* * *
Lyric
* * *
I drum, just like Elric told me to. Now, I've never been much of a musician. My family'd be the first to tell you so, and we were all raised to at least appreciate music, if not make it. I don't really understand all those fiddly music note marks that Stevane and Daddy read when they're playing piano or whatever else, and I can't understand why my singing sounds "off-key" to everyone else. But I do understand a beat, because I understand dancing, and I am at least good at that. That being said, when I start drumming, it's more of a konk-konk-konk than anything else, and I wonder what Elric thinks is so special about this drum other than what it's made out of.
...A coconut. This is totally a coconut, just has a few extra holes in it. I'm gonna throw up all my guts later, but for now this damn thing is a coconut and I'm drumming up a storm on it.
Well, I wouldn't say a storm, but I do naturally find... some kind of beat. I couldn't tell you how, but somehow this particular rhythm feels right, and I'm actually starting to enjoy it. It's not really making a sound so much as marking out spaces between sounds, and expending those spaces until they're sort of solid themselves. Like I'm prying something apart with each KONK. It's actually kind of satisfying. So satisfying that I don't even notice Elric's door is open until it bumps into my shoulder.
Don't stop drumming, Lyric. We're not done... quite yet. Elric sounds like he's going through a lot of effort right now. I'm better off not poking into it. I just need to get my job done, like he said.
Konk. Konk. ...KONK.
The last one rings out with a kind of finality throughout the whole cell row, with more sound than what a hollow skull being pounded with a rib can produce. It's the sound of shattering locks and chains, and the subsequent creaking open of many doors. It's freeing, it's open, it's... Elric is standing up. He's got the greatest, biggest smile on his face. His chains are off.
No, not just the chains. The collar, too. The collar that was around his neck has shattered into teeny pieces that lie on the floor. I'm amazed. I didn't think I was that powerful. I don't even know how to drum. I just sort of blink as Elric hugs me.
You weren't alone, and that lack of knowledge is its own sort of power, Lyric. Not knowing how to do something means you're not limited by knowing how to do it correctly. That's the special gift trainees have that official Poets always lose to a degree. Someone new always comes along, though... He leans back, looking down at me. Wow, Elric's really tall. Not Ebrellin-i-level tall, but getting close to Daddy-level. He has a big goofy grin on his face and a weird look in his eyes that looks sort of familiar. I don't have time to place it, though - he slumps to the floor before I have a chance. Then he breaks into laughter as someone two cells down manages to shuffle through their doorway on their hands and knees and look over at him in perplexion.
I can't stand up! I'm finally free and I can't bloody stand up! Tears stream down his face as he keeps laughing - an odd sort of chuckle, as if he isn't used to using his throat for good. But I can laugh! Lyric, I can actually laugh! Thank you! He pulls me by the hand in front of him, leans forward, and kisses me.
Oh. I did recognize that look. It's just... been awhile.
My hand reaches up to caress Elric's cheek.
It's been quite awhile indeed.
"I can tell it's really happened," says the Poet who just crawled out of her cell, her voice raspy and broken. "People are doing utterly stupid things in the hall. Poetry's obviously been at work."
"Hmph," whoever the girl was talking to replies. "No surprise at all. Elric's been going on about his new boyfriend for weeks upon weeks to anybody who had half a head to hear."
"Aww, you're just jealous you haven't netted yourself a handsome boyfriend here yourself, Jhe Elam. All this pureblood Xaillyndesse stock to pick from - don't your kind marry back in?" This speaker's male, a new voice, one wreathed in amusement.
"I do not... I don't... you can't very well-!" Elam lets out a great harumph. "None of you are getting out of here alive. Not a rational thought in a single one of your heads. Me, I'm leaving this place."
"You don't seem to be too eager to get moving, much as your tongue seems to claim it." The other male voice counters him in a dry tone.
"I'll get to it just as soon as my legs start working again!"
"Here. Jhe Elam. I can still stand. You just hold on... I'll help you prop against the wall... we can all get out together, I'm sure, some of us still have strong legs!" The girl is speaking now, though I'm hearing some other voices of agreement in the background that I don't yet recognize. I suppose it'd help if I looked away from Elric, but we're kind of... occupied.
Thusly, neither Elric nor myself give the brilliant suggestion of walking into the music room and taking some instruments to strengthen the Poets who can't get their feet yet. Still, we've done our part, and Elric's more than happy to let someone else direct for awhile. Around when we manage to pry off of one another, everyone else seems to have gained their feet back, though we all look tired.
Well, I look pretty darn healthy, but I'm the new guy.
Up until now we've been talking to each other as I'm talking to you now... those of us that could. Elam's strongest for single-speaking, and I've got the head for group talking... I can speak to us all at once, really. Which, as I'm sure you can't quite detect yet, Lyric, I am doing right now. I really can't speak aloud right now - Thelea's damned near destroyed my tongue.
