The Things That Break Us

[Blackthorne]

Irnroot.

A luminescent plant native to and found on a single planet within the galaxy. It required a very specific setting to grow: an absence of light and a high presence of crystalized soil formed by continuous ionic storms. A leafy plant with long, spindly roots, it could be found in large colonies in many areas across the surface of the planet known as Garhall. In the dark it emitted a faint glow, whose color varied depending upon the region in which it was found. Though it does not require water, a smaller variety could be found along the banks of water sources.

Despite having no nutritional value to the main sentient inhabitants of Garhall, it was considered an exceptionally valuable plant for its other properties. These were first discovered by the Eirae who collected it from their mountain slopes after witnessing strange behavior displayed by the prey animals who grazed upon its leaves. The Eirae collected the plants, pulling them roots and all by the base, and tested their use. The leaves were thick with tiny spines and curiously rubbery to the touch. In the same vein as an aloe plant, the Irnroot leaves would ooze an opaque secretion when snapped open that could be collected in jars. Unlike aloe plants this secretion, or Ira as the locals call it, held no properties of healing. Instead it could be used as a bonding agent to repair chipped or shattered crystals and when applied as a glaze in several layers with time to cure in between, it was noted to form a crystalline structure that could--if handled and worked by someone possessing of strong Lanu--be imbued with specific properties.

The skin of the leaves was often mashed and pulped and could be used for a variety of things including dried as strong papers or spun to be woven as fabrics.

The roots of the plant held other curious properties and its various forms were called sten.

Sten refers to a supplemental drug derived from Irnroot that helps to alleviate symptoms of aggression and bloodlust temporarily for the duration of its use and for a short period of time afterwards that it remains in the system. Sten is administered in various forms, the most popular of which is that of dried irnroot extract and, sometimes, flavoring or other enhancing additives, rolled into cut sheets of paper and then smoked. When taken in this form, it is simply referred to as “A Sten.” Sten can also be ingested as a tea, as a chew, as a spice added to other foodstuffs, and has even been brewed into various other forms of drink. The effect of sten can vary depending upon its concentration, but in general it is a mild hallucinatory drug that promotes a dulling of instinct as well as instinctual desires such as hunger. It has been known to enhance the senses and induce lucid dreaming in higher concentrations.

~~~

"Why am I reading this."

Because I told you to.

"What the feth has it got to do with me."

If one defeat had not been bad enough after the Ceremony on Onderon, this one had been all salt in the wound. Dahldesa Shamalain sat in a bloody, battered heap on the floor, blinking blood from her eyes and tasting it in her mouth. Funny thing about bloodlust: it doesn't kick up when it's your own blood. An attempt at defiance was even painful - she settled for a withered glance upwards at the blonde standing before a viewport. She'd not even broken a sweat.

Read.

 

[Blackthorne]

Blodwyne

A concoction crafted by the Lanu Masters of the Aszai. Consisting primarily of the blood of prey, it was used as an alternative to blood feasting by the High Bloods as a means to achieve greater civility and higher levels of self enlightenment. Though it is newer in its inception than that of the Sten, Blodwyne is readily accepted by those of the Aszai cities and can be administered to any age with little to no adverse effects. Blodwyne was created through means of Lanu Sorceries and came in varying levels of purity.

Incantations given before, during, and after blood-letting were used to halt the degeneration of the collected blood. Low level Lanu Sorcerers could accomplish shelf lives of months for their product while Masters were capable of producing an ageless blodwyne if kept in proper storage. "Purity" of blodwyne was achieved by means of invoking the spirit energies of the beast as it died during the process. In capturing the Lanu of the creature within a cleansed and cut crystal and then placing the crystal into the basin with the blood, it maintained the creatures "living essence" and allowed for greater sating of blood hunger. Depending upon the sort of creature in question, the essence would also vary in quality.

A lesser spirit of a simple-minded prey beast would be considered of common quality and its blood often required flavoring of spices and other additives to provide for a greater taste and appeal. Greater beasts, such as other predators whose own diet consisted of meat and blood would provide a higher quality requiring less tampering. Creatures of the sentient nature were considered top-shelf and, in some places and cases, illegal. Humans were a common source of the highest purity of Blodwyne and provided the most satiating experience.


~~~

"I've had this before."

Yes.

"I remember you first gave it to me after the Festival of the Prophet," memories sprang forth unbidden of a time and a place that Dahl quietly, secretly longed for again. Home. The jungles, the creatures, the open skies and the heathenous storms. Halcyon Citadel spires piercing a horizon of epic blue, circled by the flame-color beasts of the sky. Dahl remembered it so well that it hurt. She closed her eyes, passing her tongue over lips that were split and caked with dried blood.

"You always had a glass of it and you never let me or Eor try. You called me over during the festival and I watched you pour a glass, I thought you were trying to tease me - I was so angry. When father started talking to you, when you weren't paying attention, I took it and ran. Eor tried to stop me and I dropped the glass. It shattered everywhere. I got glass shards in my feet."

And yet you kept running. You left the festival.

"I was angry."

You didn't return to the citadel.

"I was embarrassed."

Dahl did not need to open her eyes, nor even look up to know her mother was looking at her. Quietus, Beastia of the wild tribes, ruler of the untamed jungle kingdoms, had a gaze so piercing it could be felt needling ones soul. She'd felt its sting hundreds of times before, knew the measure of its intensity and understood the varying degrees of what she could get away with and what she absolutely could not. There would be no running from the defeat.

This was more than just educational material.

"You humiliated me in front of the entire tribe council," her brow pinched low, "you refused me my birthright and gave it to some... whelp you adopted. He's not even your son!" green eyes vivid with fury turned upwards to the woman as she spat a snarl at her from her position on the ground. Dahl felt her lips split freshly as they peeled back over her fangs, "Wasn't it what you meant for me? Wasn't that exactly what you trained me for?!" A hand lashed out, smacking the journal away, "WHY."

Quietus remained impassive where she stood, arms folded, patient yet unimpressed.

I don't think we're talking about the Festival anymore.

 

[Blackthorne]

"He's not your child!" Dahl snarled again, a look of absolute disgust on her face, "He has no right to the title!"

The elder narrowed her eyes but would not allow irritation to boil over, It is not your right to decide who I claim as my child and who I do not. Nor is it your right to decide who I bestow the title upon.

"Why him?"

Because he is the best suited for the job. You are not ready.

She still did not understand. In her mind she was ready, more ready than her brother, more ready than Arathul. Eor was smart, certainly, but meek in his resolve. He lacked the cut-throat mentality required to control the wild peoples of the jungles and their beasts. His was that of perfecting the minutiae, Dahl's was an encompassing power of superiority. She'd fought the great warriors of the myriad tribes, she'd learned the languages of each, she'd hunted the greatest of beasts and tamed the most rank. She'd brought a fully-grown drexl under her control - the youngest ever to do so.

The girl stared down at her hands, still bloody and beginning to heal from her desperate attempt to prove herself, again, "Why not?"

Because you think you deserve it.

Her fingers curled inwards, eyes and jaw clenched tightly. Didn't she deserve it? Hadn't she earned it?

The greatest leaders hold no lust for their position, nor do they simply have it handed to them. They come upon their power by virtue of their actions, their environment becomes a product of them.

"And yet you hand it to Arathul."

He did not want for it.

As a matter of fact Arathul Moriir Shamalain never once dreamed he'd ever be in such a position. Especially not after learning of his origins.

"So you're saying he got the title because he did not want it?"

It's not so simple as that, Aeridne. Keep reading.

The journal slid back across the floor towards her, stopping quietly at her side.