The Exegetic Episodes of the Bloodtrailed Bashtok and the Emergent Matriarch

[Aver Brand]

Alien language echoed through the small space, and through her skull in turn. Aver made the effort to look at nothing in particular; neither Ereza nor Quietus would find the distant blue gaze. Not even when the Beastia surged against her, fingers digging deep enough to bruise silver skin; nor, even, when the sorceress finally spoke in a tongue she understood.

“It is done. Rest now, we must speak later, Masenre Dionea.”

(Though the words themselves meant nothing.)

Her lungs expanded with the first breath after a summer storm – the air dense with electricity and wet earth.

Aver remained still as a statue, observing Ereza’s departure with her senses alone. The golden presence in the Force receded, settling below them; the merc released a long exhale and finally tilted her head down to meet the black tainting familiar green eyes.

For a few moments, their roles seemed reversed. The merc was quiet in the face of Quietus’ new voice. She ran a thoughtless thumb over the back of the hand in her own. Licked her dry lips.

“What… happened?”

 

[Quietus]

Quietus' eyes were watering, trying to flush away the black sludge coating that had been left behind. Body trembling from the exertion of powers having run their gauntlet through her being, the silent woman retched and moved to lean over the bed. The black ooze that disgorged from her throat coated her mouth in a way that reminded her of venom, but far more foul.

She let herself collapse there at the edge of the mattress, free hand pressing at a throat that felt as if it were on fire.

The other hand remained firmly clasped around Aver's.

She died, came the unspoken answer after some time spent attempting to wrap her head around everything that had occured, my grandmother died.

...how long was I out?

 

[Aver Brand]

Black tar or not, no flinch of revulsion ever shook the merc. She had seen, and made, and ordered, too many beings killed and quartered. If disgust ever existed within her, it had long since been rooted out through the ruthlessness of absolutes.

Now that the problem was once again in her purview, Aver had reserves of patience to spare. For Desdemona, always.

“Four days.” She would not intrude any more than she had to. For the brief flash before the end of the ritual, she’d felt enough of that agony upon her flesh to know how raw it must’ve left her mate in its wake.

And the mind of Ygdris Val was hardly soothing.

She had many questions; all of them could, and would wait.

“What do you need?”

 

[Quietus]

Four days...

It was a thought of disbelief not purposefully voiced but echoed back in her subconscious. Four days and yet Aver had remained. Quietus could not imagine what had gone through the woman's head and she was far too exhausted to look or pry. It likely had not been easy - for as well as she knew Aver, there would have been nothing the woman could do. But to her credit, she was here in the Nest, safe and in one piece. The last thing Quietus could remember was the clouds whipping past her skin and a flash of blue and green.

The air catching in her throat.

Aver had stayed with her and it meant more that she'd likely ever be able to describe.

You, Quietus squeezed her mate's hand, finding a curious sense of comfort in the woman's presence that she'd never really felt before, just you.

And despite having slept for four days she found it remarkably easy to slip back into a dreamless state.

Except it wasn't dreamless anymore. A face of a man swam in and out, not quite focused - like an old holograph that had become corrupted. There were voices, blurry scenes playing out of people and places that felt so real, so familiar, as if she'd seen them all before but couldn't remember when.

Hey, sleeping beauty.

The face returned, youthful, angular, striking, with eyes the color of a skreev beneath a blazing sun.

it's time to wake the hell up.



When she woke again it was evening. She knew this by the smell of the jungle and the sounds surrounding her. The way the warmth of sunlight no longer permeated the canopy. Aver was still there - Quietus could not yet see but she felt her presence there all the same. The sound of a blade running across a wetstone rang in her ear, bringing a mild smirk to her face. She pushed herself up, body no longer saturated by pain but her head still feeling very much tainted by the remants of the arcane.

Ygdris, can you take me to her, please.

 

[Aver Brand]

The movement of her hand across blade was so practiced that even the waking stir of her mate did not interrupt her rhythm. Aver tilted her head to the side, icy eyes already accustomed to the fallen dusk.

