Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn From: hutch@ibeam.intel.com (Steve Hutchison) Subject: [DQ] Week 12: Secrets Shared in the Dark Message-ID: References: <92308.124625344LWKC@CMUVM.CSV.CMICH.EDU> Date: Thu, 5 Nov 1992 02:23:23 GMT [ADMIN] a mutual effort, Andrea Evans gets first billing, and then me... (Sorry - this was supposed to go to out to the world and the default news poster sends it to "intel" only, grumble, kvetch...) The sullen overcast day has given way to a night darker still. "Black as the inside of a black dragon's belly." growls ShockWave, "Can't one of you mages get us a light before I take the wrong step on this paper- thin excuse for a deck and break SunStorm's neck?" "No need for that..." mutters Lancos who is crouched over a splintered spar of wood, flicking something in his hands. There is the brittle clink of steel on flint and sparks fly. The bone-dry splinters catch at once, and Lancos holds up a torch. The dead wood burns brightly, with an eerie greenish tinge to the flame. ShockWave roars "ARE YOU _MAD_? DO YOU WANT TO BURN THIS SHIP OUT FROM UNDER US?" Valgar stands and faces towards the furious giant. "If you want to talk about destroying the ship, what about _you_, stomping around like you want to collapse the whole damn place!" As ShockWave gathers breath to begin on another burst of shouting, Kadrys interjects in haste, "Lancos acted wisely. There's certainly no lack of broken bits of wood..." Miro grins, "Yes, and _any_ way of getting rid of them would suit _Kadrys_. Less room for mis-stakes." Though the remark was meant as humour, given the current atmosphere it is unsurprising that the result is far more acidic than intended. Then a smothered giggle of incipient hysteria is heard from the fringe of the circle of torchlight. The hearers realise that it is coming from William. Heads turn toward the sculptor, who struggles for an appearance of sobriety, "Well, I don't know about our Traveller 'ameego', but speaking for little me, I get the baaad feeling that I'm gonna need all the bluster I c'n muster, later on. It'd be MAD (he shouts the last word in attempted mockery of ShockWave's voice, staring up at the giant with feverish defiance), to waste power on little things like lighting, when we don't have to." ShockWave greets this with a grudging lack of further argument, though he seems to be reining in his feelings with difficulty. The altercation has left everyone feeling edgy and uncommunicative. The questers eat and sit awhile in uncomfortable silence, then in an unspoken accord, they get out their bedding and find firm sections of decking to sleep on. No-one feels like trusting the soundness of the structures belowdecks more than necessary. Kadrys of course has no bedding and no use for it. As the others turn in for the night, he moves with his usual stealth away from their beds, toward the rail where 'Raelf stands, staring out into the night, as if he is still feasting his eyes on the sight of the restless waves of Void; though to any ordinary eyes, the blackness of the night is total now that Lancos' torch has burned out. Kadrys has no difficulty in finding the mage, despite the now-unbroken blackness. As well as his still-unimpaired vision, there is of course the sound of a beating heart, the warmth and scent of human flesh, though he knows that 'Raelf's human form is a guise: even less indicative of the mage's true being than Kadrys' own ability to resemble a living man. Kadrys moves to stand beside the Traveller, seizing this perfect opportunity for a little private conversation. 'Perhaps now I will be able to gain some hint as to what it is about those waves that he finds so compelling,' Kadrys thinks, 'I will have to be very careful. Very indirect. He is far too intelligent to be led easily into unintended revelations...' As Kadrys joins 'Raelf at the rail, the Traveller is still staring outwards at the undulating surface of the dust as longingly as if a Siren swims on every wave. Kadrys nods amiably at him, pretending not to notice the slight start with which 'Raelf's attention is turned towards him. He indicates the sleeping questers with a tilt of his head. "Don't you - or your human form at least - need sleep? Or are you just not tired?" "Yeah, I'm a little tired, but I can live with it. And I do sleep sometimes, just for the dreams. The thing is, where I come from, sleep wasn't much of a survival adaptation. The first time we ever saw creatures who sleep, it seemed like a malfunction. One of our godcallers was hanging with this human. He cured him of that horrible recurring coma, and then had major hassles trying to put him back the way he started. Poor fellow was hallucinating spiders and things. But normally we don't sleep. We do our dreaming by parts and pieces, and pull it together when we're playing. Not as fast or efficient, I guess, but a lot less danger from outside. And this is no place for me to let down my guard." Kadrys frowns with foreboding in response to this last statement. "Indeed. None of us can afford to take unnecessary risks in this vile place. There is danger here enough to destroy any of us, I believe..." 'Raelf nods in silent agreement. Kadrys turns to face 'Raelf and looks directly into his eyes. For once, the habitually secretive vampire strives to openly display his deeply felt fears for the Traveller's safety. It is a sight that is compelling in its own way, though the stare contains no trace of the charm- gaze. "Then _why_ must you go out of your way to court such risk, to place yourself in peril when there is no _need_?" he asks, in an intense whisper. 