Therefore when Sookar made as if to attack Kaita, Kaita did … nothing. She stood there, her eyes dead as if in Mag’s battle-trance, and waited for the troll’s great fists to smash her into a pulp.
And that is nearly what happened. But at the last second, Sookar stopped. She stared at Kaita in confusion and irritation. Why should this puny human not flee, or cower, or try hopelessly to fight? And because Sookar knew a little of the common tongue of Underrealm, she was able to give voice to her frustration.
“Why do you stand there?” she snarled. “Do you think I will not crush you?”
Kaita looked up into her eyes and said, quietly, “In fact, I hope you will.”
It was one of the few things she could have said that would spare her life.
Sookar was an old, old troll at that time, but many years before, she had had a child. And that child had died after sneaking away from her and stumbling off a high cliff. For a long time aftewards, Sookar had been utterly listless. She would never have taken her own life, but she had often wanted something else to come along and end it, to end her pain and her sense of deep, mortal failure.
That feeling was still familiar to her, so many years later. And she saw it shining in Kaita’s eyes now.
Her ears flapped in sympathy. Slowly, she lowered her boulder-sized fists, and she sat on her haunches in front of Kaita.
Sookar’s pack had helped her survive the worst pain she had ever known. But this tiny human had no one.
And in that moment, Sookar resolved that she would be Kaita’s pack, as long as she required one.
From that time on, she visited Kaita every day. She saw to it that Kaita had plenty to eat, and she did what she could to keep the area clear of predators that might threaten her. But for the most part, she spent time with Kaita, and she listened. And Kaita spoke, at first in a lifeless monotone, and then with tears, and then with increasing anger, of the wrongs done to her by Thada and the other humans of Tokana. Many of these matters were far beyond Sookar’s understanding, but that does not always matter. Sometimes one need simply listen and share in another’s grief.
And so for many months these two forged a deeper and deeper friendship, a tiny pack of two that treated each other like family. It was in that time that Kaita learned the troll tongue, which few humans have ever learned, and in exchange she taught Sookar to speak the human tongue with much greater skill. And in time, there came to be enough trust between the two of them that Sookar let Kaita acquire her form.
“Useful,” she growled, “if you ever run into others of my kind out here in the mountains.”
Of course, if she ever encountered a troll, Kaita could just as easily turn into a bird and flee. But she knew how rare it was for a weremage to have this chance, and she could hardly refuse. Over the course of weeks, Kaita took Sookar’s shape into her canon, and she was able to become a troll whenever she desired.
After some months of this life, Kaita found herself growing restless. She had shed the desire for her own life to end. Now she wanted to go about building a new future. She did not know what such a future held, but she knew it was not to spend the rest of her days as a mountain witch, alone but for Sookar.
Yet at the same time, she had no desire to leave the old troll behind. Sookar was not closely associated with any pack, and if Kaita left, it would rob her of her last small semblance of family that remained. But Sookar eventually became aware of Kaita’s hesitancy, and she urged her to go.
“You are meant to live your life,” she said, when she and Kaita at last spoke openly of the matter. “This was part of it, but there is more to come. And if you sit here waiting until I have died, you will grow as grey and knobbly as the stones of the hills.”
Kaita laughed at that, though the humor was bittersweet. And so she made ready to set forth from the mountains, and in time she left them. It was not long before the Shades found her, and the Lord lured her to his side with promises of power, and purpose, and revenge against those who had cast her out.
Many years later, Kaita returned to Tokana to further the Lord’s intentions there. She went south at once to go and visit Sookar. Unfortunately, the old troll had passed away some years before. From that time on, whenever Kaita wore Sookar’s form, she thought of it as honoring her memory. And she modified the transformation so that Sookar was young again, and hale, and hearty—the best version of the old troll that Kaita could imagine.
But the truth, which Kaita would never have been able to accept, was that Sookar’s best days were those she spent with the weremage, alone together, deep in the mountains.
THE LEGEND OF MELDIN
Listen now, child, to a tale of Meldin, the Dragon, who lived thousands of years before Underrealm was first named.
Before the time before time, before even the beginning of our world, when the sky had not yet given humanity life upon the face of the earth, a Dragon mother laid five eggs. The sun sang at their arrival, and the darkness at the edge of the world cowered in fear before them. For in these five eggs were instilled the essences that would make possible the creation of all other creatures to live under the moons, and woven into their shells were threads of Fate.
The first and greatest of the eggs held the essence of fire; the second, water; the third, earth; the fourth, the wind; and the fifth held the love of all living beings for each other and for themselves. And all the Dragons knew that one day the sky would take these essences and weave from them all the creatures that flew within itself, and crawled beneath itself, and swam to hide from itself, as well as all the plants that would grow and flourish in the light of its sun. And never had these essences been glimpsed before in all the wide world, and the Dragons wondered to see them glowing within the veins and texture of the eggs’ shells.
And one by one the Dragons came to visit the eggs, and to bow before them, paying respect and swearing fealty to these, the mightiest gifts bestowed upon them by the sky. And every Dragon loved the eggs, and they longed for the day when they would hatch and make possible the small creatures that would fill the earth with life, and movement, and joy. And every Dragon bent all their thought and wove threads of Fate to see to the eggs’ safety, and to protect them from all harm and all evil.