Qui looked better for the rest; felt it, too, in the way her voice had regained much of its familiar cadence.

This time, Aver couldn’t shelve her curiosity. “You spoke.” Ever the blunt instrument. “During this whole mess. You spoke.”

Wiping down the knife in her hand, the merc slid it back home into its sheath before nodding towards the walkway. Her brow pulled together in faint confusion.

“You want me to… go with you?”

 

[Quietus]

A frown pulled at the silent woman's lips, black eyes dropping in consideration of this understandable curiosity. She lifted a hand to rub at her throat and neck.

Yes... I did.

A reality she had never expected to live to see. Now that it was here, Quietus wasn't sure how she felt about it. Silence had been her life and it was in silence that she was comfortable staying. The discomfort would have been perfectly evident in the lines of her expression as she turned her blind gaze back in the direction of the Mercenary.

And yes, I do.

There are many things you do not know about me that maybe you might want to.

 

[Aver Brand]

Whether Qui could actually see her or not was immaterial; Aver was a liar, and like all liars, she could mold the outward reactions of her body to tell whatever story she willed.

Her mind… not so much. Her discomfort at the offer would be plainly evident to her mate.

That, too, was immaterial.

She stood up and took hold of that same hand. As she led the way towards the lower landing, the merc picked up the thread again. Aver was cold; she was not blind. The weight of ominous sentiment left unspoken that night on Nadir had not gone unnoticed.

I thought you didn’t want me to.

 

[Quietus]

It was not out of necessity that Quietus had asked Aver to take her to the strange woman in her home. Even blind and with senses dulled by the detritus of ancient powers, Qui could have navigated the home she built and found the woman well enough on her own. No, it was out of a desire to include Aver into something of importance in her life. To share a moment that she would likely never experience again - the passing of a title within a noble family of Garhall.

Aver did not need to understand everything, there was simply too much to tell and, likely, Aver would not care to know it all. This Desdemona willingly accepted. But some things would make a difference.

Knowing the reason behind those atributes that made her who she was.

I was not ready for you to know.

And plenty of time had passed since then. After centuries of living, Aver had done one thing: proven that Quietus was still capable of change and evolution. Her very presence here was proof of that.

Now I am.

"There is fresh water in the basin," Ereza spoke from where she sat by the fire, "you will feel better to wash away the daste."

 

[Aver Brand]

It wasn’t a stretch to assume that where they were going, Ereza and Quietus would be the ones doing the talking. The irony would be enough to amuse her on any other day; but not the fourth day.

Today she was instead grateful for it. Many things had happened, and Des bore the promise of many more to come on her voice.

Aver relinquished the hand of her mate as she folded against the wall.

She had learned to listen, after all.

 

[Ereza]

"Your vision will return in time," Ereza explained calmly from where she sat as Quietus moved slowly across the level to the basin at the far side. Leaning over it, she plunged her hands and arms into the water and began to vigorously scrub at her face and head to remove all remnants of the ochre stain.

"I had wondered when I would see you again, Desdemona. The years have been ... kind to you. Mette Masenre spoke at length to me of your children, and your children's children. It is good to know," Ereza leveled a solemn gaze across the room to the woman, "I should hope to meet them, someday."

They are your family to meet, Vela, Quietus' telepathic voice intoned flatly as she wiped her face and arms dry with a length of linen cloth, skin red from scrubbing, you do not need my permission to see them.

"Maybe not, but it is welcome all the same..." dual-hued eyes peeked across the room at Aver who stook hunched against the wall, "you may join us, yes? You wish to learn about our people?"

Aver, this is Velaeri Mortaine. She is a ... distant relative of mine and the Steward of my Grandmother's title.

 

[Aver Brand]

Aver pushed off the wall and slowly moved into the flickering circle of the fire. Cautious blue eyes lingered on the off-color gaze of the priestess all the while.