'Raelf raises his eyebrows and pushes his fingers absently through the tumbling strands of his fringe. "Well, the risk is part of the joy. That's what makes life worthwhile for a creature like me. The lack of joy is what makes my people die, the eons of tedium and unchanging chaos, of unrelieved randomness, that's why we go out to other worlds, and when that palls, we dissolve ouselves, or split into fragments and give ourselves to future life." Memories rise within Kadrys as he ponders 'Raelf's words: sympathies, resonances on many levels. His expression becomes abstracted, his wide eyes giving him an oddly vulnerable look. He murmurs slowly, "What you say is strangely familiar... I had gone so long without joy, that in the past lived by your older self, the influence of this place overcame me. I lost myself in the curse. For eons beforehand I had existed in secrecy, hiding in the shadows, passing through life without touching or being touched by it, seeking always to go unrecognised and unremembered, for only thus could I survive. I only ever allowed myself to emerge from the night and seek companionship when the isolation reached the point of pain. When I began to forget my humanity. When the capacity to feel joy started to die." 'Raelf nods emphatically. "That's it exactly. The unremitting sameness." Kadrys draws a long breath, releases it in a sigh. "For me, this quest was one of these rare, brief episodes of self-disclosure. But in that earlier time that your older self fled, I erred in coming to this plane. To avoid weakening my humanity, I strengthened my undead curse." "But from my perspective, you aren't dead. You don't resonate with the ideal of Life, which I will forgo manifesting in this place lest we show up as a beacon for whatever lives under these seas. But you were a child of Life, and with my senses, I see you as a being of Spirit power, with only the slight but unbreakable bonds of the Earth you were buried in, the Fire that burns in your veins, the Breath that you do not forgo, even though it grants you little. Finally, the only taint of Water is the liquid coursing of your emotions that gives fluidity to your form, lends you the shapes you choose for hunting. Your curse is visible as chains of Void, of Spirit, that forge the bonds with your nearly discarded physical parts." 'Raelf's eyes spin a pale blue luminance that flashes briefly through the boat, across the sea of dust. Kadrys' body tingles exquisitely as the beam falls on him. For the briefest flash, bathed in that glow, the veins that stand out over the surface of his sinews burn with a blackness more intense than the dust. Thus highlighted, their very shapes seem somehow jagged, twisted, sinister. Negative lightning striking throughout his body, a net of barbed hooks sunk deep into every particle of his flesh. Then, 'Raelf's clear-sky radiance fades, and the disquieting vision vanishes without trace. 'Raelf considers the information he gained from his close scrutiny of the structure of Kadrys' undeath-curse, concluding silently to himself, 'The chains could be broken at that level. I'll have to remember that for our encounter with That Which Shall Remain Power-mad.' 'Raelf notes Kadrys' inquiring expression and resumes speaking aloud. "Kadrys, in my eyes, except for the chains of that curse, your spirit is not very different from my own. You choose. You act to seek joy, to seek your own continuance, to do more than just survive. Life isn't just the binding energies that hold spirit to body. If that were what we were measuring, I would be as much a monstrosity of Life as you are of Unlife." Kadrys smiles wistfully in response to 'Raelf's words. "I hope your eyes see the truth..." he murmurs. After a brief, pensive silence he continues. "When you spoke of life, the first word you used to describe it was choice. Such a paradox, when you observe life from the outside as I tend to do, that the choices which define life often endanger it..." 'Raelf gives a bright, roguish smile, interrupting, "C'mon, old cautious, out with it. You're still worrying about my tangle with the tubulosity, aren't you?" Kadrys grins ruefully at being anticipated so easily. "Heh. More wondering than worrying. I still find it difficult (though intriguing) to imagine the precise reasons for a being like you taking such a risk..." "I went into the dust for four reasons. First, I need to play, it gives my mind a chance to coordinate, to rest, to dream. It's one of the reasons I was so compatible with the spirit of the man whose body I am wearing, the reason why we merged like alcohol poured into water. The second reason is that I could never have passed up the chance to surf those waves. They're a challenge, like the mountain that remains unclimbed, the land left unexplored, I had to know what they were like." Kadrys gives a wry, gently envious grin. "I too have to know. What _were_ they like?" he breathes. "They're purely bitter deadly. I had to shift my mass to elemental Void to nearly the same extreme that you are, just to maintain positive buoyance. And I had to protect myself from their insinuating presence. They're made up of the digested hatred, evil, twistedness and wrongness that makes up this plane. It feeds on them, and they're its waste product. But the physical ride, incredible, and the feeling of constant menace, of riding through and around and being unaffected, it's incredibly bracing." Kadrys nods, smiling with grim, knowing relish. "Perhaps we are in some things more alike than we appear. I have often seen my path through life in similar terms. When I dive into society, make my existence known, I am constantly a breath away from disaster and death, far more imperilled than ever I am when I stay back safe on the shore, in my solitary stealth. But the feeling of being a part of it all, the constant change, the excitement, the joy, make the danger worthwhile. At least for a while. Then I see a larger wave, an insurmountable danger looming, or the loss of a friend makes me too weary at heart to continue the struggle, and I retreat back to the stability of the shore. But I carry the memory with me, and it tides me through, for a time. Until the next time I am driven to take the plunge." 