by Joe Jackson
“So the moral of the story is something along the lines of ‘don’t turn away help just because it comes from a source you don’t like’?”
The assassin shrugged. “I am not certain there is a moral; it is not written that way. That is why there is such uncertainty whether it is myth, legend, or historical fact. What it says to me is a warning not to see what we want to see in others, but what is truly there. This is why I have found you so fascinating, Kari. You have syrinthians who were sent to infiltrate your Order now working for you; you have werewolves serving as your eyes and ears across the land; you have forged a bond with the Wraith that few outside the Ashen Fangs – or even within our ranks – ever will; and you have been gracious and kind toward me, despite every reason you had and still have not to be so.”
“It’s weird, I don’t remember being this way in my…past life. Though the more I think about it, I think that had more to do with the shame of my past, and not wanting people’s pity for the fact that I was dying. So I kept most people at arm’s length. But now…”
“Now, you are regarded as a hero, and you are the head of the Demonhunter Order, such that you draw more and more people to you every day,” Seanada finished.
Kari nodded. “Exactly.”
“And if what I have heard regarding that man, Kris Jir’tana, is true, that will only become more so the case should you two become mates or spouses.”
Kari had to think about that for a minute; the half-syrinthian had some true insight there. With Kris by her side, Kari would only draw more and more people to her. His status might be a deterrent to those like the werewolves, depending on how they viewed his father or the pantheon. But he had a rapport with the bah’qitur, an enormous population of fierce warriors. Kari had to wonder if it was possible that the bah’qitur might join in a war against the Overking. She didn’t know what their numbers were like, but even Kris’ brief description of the war on Dannumore pointed to the bah’qitur population being much, much larger than anywhere else Kari knew of.
“Something to think about,” she offered finally. “If you don’t mind my asking, since you bring up the subject of mates and spouses, anyone you have your eye on in that regard?”
Seanada sighed, turning back to the fire. “No. Keep in mind, Kari, that I am considered an abomination among the syrinthian people. I am not around humans enough to gauge whether or not I would be interested in one, or they in me. My choices are limited, and my time to seek out a potential mate is even more limited.”
“Beshathans don’t interest you at all?”
She shook her head. “Not as a mate. It is difficult to explain, but given your profession, perhaps you will more easily understand. If I give myself over to casual relationships, I will lose what…humanity I possess, for lack of a better term. The succubus is always there, Kari, below the surface, waiting for me to embrace the evils of my mother and her kind. There is a reason the syrinthian people see me as an abomination, and this is why I do not take offense to their views. If I am to lie with a man, it must be under the bonds of love, family, and trust.”
Kari put her hand to her chin. She wanted to pity Seanada, but all she could muster up was admiration. She thought of all the times people had explained to her that Turillia had chosen to be rotten, and that Kari shouldn’t have felt bad killing her. She had pitied Turillia; the woman had been dealt such a raw hand, starting at a disadvantage without the love of parents, and with the heart of a succubus to exacerbate things. Kari knew that killing Turillia was the only real way to deal with a being so unrepentantly evil, but she still pitied her for the lumps life had dealt her, if not for the choices she made.
Seanada, on the other hand, was dealt almost the exact same hand. She had the bonds of family and neighbors to hold on to growing up, but Kari wasn’t certain Turillia didn’t have the same thing to some degree. Seanada had beaten down the demon within her, and despite what her profession as an assassin might otherwise say, she had done her best to grow up honorable, loving, and kind. The woman had a muted personality for the most part, but being around family seemed to loosen that over time, even when that family was not her own. Like when Kari was compared to Eryn Olgaryn, Seanada represented one who had overcome, and in that, Kari found the half-syrinthian was even more of a kindred spirit than she’d realized.
“You’re a good woman, Seanada. Someone good will come along eventually. Just don’t miss the opportunity when he does,” Kari said.
“You are very kind,” the assassin replied with a bow of her head. “And I might offer the same advice to you when you return home.”
There was that trace of a smile on her face again, and Kari had to laugh. She had some of her breakfast, and Seanada made tea and brought over cups. Once she was comfortably seated again, and Kari had eaten some of her cereal mix, the demonhunter asked, “So how did you end up finding and working for the Wraith and the Ashen Fangs?”
“He found us,” Seanada corrected. She sat back and sighed wistfully.
Kari got the impression the assassin might have had a crush on the Wraith on some level. Was it his demon-like appearance that called to her inner succubus? Kari didn’t understand her friend enough to know; not yet, anyway. She waited for Seanada to continue, and made an effort not to prod the half-syrinthian, instead letting her speak when – or if – she was ready.
“He came to us when she was but a little girl,” came the voice of Ilsara in infernal. The mallasti woman was wearing a light nightrobe, and she made her way to the kitchen area to fix herself some breakfast. It still wasn’t quite dawn, and Kari suddenly felt guilty that their voices might have woken the mallasti matriarch up. Ilsara continued, “He said that he could train her and prepare her for the life of an outsider. At first, I wouldn’t listen to him; I insisted she would always be welcome in our home and our village.”
“And then the fighting started,” Seanada put in, also switching to the infernal tongue.