Velaeri? She said her name was Ereza, she addressed Qui despite looking straight at the woman in question. Her lips quirked with a wry smile. “So this is some kinda family tradition for you – barging into people’s minds without permission? She,” Aver stuck an accusatory thumb over her shoulder, “did the exact same thing when we first met.”

Shaking her head, the merc found her spot on the other side of the flames. From the shadows, Dhaladii scurried to her side. She peeked slowly around her knee, eyeing the newcomer with suspicious hollows in her skull.

Running an absent hand over the ridges in the Vonduun shell, Aver sought out Qui once more. What does it mean, being a Matriarch?

Feth, she could use a drink.

 

[Quietus]

Ereza is her... title, Quietus clarified where she stood at the basin, wavering between moving to join them at the fire and staying exactly where she was. The red had quickly drained from her face to something a bit paler.

"This is the way of the Shamalain family," Ereza said, if Aver looked hard enough she'd find the faintest impression of amusement flickering in the shadows of the woman's face, "the Mette Masenre was cursed by a powerful Sith Lord when she was very young. To live a life of Silence so that she may never speak of his secrets. He did not know what she was, that the Lanu ... the...Force, what you call it, would also be hers to command. She learned to speak without speaking." She tapped to her temple, the line of a smile slowly drawing across her lips.

"But, the curse infected her children and her children's children," that same hand gestured towards Quietus who was pulling herself back from being ill over the side of the railing, black marring her lips, "so she taught them all to speak without speaking. They who would become Masters of the Mind. With her death, now, the curse dies with her. This black you see is the remnant of the powers that tainted them like a disease."

It tasted awful.

Quietus spat over the railing, looking disgusted.

"Desdemona has lived with it all her life ... this is a very long time, so," Ereza made a mild shrug, "it will take longer to purge."

Wonderful. Qui did not sound thrilled. The opposite, really. She ran the damp cloth over her face again, wiping away the ochre before slowly finding her way over to the fire where she took a seat somewhere between Ereza and Aver. She took a deep breath through her nose, eyes closed to the warmth of the fire, legs crossed, arms resting over her knees, and gave a measured exhale.

At the passing of the Matriarch, Masenre, the eldest female direct descendant inherits the title unless they are otherwise dishonored. Being the Matriarch means I am responsible now for my family and it's legacy, and I gain the knowledge of my ancestors to maintain the role.

 

[Aver Brand]

It occurred to her that only now, some decades and change into… trust and sacrifice with this woman, Aver had learned her family name. Curious blues flickered over to Quietus; rather, to the slope of her back as she spat a new wave of that black shet on the ground.

It occurred also to her that this didn’t bother her in the least.

Aver coaxed the slither of Lammie out of the skull at her hip and fed her the remnants of her lunch – charred lard hanging in strings off the bones she hadn’t quite had the appetite to stomach. It was usually a delicacy left for Qui.

The air settled somewhat in the silence that followed Ereza’s explanation. Unhurried, Aver processed the wealth of new information as she brought another slice of grease to the ravenous amphistaff.

Do you want it?

 

[Quietus]

Ereza, for all her forthrightness, was immediately silenced with the smallest gesture of Quietus' hand. The gave a faint nod and returned her gaze to the fire. For all the flames between them, Aver might have the feeling she was staring through them at her and her curious ... creature.

She would also pick up on the prickling defensiveness of her mate - a similar sensation she'd felt that night long ago when their status had been affirmed on Nadir. When conversation had drifted into highly fragile and staunchly defended territory. Desdemona furrowed her brow, eyes slivering open to stare at nothing in particular.

No, an answer after a time, but I do not have a choice.

Swallowing a particularly difficult memory, it sat at the back of her throat like a hot coal before slowly sliding down to painfully settle in her chest.