'Raelf returns Kadrys' grin of comprehension. He holds his arm above his head, pushing the palm of his hand towards Kadrys. Fortunately he has seen the Traveller use this strange gesture before, and matches it, slapping his own hand against the other's. As they meet in this gesture of mutuality, the contrast between the two hands, one fine and pale and the other strong and tanned, is striking. "You know, Kadrys, on many of the worlds where I've found humans, there was a teacher called the Enlightened One. A man who found harmony and peace by taking the middle path, avoiding all desire and extreme, finding that suffering was caused by desire. I don't think that's a very good path for you or me, because that which makes our mere continued existance into life requires the desire and the extreme." A moment later, 'Raelf's grin fades and his eyes scan the decks before continuing. "As for the third reason, well, I needed to get off this boat. It's full of helpless enslaved ghosts, and they're constantly whining at me to free them. But only William and I have noticed them so far, and he's afraid to help them for the same reason I can't help. Because if we freed them, the boat would be gone. At least I got them to leave him alone." Kadrys winces as he hears of the entrapped souls aboard, thinking sadly that in some circumstances, ignorance of magery is bliss. "And the fourth?" "I can't tell you that yet. It'll come clear. If not, I'll tell you when we get back to the Inn." Kadrys hides his disappointment. 'Let it drop. Trust him.' Then he turns a sudden interested glance, direct as a rapier, on 'Raelf. "You said you can _see_ the ideal of Life. What IS it, exactly?" "Well, it's not really Hope, but they're intimately tied. Where there is the possibility of choice, there is the possibility of Hope. Did William show you the talisman I gave him, to steady him against this place?" "No." "It looks like this." 'Raelf gestured, and a crystal sphere the size of his thumbnail appeared. Inside, blackness darker than the Sea of Dust, but then, a blaze of light shone forth, a beam flashing across that made the darkness change to a clear transparency. Kadrys could see, staring into the sphere, a lighthouse on a rock at an incredible distance. "The Beacon of Hope, dude. Majorly powerful archetype. As long as there is life, and choice, Hope remains. Even in this place, they can't shut it out, or the Evil can only feed on itself." "Fascinating..." Kadrys whispers, before wrenching his eyes away from the beckoning, poignant spark and turning them on 'Raelf, "...But you haven't said what Life is." "Well, I can't really SHOW it to you, like I said. I can tell you what it means to me. Mechanically, it's the binding force that holds the spirit and body together, allowing the spirit to change, and the body to function. For you, that archetype has been replaced by a bad imitation, a caricature that was placed by a counterfeit of the drives of life, and because you've already met Death for the second time..." "The _Second_ time?" Kadrys hisses intensely. It is as close as 'Raelf has ever heard him come to a shout. "Yeah, everyone meets her at least twice. First when you're born, she separates you from your mother, but for some reason most people never remember that particular talk. Then she comes by again later when the Life binding is broken." Kadrys' reply is unusually heated. "Then why don't I remember meeting anyone? Every moment of my dying is burned forever into my mind! There _was_ no person, no entity that came to me, other than the vampire who murdered me and bound my soul in the curse." "It's a pretty frightening experience, what she shows you. I block it off myself, most of the time. But she's a babe, and therefore I keep that memory. I've got a copy of grandfather's memories of her, too, but he censored the good parts." Kadrys draws breath to deny that any such being could have first made herself manifest to him and then removed all trace of the meeting from his memory, but he finds his mind flicking back to odd scraps of his recent experiences. The unconsciousness which had taken him as easily as if he had never tried to resist. Its exact similarity to the feeling of sinking into the buried 'sleep' which was the only form of unconsciousness he could ever know. The fact that (because while 'sleeping' his soul totally leaves his body) the state might better be called 'temporary death'. The fact that while in that state a prophetic rhyme had been placed in his mind. He considers these things, and remains silent. An ambiguous emotion - awe? fear? wonder? possibly simple speculation - flickers briefly in the dark depths of his eyes. At last he mutters "A ... babe ..." His eyebrows rise in silent incredulity at 'Raelf's bizarre choice of words, "...Perhaps," he adds levelly, "but I feel no desire at all to meet her for a third time." 'Raelf grinned, and whistled a Kansas tune... "Everything is dust in the wind"