Ilsara let forth a joyless laugh. She came and sat with Kari and her daughter by the fire, a bowl of dried meat, fruits, and nuts in her clawed hand. “Yes, then the fighting started. At first it was subtle: she was excluded from playing ball with the other youths. Then she was no longer welcome to play with them at all. Then came the final insult, when one of the other children had the audacity to call her an abomination. I saw then that as open and welcoming as our people and especially our clan normally are, Seanada was not receiving those same courtesies. Then it was as if the Wraith had been watching all along, because he returned and made his offer once again. This time, we accepted his proposal.”
“Her lessons began here, at home. Suddenly it was the other youths who felt excluded, as they watched her train day after day with the Wraith, learning strength conditioning, martial arts, and swordplay. She also began to learn to control arcane force just as our children do, so I was able to supplement the Wraith’s training with some basic arcane skills. Soon, Seanada was the envy of all the other children in the clan.”
Ilsara’s features melted into that contented mallasti smile the more she explained. “When she became a young woman, the Wraith took Seanada away for a time, saying that there were lessons he could not teach her in the presence of family. When she returned, she was a full-fledged woman, upstanding, intelligent, wise, and with the fresh tattoos of the Ashen Fangs upon her breasts. I was a little fearful at first, but immensely proud of the woman she had become.”
Mother and daughter exchanged a smile, and Kari found the differences between them just made the relationship that much more special.
“The Master had to separate me from family to teach me the truth of emotion and how to properly control it. It was only then that I discovered I had a twin sister, but quickly found that we had little in common other than blood and appearance. Turillia was sadistic: she enjoyed inflicting pain, and despite the Master’s efforts to curtail that, she never truly changed. Over those few years, he taught us a great many things, from his fighting style, to remai
ning impartial and calm when faced with a crisis, to how to properly respond to an amorous suitor. They were at times confusing and frustrating years, but he gave us purpose, and I realized I had potential to play a pivotal role in history, if I chose the right course and held fast to it despite any and all tribulations.”
“Just like Aegonn,” Ilsara said, gesturing toward the book.
Kari let out a hmph as she glanced at the folklore tome. Seanada’s tale had come around full circle, just as she’d suggested when she summed up the story for Kari. “It’s just a shame your sister didn’t make the same good choices you did,” she offered.
“She embraced the succubus,” Seanada said, shaking her head. “It is difficult to resist the lure of power, especially when you are wounded and seek to stop the pain. The succubus is always there, promising power instead of weakness, comfort instead of pain, and if one does not recognize the inherent falsehood, it is easy to become the problem rather than the solution. I do not excuse any of the things my sister did, but I understand why she fell so easily into the trap.”
Kari tilted her head to the side, pondering. “Yet you bit the bandit that attacked us.”
“Out of necessity, not spite,” Seanada said. “That is a power I am loath to use, but when the situation demands it, and I can keep the temptation at bay, it is a useful ability.”
“How tempting is it, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Ilsara watched her daughter closely while Kari prodded her, but there was no judgment in the woman’s gaze. Seanada took a short sip of tea and gripped the cup tightly in her hands. “Extremely. The demon says to keep drinking, draining them of their vitality and their power to add it to her own. The urge to try what Turillia did can be maddening at times, and I must often remind myself what it is I fight for. Be thankful you do not share the same temptations.”
“Sure I do,” Kari returned. The other two women turned surprised gazes on her. “Every time I’m out in the field, there’s the temptation to just solve every problem with violence. A lot of people think – heck, sometimes even I think – that all I’m good for is putting people to the sword. But Zalkar’s primary tenet is Love justice, but do mercy for exactly that reason – we can’t just kill everyone that disagrees with us or our way of life. Sometimes, we have to set the example and hope those we think are wrong realize it and change. It’s not always an easy thing to practice.”
Seanada smiled at her mother, and the two chuckled. “Not every problem can be solved with a knife, but I try that first anyway,” the assassin said.
“What?” Kari blurted, unable to stop a somewhat uncomfortable laugh from escaping.
Ilsara explained, “Seanada was a very different woman when she returned from her training with the Wraith. As muted as her emotions can be, she still has that impish sense of humor that she lets slip from time to time. She used to tease the rest of the youths she grew up with by telling them that.”
“These days, it is quite often the truth of things,” the assassin mused. “Like you, I often feel that I am only useful for putting people to the sword. But then I remind myself that even if such is true, it is for a cause, and not out of spite or hatred. We have a goal, one that will take us some time to accomplish, if we ever can. But we only fail if we give up trying.”
“Exactly,” Kari agreed. “So, what do you think the Wraith is planning?”
“I am not certain, but I expect he will be planning what he calls the lackadaisical strike.”
Kari shook her head. “I’m not familiar with that word.”
Seanada translated it into the Citarian common tongue, but it still did little to alleviate Kari’s confusion. “It is a feint. Essentially, we commit a considerable front to a false attack, to see what defenses the enemy has in place. The object is to push just hard enough to get our enemies to reveal their hands, and then withdraw, with the primary objective being survival and retreat. Most canny generals would see through such a feint, but the demon princes tend to be more arrogant even than their fathers. Amnastru may sense and press an advantage that lies in our hands, not his.”