"Well, that's a bit of a lie, isn't it?" Elam's grey-blue eyes look up to Elric apologetically. "Not that I'm implying any sort of malice. It's just inaccurately summarizing the real factor - you can't speak anything but the black words with any sort of promise that the speech will stay without taint." He pauses. "I'm saying this so any of us who don't know that will understand what a danger it is to encourage you to speak aloud just yet." He's remarkably calm about it all. Elam's got a lot of the same facial features as the Poet King - I didn't see him much before, but I do know he's his son. His nose is a bit narrower, though, and his hair's more of a grey that isn't a result of his incarceration here - I think it's always been like that. He's almost as tall as Elric, but a lot skinnier.
Well, nobody here's exactly pudgy, they've been prisoners for who knows how long.
Elric nods. He looks away. By what's on his face, he didn't want to admit to what Elam just said. I grip his hand and squeeze it.
He squeezes back.
"We've got to go." Elam's dour expression hasn't shifted a bit since he first crawled out of his cell. "We've got to get out of here while we have the chance--"
Oh, no rush, Elam. Elric smiles. There's no one left to stop us. Thelea and the unfortunate case of Jhe Edward are, for now, out of the picture. We just need to wait here.
"Wait?" Elam glares at Elric. "What have you been hiding? Waiting for whom?"
There's a clatter down the hall, and a very familiar curse - my brother Gerald, I think. "Erynn, you bloody fool, don't jump just because you saw a shadow!" Ah, no. Gerude.
"It was different than the usual shadow! It was Jhe Haari'se's shadow! No offense meant, Jhe Haari'se, but you do cut an impressive figure, so to speak."
There's an eerie chittering sound in reply that sends several Poets scampering back into their cells to hide. Elric remains standing still, his resolve unfazed. When Gerude shows up around the corner with an Arachne-kin at his side, however, Elric lets out the faintest squeak. He claps his hand over his mouth, eyes widened in fear. I realize that he's not afraid of the Arachne-kin - he was scared of what might be coming out of his mouth. One of those inky black shadows from before, perhaps...
I shudder. I tell myself that shouldn't have anything to do with us kissing, but it still feels a little weird.
Gerude sighs heavily, looking over our group. "Bingo," he says, "looks like everyone's here that's worth getting. Are we missing anyone?"
* * *
Edward
* * *
Master says no speaking. Master is ever so close now. I do believe I can feel him riding my mind even now.
I wanted this. This is power. I'm his Poet now. His Herald. His first servant, his cherished one. It's so cold, but it's lonely at the top, isn't it?
I can't very well call out now. I'm still recovering. I can't even see, much less use telepathy. Besides, Master says no speaking.
I only slipped that once, when he took me. I only called out once, and he chastised me. Once was enough to learn. There's no going back now... and why would I want to? This is what I've been working so hard for... isn't it?
* * *
Erynn
* * *
"We're missing my sister," the dapper Jhe Lyric says. I do wonder where he got all that Lyiannethian finery.
Gerude curses. It's something in Chetharian, I think. He keeps picking that up from his Father, like a nasty habit. "Where is she?"
Lyric looks afraid to answer. "The Kommissar took her from Thelea. I haven't seen her since we arrived and were separated."
Gerude narrows his eyes. "And just what were you doing all this time?" A good question. Lyric's got odd tendencies - just look at the last job he fetched up from.
Lyric meets his brother's glare. "Not getting either of us killed. Do you want to go find her or not?"
Gerude fixes Lyric with a dubious look for quite a long time. He smells trouble. The moment is broken when one of the girls screams after seeing Jhe Haari'se out of the corner of her eye.
Oh, that was me again. My, I'm rather jumpy today, aren't I? Gerude's glare could kindle a woodfire. "Err, well. Sorry. Anyway, shouldn't we be worrying more about guards, security, giant spiders that aren't our friends, all that?"
Elric raises a finger. There'll be little to no resistance from this point out. Thelea has left her castle with Edward, which means that neither have any more direct control over events here. A large gathering of uncollared Poets, however bedraggled, plus your bright group, will counter any other minor adversity at hand. As for Stevane... He looks a bit sad, now. She's a big girl.
I can't say much for that last point, but I do understand Gerude's rather defensive stance about his sister when I try to think about it too much. Mind you, I can't feel too worried about Stevane for too long, but that's because I remember how often she's set my hair ablaze in the past.
...Wait. "What was that bit about Edward again?"
* * *
Stevane
* * *
Everything's sort of quiet, which is nice. I know I can see, but the shade of eveything's sort of tinted to a pleasant grey, and I know instinctually that nothing in my field of vision really matters in the long run. That's rather nice to know. I've got to get out of here, but I can take my time. There's nothing pressing to deal with in here, now that--
I feel a bit sick all of a sudden, for some reason.
It passes.
-- now that I've taken care of the room's main problem.
It's odd to feel so calm about it. I think later someone will tell me this is shock, and that I have trauma. I prefer to think of this peace as a reward for a job well done. For putting up with that brute for so long. It does sort of make me happy now, after the initial vomit-feeling.