It should have been my mother, but the Gulag Plague took her. My grandmother intended to bring her back and I wouldn't let her. My mother lived a life of abuse, mistreatment, and abandonment under her first husband - my father. She deserved to be at peace. In her stead, I agreed to stand as the heir and undergo the rights of passage, the consequences of which brought about my ... purification from what I was into what I am now.

 

[Aver Brand]

There was no comfort Ygdris knew to offer her mate. Not when it came to family.

Whatever semblance of the concept she had, Aver had forged by herself, for herself. She’d never met either of the people she might’ve called parents in another life. Even if they had somehow survived fifty years under turbulent Nadiri skies, it was impossible that they would recognize her, or she them.

The nature of the bond whose dissolution brought such pain to Quietus was entirely alien to Aver. She would never be a daughter nor a mother.

An evolutionary dead-end. Or the apex.

Who could tell?

With a sigh Aver retrieved her gaze from the dancing flames and settled her eyes once more on her mate. Any… upsides to this Matriarch deal? She was nothing if not pragmatic. Or is it just a bunch of responsibilities, like the ones you left to your kid on Onderon?

If Qui and Dahl were anything to judge by, handling the Shamalains was probably a bit like trying to corral a bunch of rabid skreev.

And who the kark was more qualified?

 

[Quietus]

There were reasons Desdemona did not discuss her family with Aver, and while at first they had been entirely self-serving they had eventually become more out of respect for the woman's inexperience with the subject. It was why no favors had been asked, even if they had been given freely of Aver's own will where Dahldesa was concerned. It also protected those Aver was not aware of, in a way.

Quietus had no idea just how futile that effort had been.

She sighed deeply, filtering away discomfort and frustration. Say what you would about Desdemona Shamalain, but never say she went back on her word.

The upside is I get to make the rules.

There was a moment of silence following where Ereza looked to her, bemused, that it might be clear she was just saying that to provide an answer that didn't sound like 'not really.'

"It is not so heavy a burden as it once was," Ereza offered, "much of the Shamalain line has become diluted by outside, lesser blood. Most who remain on Garhall are male and mated," a shrug, "therefore not your concern anymore."

Why don't you keep the title then.

"You know I can not do this, I am not of direct blood, nor does the Priesthood allow it."

Quietus snorted, But you are pureblood.

"And you are Lanurein. Prime Eldar with children and grandchildren. Your honor far outweighs my own, Masenre," Ereza gently shook her head with a sympathetic smile, "this title is yours alone. You swore an oath to the Suzerain, she will expect to see you."

Clearing her throat, she spat another mouthful of black into the fire. It hit the flames and sizzled angrily, leaving the stench of decay. Quietus glanced in Aver's direction, haze-covered eyes failing to make direct eye contact, It is not like what I left behind on Onderon. There I lead an empire of people, this...this is just family. There isn't much left of it anymore.

 

[Aver Brand]

Listening to the exchange wasn’t unlike two Sabacc players trade bluffs over equally bad hands. Granted, there were words being thrown around that might as well have been gibberish to Aver; it was amusing to watch all the same.

The merc had coaxed Lammie fully out of its shell as the pair bandied across the hiss of the fire. Of course it was serious. Most people wouldn’t have threaded humor into the situation – not when their mate was just recovering from some ancient curse, only to have a pile of responsibilities dropped into their lap by some traveling priest.

Buuut this was Quietus, with her centuries of life, and, therefore, centuries of baggage. Laugh or cry about it, reality wouldn’t change one iota.

Only perspective.

Aver’s mouth curled sideways.

Go make the rules then… and then for Desdemona alone, in a voice tainted carnal-red, ...Masenre Dionea.

 

[Quietus]

Perhaps she was tired or simply suppressing just how much she was struggling with the current set of affairs and whatever grief may have been tied to it, but Quietus did not return the humor to Aver. She tried at a smirk, briefly, knowing that Aver's humor - regardless of what sort - was often used as a deflecting method to the things she either couldn't emotionally wrangle or didn't want to be bothered with.

A strange sort of support. She appreciated it for what it was.

