his companions found a new one in its stead and it was this blade he now grasped and for a second he felt ashamed. This new blade that Aekino named 'Daiklave' was a poor replacement. It was smaller than the old. Too small, and it looked wrong and felt wrong in his grasp. His old blade had served him all his life. It was long, terrible and broad and took two hands to wiled. This new blade was short and its hilt was barely large enough for Thorvald's massive hand. And where his old weapon was wrought of cold iron taken from the Black Mountain, this was made with a substance called jade, a white stone that from what Thorvald had seen was used to make jewelry for highborn women. And where his old blade was plain and unadorned, this one had strange carvings hardly depicting fearsome things but of flowers and vines and all sorts of foolish pointless things that had nothing to do with battle.
"It is a good blade, brother." Li had told him earlier. "And it will serve you well."
Feh!! What does she know!!! Thorvald thought
"Is she dreaming again?" Zera Thisse asked as he came near the campfire.
Thorvald nodded. Zera looked down at Li for a long time but said nothing. This close to the fire, Thorvald could see that Zera was in a bad way. His lean face was drawn long and gaunt from hunger, exhaustion and wounds. Slowly, he lay down to sleep next to Aekino who slumbered softly, but it was clear he was more concerned for his sister than with getting much needed rest.
Thorvald stood and took position just outside the camp but near enough to the fire so that he could see by its light. Yet as vigilant as he was he couldn't help but look from time to time at Li as she twisted, turned and spoke, her voice barely a whisper. From his vantage point the light of the fire cast strange shadows across her face and made her look at one moment like a grim spectre and the other a frightened child.
Thorvald turned away. These dreams were nothing new. Li had them since he had known her. They came. They went. But as of late they were stronger, more frequent and terrible in their aspect.
Li of Orchid. Out of all three of his sworn circle-mates, he had traveled with her the longest. Before all four were united, Li had journeyed from her home in the east to the distant north and the home of his people. He didn't know why he trusted her then though the reasons were clearer now.
On the day Thorvald came into the sun's power, Li was there. That day was a fey one and his memories of it were very dim. He remembered the sense of gloom and apathy that surrounded the Clan before his final battle. For years the Fair Folk at the Edge of Creation were growing bolder and their attacks more frequent. Scouts sent into the deep tracts did not return until finally, the Clan raised a warband to venture out into the unknown to learn what befell them. Forty men left, two returned; and they spoke of a huge force of Fair Folk making its way down the mountains.
No one was surprised. Ill omens were cast in the sky for many long turnings. He and his people knew the truth of it. At long last after over a millennia, their clan was finally about to suffer its ancient doom: annihilation at the hands of the Fair Folk.
But it was not meant to be. Though outnumbered 20 to 1 his people won. Clan History would say that on the day of the battle the Storm Clan fought with fury and grim determination scattering their surrounding foes like twigs in the wind. It would say nothing of the cold brutal nights before the battle when every last man went deep into the mountains and hid. It would say nothing of the hit and run tactics of the clan skirmishers who threw their lives away merely to slow the advance and buy time to set up adequate defenses. It would say nothing of the small quiet Eastern girl who appeared when the battle seemed lost and single-handedly turned the tide. And it definitely would say nothing of Thorvald One Eye, Spawn of Anathema who on that day was at last revealed as a Demon Prince risen from the dead to destroy the enemies of his people.
Thorvald gritted his teeth at the shame of it all. Li of Orchid came from distant lands on what could have been no more than a sliver of a belief and with her she brought the truth of his legacy. She survived the long march through the blasted lands that a millennia ago killed most of his people. She climbed mountains that none outside the Storm Clan ever dared traverse and helped win a battle that had nothing to do with her. And after all of this her reward was to be reviled and hated even as she lay bleeding and dying bearing wounds so grave and courageous that they would have done pride to the greatest heroes for ten lifetimes. It was clear to him, even then, that his destiny was joined to this strange quiet girl whose warrior spirit burned with a fire even brighter than his own.
And so they journeyed. Many moons they passed in each other’s company. They rarely spoke for such was their nature, yet in their silence communicated in ways the so-called Dynasts could never understand. They knew nothing of each other but a trust was forged that was like the wind: Unseen and ungraspable yet there just the same and strong.
Obstacles stood in their path. They withstood hunger, sweltering heat and bitter cold. They fought back brigands, pirates and survived the strange trials of the Vale Brotherhood. Through all of it they were unlikely yet steadfast companions moving toward something they were unsure of but nonetheless had the power to draw them further and further south.
And in that direction lay their two brothers Zera Thisse and Tepet Aekino. They too had come together in much the same way (though likely, with far more bickering) and now they were all joined together. Whether this was for the better or for the worse remained to be seen.
He did not know why he journeyed with Li of Orchid then but he did now. When Li fought at his side that first day, he saw something in her that he envied. At first he thought it was her skill, once he accepted her prowess as such and not mere 'Easterner tricks'. But he know knew it was more than that. It was an inner strength that defied his understanding. Some men fought out of duty, some because of bloodlust. Others for revenge or glory or a desire to protect their children. But Li of Orchid was different from them all. They fought for a purpose. For her, fighting was the purpose. When her blade fell it fell without fear or hatred or anger. Victory and defeat were of no consequence. All that mattered was the purity of the moment.
Even his people, warrior-fanatics who laughed at death could not approach this. They too lived for the moment but there was emotion and feeling. With Li there was no feeling, merely a strange unfathomable peace, a peace that was a pillar of strength.
And the blood-dreams would twist that strength, Thorvald realized as his hands closed around the hilt of the strange blade. They would take her strength and make it the source of all her weakness. She struggles against it, but what if she falters?
Thorvald lifted the blade and stared at it in the moonlight. If she falters, it matters little. He turned and looked back at Li, guilt and torment written across her face. What foul images haunt her so? What demons from the past assail her spirit? As he watched his sworn-sister in the throes of some terrible memory he almost swore that he could see the very evil around here.
Enjoy this moment while you have it. Thorvald spoke unheard into the wind. For you will not break my sister's will. She may be small but she is strong. And if she falters, I will be there. And we will see how you hide from the light of the noonday sun.
He swung the blade in an arc over his head. His old blade whistled as it cut through the air but this jade weapon was silent. It still felt strange in his hand but he ignored it. "It is a good blade," Li his sworn sister had said. And that was good enough for him. How could his sister, who touches the very soul of struggle, be wrong about this weapon even if she tried? Thorvald swung the blade to his left and smiled as the flames danced off its white surface.
After an hour of practice the blade still availed him poorly. He was not used to its shorter reach and one-handed grip.
It matters little, Thorvald resolved as he twirled the blade. Sometimes there is great strength in small things.