But one Dragon among their number hated the eggs, and her name was Yendil. Yendil was jealous of the eggs and their power. Especially she hated, and yet desired, the essence of flame that shone in the first egg. The other Dragons spoke of how the flame would burn and twist everything before it, and yet when it had destroyed all it had touched, it would bring also the gift of life, turning destruction into rebirth. And Yendil desired this power, and she coveted the egg that held the essence of fire, and she desired to control the flame for herself.
Yet with all the Dragons protecting the eggs, and weaving threads of Fate about them to protect them, Yendil could not destroy any of them, nor could she affect more than one. But by bending all her thought and intent, and weaving every string of Fate at her command, Yendil stole one of the eggs. She took it when the Dragons were bowed in worship of them, and she fled with the egg clutched in her claws, and it was the egg that held the essence of flame.
Then the Dragons wailed and gnashed their teeth, and those who had been set to guard the eggs quaked in fear, and the other Dragons fell upon them, and they were devoured. And then the Dragons who remained saw that Yendil was missing from their number, and they knew it was she who had stolen the egg that held the essence of fire. And they searched all of existence for the missing egg, and they never tired in their hunt.
But Yendil hid herself from them, and she entwined her own threads of Fate with those that had been used to protect the egg, so that the same woven Fate that protected the egg from destruction also protected it from discovery. And she entwined the weave of her own Fate with the egg that held the fire essence, so that she could not be destroyed unless the egg itself was also destroyed.
Thus Yendil hid with her stolen egg, until all the five eggs hatched on th
e same day. And then for five years more she hid, keeping prisoner the fire dragon that had emerged from the egg. And she forced it to use its flames to burn everything Yendil hated, which was everything in Creation, which at that time was all iron and steel, lifeless and hard. And the dragon’s flame spread, and it melted the world, and the sky knew that the flame dragon had been born from the egg. And the Dragons knew it as well, but still they could not find the missing whelp, for they could not find Yendil through the shroud of her Fate.
As the flame dragon grew older, he was always in misery and in pain, for Yendil was a terrible taskmaster. Yendil named him Meldin, and he was her slave, and she made him use his flame over and over again, though Meldin wept to destroy the beautiful landscapes of Creation that lay before his sight.
At last, after five years, all the dragons were grown. And the four dragons who remained free gathered to each other. The dragon of the second egg was called Harish, and the essence of water was hers. And the dragon of the third egg was called Yorprax, and the essence of earth was his. And the dragon of the fourth egg was called Yarlos, and the essence of wind was his. But the dragon of the fifth egg had no name, for she would not claim one until her brother was found, and the essence of love was hers.
As they gathered together, Harish said to them, “Now we are grown, and we are ready to bring life to all of Creation beneath the sky.”
And Yorprax said to them, “But we cannot, for still our brother is missing, and without his flame we cannot give life to all the things that will fly and crawl and swim.”
And Yarlos said to them, “Then let us go and find our brother, for we who are his kin shall find him no matter where Yendil may hide him.”
But the fifth dragon said nothing, and only wept for Meldin, for in her was the essence of love and that is a cousin to grief.
The four dragons thus set out into the world, and they could sense Meldin through all the weave of Fate that Yendil had wrapped about him. For the Fate that bound the five of them was stronger, and had connected them since first they were laid, and Yendil could not hide it from their sight. And the four young dragons found themselves at a mouth of a cave, and they knew it held their brother, as well as his captor, and so they entered it.
There they found Yendil lurking, and she was ready to meet them, for she had heard their approach. And there, too, they found Meldin, and he was trapped in a cage all of starsteel, the strongest of metals, and his flame could not melt it.
“Turn and flee,” said Yendil. “This young one is mine, and his gift of flame also.”
And Yarlos said to her, “He belongs to no one, unless it is to us by the bonds of the nest.”
And Yorprax said to her, “You cannot hide him from us, nor can you keep him from us.”
And Harish said to her, “We shall not flee from you, nor can you escape our wrath.”
But the fifth dragon said nothing, and her grief had turned hot and furious, for in her was love and that is a cousin to wrath.
And Harish, Yorprax, and Yarlos did battle with Yendil. But they were not strong enough to defeat her, for they were still young and untested, and Yendil was ancient and large and cunning. And they thought they would fall before Yendil, and she would slay them, and devour them, taking their essence for herself.
But the fifth dragon did not fight Yendil. The essence of love was hers, and so she thought only of Meldin. And while her siblings battled Yendil, she tore at the cage of starsteel to free her brother. And though Mendil’s flames had not been hot enough to melt the starsteel, the fifth dragon was able to tear them asunder with her claws. And she tore at the weave of Yendil’s Fate, which had been combined with Meldin’s, and separated them, so that their survival was no longer linked. And this was a mighty deed, for no Dragon before her had yet been able to separate strands of Fate once they were woven together.
But the essence of love was hers and that is a cousin to strength.