“So we draw him to us, off-guard?” Kari asked, and Seanada nodded. “And we’ll likely find out if he has The Vandrasse with him, or any of those sylinths we were concerned about.”
The half-syrinthian certainly reacted when she heard her mother’s name, as muted as it was. “Yes, the presence of The Vandrasse could certainly alter things, though I believe she will find her arcane power neutralized by our clan should she attack us directly.”
There was a knock at the door, and Kari startled a bit. For some reason, it wasn’t a sound she expected to hear in this place. Ilsara went and opened the door, and a young elestram came running over to Seanada after a brief greeting with the mallasti matriarch. He pulled down the neck of his tunic far enough for both women to see the marks of the Ashen Fangs standing out in contrast to his tan fur. He spoke quickly in the beshathan tongue, and Seanada sat up and then sprang to her feet. She sent the elestram male on his way with a gesture, and he bowed his head to her and then departed.
“What’s wrong?” Kari asked.
“Plans have changed. The Wraith wants us to intercept a small group of King Sekassus’ hunters who snuck across the border into Tess’Vorg. The vulkinastra of Ewuaswi was abducted, and we are tasked with rescuing her and slaying anyone involved in her abduction.”
“I’ll be ready in ten minutes,” Kari said, dashing from her chair and up to the bedroom to get her armor and weapons. She shed her leisure clothes and put on her padded armor, then strapped her paluric armor on top of it. She belted on her blades and then pulled on her cloak despite the warm temperatures: it was likely she’d need the hood up to keep her features hidden while traversing Sorelizar. That might mark her as conspicuous in itself, but there was risk and then there was being irresponsible.
When she returned downstairs, Seanada was armed and ready. She shared a warm hug with her mother, and then another with Aedrien, who had finally joined the family downstairs when he heard the commotion. Kari wasn’t sure what to expect when the mallasti matriarch turned to her.
“Be safe, and may the Great Mother watch over you, even in her dreams,” Ilsara said.
“You as well,” Kari returned. “I don’t want to think about what King Sekassus will do to you if he finds out you’ve sheltered me here.”
“Well, return quickly, and you can help counter whatever it is,” Aedrien said, offering a casual handshake which Kari accepted.
“I will. You have my word on that,” Kari promised. After exchanging a glance with Seanada, the two women left the home.
The streets of Gaeshokk were clear, but those people up with the dawn for farming and other work lined the streets, offering encouraging nods and what had to be well-wishes in the beshathan tongue. Kari wondered where the Wraith was. Was he going to perform the strike against Amnastru himself while Kari and Seanada saw to this rescue? Would he be considered enough of a threat to Amnastru for the prince to reveal all of his defenses? Or would the prince manage to crush the Wraith single-handedly, and inadvertently put an end to the entire rebellion?
“Do you know the way to Ewuaswi?” Kari asked.
“Yes, I traveled there a great many times during my training with the Wraith,” Seanada answered. “We will go on foot to avoid as much notice as we can, and aim to intercept our enemies either just before or just after they cross the border. They should be forced to take a more roundabout route than normal to avoid easy capture by Tess’Vorg border patrols. We will aim to capture them within Tess’Vorg, where we may deal with them however we please.”
“Can you track them with your arcane power?”
Seanada glanced at Kari. “That is one method, yes. I am also a skilled tracker, and there are several other benefits to being half-succubus aside from the affinity for the arcane. We will find them, rest assured; it just may not be within Tess’Vorg as we hope. Are you prepared to violate the law of Sorelizar before
we even engage Amnastru?”
“Let’s go save a vulkinastra,” Kari answered, and Seanada nodded confidently.
*****
The trek back through the woodlands was vastly different. Sorelizar was hilly terrain in its southern reaches, but the forests were bountiful regardless. The sights and smells here, much more pronounced when Kari wasn’t riding in the back of a wagon, almost allowed her to imagine she was back home. The training she’d undergone among the elves in her prior life came to the surface stronger now. This was beautiful country, no matter how despotic its ruler might be, and Kari felt partly at home here in the deepening woods.
Each sound found a place in her mind, from the soft scampering of rodents akin to squirrels to the angry caws of ravens or jay-like birds. The animals were only marginally different than those back home, but seemed to serve the same function regardless of the minor variations in form and color. Tracks became more obvious to Kari the longer she walked with Seanada, and she absently noted things like toe configuration and length of stride to determine what left them and at what speed. Hoofprints marked the recent passing of deer or their equivalent, and as Kari realized she and Seanada hadn’t packed much in the way of provisions, she looked forward to the hunt to keep them fed.
A sidelong glance at Seanada revealed the half-syrinthian deep in thought, or at least completely focused on what was to come. Her moniker of Silent Fang seemed fitting now, as compared to how talkative she could be among her family. And, of course, that was to say nothing of her combat prowess. When this Silent Fang struck at you, Kari knew, death was a near-certainty. Seanada didn’t require the imposing physique or intimidating presence or voice to shake her enemies; anyone who saw her with her blades drawn knew what was coming.