Hm. Is someone else in here?
"Please don't stab me, Jhe Stevane. I haven't done anything wrong to you."
Oh! Oh, that's right. I've got my knife Garnet pressed against Calyx's throat. The most logical thing to do after eliminating the Kommissar was to make sure his assistant didn't pull anything funny. I've probably been standing like this for quite awhile, possibly while muttering to myself. "It's okay. She says you haven't done anything worth Judging you for, not yet at least."
He nods - or jerks his chin a tiny bit, at least. "Good to hear. Can we go?"
Hm. That would involve not stabbing Calyx. "Well, about that. I've got some questions for you, before we get along anywhere. I had sort of a proposition for you, I suppose." Crisanto is peeping up that she's thirsty and she'd like to cut him a little. I tell her to shush - it's too early for any of that. I realize that I might have said that out loud, but it doesn't matter. I'm the one with the Arms here, and Calyx isn't really the steel-spined sort.
Or is he? That's the thing - a jellyfish of a man would have peed his pants by now, and Calyx is a person who's survived working under the Kommissar for quite a long time. I can't trust how he acts. But my Arms can tell whether he speaks the truth.
"I am certainly in a position to listen to you, Jhe Stevane." His words are calm, but have a tense edge underneath them. Damn right they should.
"You know about my sister. My Father would certainly love to hear all about what you know, directly from you. My Father's protectiveness in regards to his children is rather well-known of. I don't mean that you ever did anything ungentlemanly to Letitcia, or that she never consented to you doing anything ungentlemanly to her, but considering the circumstances, I don't think you'd survive such an encounter. My Father, he has his moods."
Calyx is as pale as Jhe h'Lete's finest vellum. Garnet and Crisanto agree that it's not a reaction that he's faking.
"I'd wager that you'd rather not be brought in. My Father might forget all about you, though, if he knew where my sister was." Well, he wouldn't, but he'd be so busy tracking Letitcia down faster than he tromped over to Audiva Rocale to fetch Lyric that it would give Calyx a fair run for his money. "If I left you here alive, then, Jhe Calyx... what task would you set yourself to?" Garnet twitches in my hand just a little bit - enough to tickle his throat.
Keeping him honest. Men are never honest unless you remind them to be.
I try not to chuckle in response, but when I fail I suppose it's more motivation for Calyx to stay on the level.
"Well there's rather a lot to clean up, what with my boss dead." He actually has it in him to grin in this position. "I do get his job now, after all. Wonderful! I can finally get something proper done with it. I do suppose I owe you for killing him off."
I nod. "I'll remember that. What do you consider 'something proper'?"
"Not all this, for one." Calyx gestures to the room, to the dead Arms hung about the altar. "I think he was daft for this kind of stuff, and for working with the Jherent Nul at all. But service to Nul is something that's rather intertwined with the Xaillyndesse bloodline itself, just as the hatred for the Rhivendish is. It's a tradition, I guess you could say. But I'm a Gorey, and the Xaillyndesse blood might be in my veins, but it's even thinner than Xen's was before you let it all out of him. I'm not really one for tradition, I just like getting my job done. The Kommissar maintains defense of Audiva Rocale's borders and has authority over all intelligence and counter-intelligence operations. So, theoretically, if you left me here then it'd be my job to spy on your homeland. However, it would also be my job to keep correspondence with Jhe h'Akribastes to ensure the peace and prosperity of both our Empires. That's a measure that traditionally our Kommissars have gone lax on. A shame, really, considering it takes less resources than all that constant skulduggery. I would be willing to change the balance of our operations, if Crux Radia is willing to take the Lady Thelea's seat of power from her and restore it to her son. I like occasionally to pick my despots, and he's been rather level-headed for a pureblood Xaillyndesse."
I run all of that over in my head and do the math. "You're asking more from my side than I'm asking from you."
"Ah, you caught that." Such an insufferable grin. I almost stab him for it, but I recognize it from somewhere. I just can't place it. "I suppose my terms are a bit unreasonable, considering my position. Can I offer anything more than the location of your sister?"
I raise an eyebrow. "I think you're the one who should answer that question, aren't you?" My wrist is getting tired. That's my official explanation for why Garnet pierces his throat enough for a drop of blood to well up. "Sorry, I'm getting a bit tired just standing here. Long day."
"Hasn't it been?" His grin is a bit manic, but considering his position... "If you give me a map, I can lay out all sorts of interesting information for your Father to have. Certainly enough to communicate that I mean what I say... and certainly enough to mean the promise of more bargains in the future."
"You sound more like a businessman than a commander. Still, it's a sound suggestion. You can get up."
We both wait. He stares at me for awhile. "Your knife," he finally says.
Oh, whoops. Garnet's still against his throat. If he'd stood up he would have perforated himself. "Alright. Let's get out of this creepy room, then." I let him lead, Crisanto pressed up against his back. I toss once more glance to the Kommissar's corpse before we're gone. I almost expect it to move.
But no. He is very dead. Arms don't miss.