Thus the five dragons were united again, and together their strength was greater than Yendil’s. And she was defeated, and was torn asunder and devoured. And now Meldin was free, and the five of them gave a great cry of exultation, and such was their joy that it reached every corner of Creation, and every Dragon heard it, and they joined their voices to the chorus.
And then the fifth dragon looked at her siblings, and she said to them, “I have never had a name, for Meldin was gone from us. But now that we are united once more, I shall take my name at last, and it shall be Rowan.”
And together the five dragons made the long journey home.
THE CALENDAR OF UNDERREALM
There are 363.5 days in an Underrealm year. In their calendar, these are divided into 12 months of 30 days each. To reconcile the extra days, at the end of each year there is a three-day holiday called, appropriately enough, Yearsend. It takes place in the middle of winter when the world is coldest, after which the world “comes to life” again. Yearsend is often a time of celebration, when people of all the nine kingdoms take to feasting and revelry, bidding farewell to the year that has ended and readying themselves to greet the year that approaches.
Even-numbered years have leap days, placed in the middle of Yearsend, so that it is four days long in those years.
For the sake of ease, the twelve months of the Underrealm calendar have been given their Latin names from the Gregorian calendar. However, they are arranged in the original order of the Gregorian calendar, with Martis being the first month of the year, as follows:
Martis — WINTER
Arilis — SPRING
Maius — SPRING
Yunis — SPRING
Yulis — SUMMER
Augis — SUMMER
Septis — SUMMER
Octis — AUTUMN
Novis — AUTUMN
Dektis — AUTUMN
Yanis — WINTER
Febris — WINTER
Yearsend* — WINTER
Martis comes just after Yearsend. As with any calendar, the “assignment” of seasons is arbitrary, and the people of Underrealm saw no reason to make them fit the calendar symmetrically. Therefore winter stretches from Yanis to Martis. Spring is Arilis to Yunis. Summer lasts from Yulis to Septis, and autumn is from Octis to Dektis.
In the strictest sense, then, the seasons do not fall where they are delineated on the Underrealm calendar. However, this assignment was seen as a neater solution than having the seasons begin and end in the middle of months, which would of course be chaotic and confusing to everyone involved.
* Yearsend is included for the purpose of showing its order in the calendar, though of course it is a three- or four-day period and not a month on its own.
THE COUNT OF YEARS
“The Year of Underrealm 1” is the year in which Roth, the first High King of Underrealm, ruling from the city of Rothton on the island capital of Dulmun, declared the nine lands to be under his dominion. Though some scholars enjoy debating the exact count, it is generally accepted to have occurred 1,311 years before the Shades attacked Northwood.
(This is, however, an inaccurate counting, since Roth laid claim to Underrealm some eighty years before his granddaughter, Silvin, the third High King of Underrealm, would mark the start of the Underrealm calendar. But this truth has long been lost to history, another victim of the chaos of Underrealm’s early civil wars.)
Years are notated as, e.g., The Year of Underrealm 1312.
WEEKS
Each of the twelve months of Underrealm is further divided into three weeks of ten days.
As we have done, the days were named for planets that the denizens of Underrealm could observe. But this presented a problem: only six planets were visible in the sky. These were named Taya, Yuna, Kina, Marama, Dal, and Kasay in the time before time, and gave Underrealm the day-names of Tasday, Yunsday, Kinsday, Marsday, Dalsday, and Kasday. Two more days were named for Underrealm’s twin moons of Enalyn and Merida, giving them Lynday and Meriday. The Sun led to Sunday, as it did for us, and that was also the Unde
rrealm day of rest.
It is said that before humans came to Underrealm, the tenth day (which always preceded Sunday) had various names among different peoples. And so, when the first High King of Underrealm, Roth, founded the nine lands, he named the tenth day after himself, calling it Rothsday.
Thus the days are, in order:
LYNDAY
MERIDAY
TASDAY
YUNSDAY
KINSDAY
MARSDAY
DALSDAY
KASDAY
ROTHSDAY
SUNDAY
THE YEAR OF UNDERREALM 1312
OCTIS
7 Octis: The Shades begin their ritual in Lan Shui. Vampires are drawn to the town.
9 Octis: A peddler named Halfpace leaves Lan Shui heading north, carrying a weekly report from Constable Yue of the family Baolan. Yue’s report contains mention of several folk outside the walls of the town who seem to have vanished. Vampires kill Halfpace in the night and leave his corpse by the side of the road.
10 Octis: Halfpace’s corpse is discovered. Yue investigates and deduces that he was killed by a vampire.
11 Octis: Yue sends a messenger named Chen to Bertram to warn them of the vampire. That night he is killed on the road.
13 Octis: Chen’s body is discovered by Yang of the family Ton, and Yue is notified.
14 Octis: Yue sends another messenger, Fen, this time to the south to try to avoid the vampire. That night, vampires kill her on the road.
15 Octis: Fen’s corpse is found. Yue advises the nearby farmers to withdraw inside the town’s walls. Many do so, leaving their farmhands out of work. One of these is a boy named Pantu.
The Tales of the Wanderer Volume One: A Book of Underrealm (The Underrealm Volumes 4) Page 92