Will others be effected by the end of the curse?

"Yes," Ereza's brow lifted over a slow nod as she leaned to place another log on the fire, "Amadeus and ... Arathul. Your son, Soliel," she made a dismissive gesture, "uneffected. Ah, the same with Eordahn and Dahldesa ... and Amadeus' son, Gabriel."

Will they require aide like I did?

Another nod from Ereza, "Yes. I found you as quickly as I could. I know of Amadeus' location. I can tend to Arathul as well if you want to leave for Garhall."

No, I will take care of Arathul. He is not a ... particularly trusting sort with strangers. Having know how he reacted to learning he was adopted, Quietus didn't want to think about how he would react to the foreign memories of his previous life.

"Very well. You can handle him alone, then?"

I don't know.

"You want, I can come with you."

No. Take care of Amadeus. Reassure his family, they have been through a great deal recently.

 

[Aver Brand]

The mercenary listened. Because what the hell’re you gonna do when two century-olds throw around names and titles like they’re candy? By her standards, Aver was on her very best behavior when around Quietus, but even very best would be considered callous my most anyone else.

Whatever the woman herself meant to Ygdris – and there was no quantifier attached to it, not even in the depths of her mind – her spawn, her family… did not. Dahl, maybe, and even then only because her well-being meant more profit for Nadir in the long run. Arathul, too, was irrelevant beyond its incarnation in the signature on her contracts with Scarside and Irontown.

So Aver said nothing, absently running rough fingers along the spines of her amphistaff. No doubt more words would come, and, eventually, they would be directed at her.

And by the weary lines etched into Qui’s face, the merc had a good idea of what they’d be.

 

[Quietus]

"You should know," Ereza began, tone clearly taking care with her words, "that she brought Rune and Lear back before her death."

What.

Whatever calm Quietus had been facilitating with the situation suddenly seemed to catch fire and a tangible spark of energy could be felt on the air.

The care in which Ereza conducted herself now carried over into her posture, "It was her parting gift to their father."

He was not set to awaken for another century, Quietus still could not see but her blackened gaze had honed in on the other woman as if she had personally found the only way to deeply and fully offend her. The air in the treehome level was becoming steadily hotter while the fire somehow seemed diminished in vibrancy. Purposefuly, slowly, Quietus moved to her feet and began closing the distance between herself and the Priestess, Why is he awake now.

"Outside interference," a normal person would not notice the subtle stiffening of Ereza's posture of someone who was preparing to defend themselves, but Aver would. To her credit she did not seem afraid and did not look away, but she certainly was on-guard, "he was woken early. We do not know why or who - what is done beyond that was by the choice of Mette Masenre."

And where are they now, Velaeri. She slowly held out her hand, gesturing for something.

"At the temple. He left them to me..." Ereza lifted her left arm, hand held palm up in a motion that seemed curiously sub-servient, "It made no sense."

Strong hands coiled around the Priestess' wrist, drawing her upwards into a kneeling position, Explain.

"Lord Gravis did nothing but accuse her of abandonement..." now her gaze diverted, shifting to the floor with a wince as Desdemona sunk her teeth into the flesh of her wrist, "...of giving up. He would not listen to reason or fact. After she passed he buried her remains and left shortly after, before I could wake his sons."

The feeding did not last long but Quietus was not gentle about it; she dropped her grip on Ereza abruptly and turned away from her with an air of disgust and general malcontent, He is a human and an idiot. So much the better that he left. Where is the book?

"There," Ereza slowly got to her own feet, the bite wound already nearly healed, "on the stand. It is yours now. The Anver Card is within."

A large and very old, leather-bound book sat on a work table off to the side. Quietus did not even look towards it, but instead steadied herself against a wooden beam. Aver would be able to guess why.

Are we done here.

"...yes."

Then go to Amadeus.

Ereza adjusted her sleeve, picked up her cloak, uttered something in her foreign tongue over a bow then left with a short glance to Aver on her way out.