Shadowrun - Earthdawn - Mother Speaks

by kubasik

  I saw my giving birth to you in the same way. And it was how I saw falling in love with J'role.

  For so much of my life I'd viewed everyone who'd wanted something from me as people who charged into my life with demands they had no right to make. Now I saw myself as part of the process. I had given in to those requests, and was an accomplice, not a victim.

  It was my choice as to how to proceed. I could float through life one way or another. The winds would buffet me around, of course. And I might not reach my destination. But the course I strove for was mine to set.

  I was searching for you not because you were helpless. Not because the Therans had stolen you. Not because J'role hadn't been around to help protect you. Those were the circumstances. I was searching for the two of you because I chose to.

  One morning, at dawn, Wia roused me from sleep. “We've spotted two Theran ships. No others about."

  Pink light filled the cabin through the portholes, turning the walls the color of a dream.

  An excitement coursed through me, my breathing quickened. I remember now that I gave no thought to the possibility of death — either my own or that of members of my crew. It seemed as if nothing could be easier than attacking two Theran airships.

  "Wake all hands," I said to Wia, and she left quickly. I slipped into my armor — furs provided by the trolls — and walked up to the deck. The sun had just crested the horizon behind us. Ahead of us and to the north floated mountain ranges of clouds illuminated fiery gold. It seemed as if one could really sail to them, land, and discover a new world of pure beauty.

  Our ship cast a shadow forward through the mist of the high altitude, and like a dark beacon, it pointed toward the two Theran mining ships. The sunlight turned their hulls fiery gold.

  There are moments in life where you are suddenly lifted out of the daily concerns, and you find yourself part of something larger — a thread in the fabric of the universe that connects you to something bigger than you could ever have imagined. In that moment I knew I was suddenly part of the history of my land. Krattack's war would take place, and I would be a part of it.

  To either side of the Stone Rainbow — the name I'd given my ship, after the multicolored crystals that ran along the hull — floated the nine remaining Stoneclaw drakkars. All of our ships flew at different heights, and at least five hundred yards apart from each other.

  The trolls usually communicated by shouting or, when too far apart for that, a simple series of signals sent with red cloth. From Vrograth's ship I could just make out blurs of red. This signal was read by a ship closer to Vrograth's, and they passed it on to another ship and so on until a troll on board my ship could read it clearly. Though the trolls had explained the codes, I had decided to always let a clan member read the signals for me, for fear of making a small error with horribly dire consequences.

  As the troll stared off at the twisting flags, he translated. "We attack now." Then he squinted, as if he could not understand the flags, and said, "Now, now, now." Smiling at me he added, "Vrograth very hungry for blood."

  I was, too, the desire for it rested on my tongue, and I welcomed it. My fights in previous years had all been with mindless monsters or the cruelly intelligent Horrors. Or with those who had threatened me first, to which I immediately responded with violence.

  Never before had I hunted out a battle in this way. My breathing quickened. I felt my flesh become warm against the cool, high air. I touched the dagger on my belt. A dagger I'd found on the corpse of a Theran sailor.

  2

  "Prepare for battle!" I shouted. The cry echoed throughout the ship as my crew passed it along.

  From below the trolls at the oars began a rhythmic war chant. Their voices, deep and rumbling, traveled up through my bones, and I thought back to long ago when I was a little girl and my father used to sing me to sleep. Till today I'd thought it was the gentleness of his voice that had made me sleep so peacefully, but now I realized that what had comforted me was its strength.

  The ships picked up pace, and the wind rushed faster over my skin. I called for J'role, and we headed for the fire cannon mounted on the ship's bow. The trolls were unfamiliar with the weapon, but J'role and I had been around fire cannons during our journeys on the t'skrang riverboats. Although we lacked training, we had seen them used, and had practiced firing our cannons while we patched up the Stone Rainbow.

  At the base of the cannon rested a stack of golden orichalcum boxes containing elemental fire. J'role flipped open the back of the fire cannon as I lifted the lid of one of the boxes.

  Heat immediately rushed out, the fiery glare of the coal blinding me, even in the bright morning sky.

  I closed my eyes and perceived the world not with my flesh, but with my astral senses.

  Before me glowed the elemental fire, taken at some time by Theran miners from a crack between our world and the elemental plane of fire. Seen in astral space, it burned white hot and shrieked off white sparks like shooting stars.

  I scooped up the coal, using my knowledge of magic to buffer me from the heat, and placed it in the cannon's coal chamber. I then reached into the sack on my hip and removed some elemental air — also pilfered from the ship's storeroom — and twisted it into the shape of a fuse. This I carefully shoved down the small tube that led into the fire coal's chamber.

  When I finished I pointed the cannon toward the closer of the two Theran ships. During our practice sessions back on Twilight Peaks, we had tried to hit the side of a mountain, just to see if we could get the cannon to fire properly. Now, looking down the length of the cannon, lining up a shot on a ship that appeared no bigger than a cart, I was overcome with despair. There was no way I would hit the ship. I did the best I could, however, and moved the cannon a bit to the left, and then a bit to the right.

  "Hurry," J'role said. "If we wait any longer the trolls will block our shot."

  I looked over the rail of the ship. He was right. The other ships were closing quickly on the Therans.

  "I told them ...," I began.

  "No difference. We've got the shot now. Take it."

  I looked down the cannon one more time, setting its tip on the Theran ship, then remembered just at the last moment to pull it up a bit. A t'skrang sailor had once explained to me that the further the target, the higher one had to aim above it. The fireball, like any object, would fall down as it flew forward.

  "Now."

  Although he could not see the fuse of elemental air, J'role placed the lit torch near the back of the cannon.

  The flames from the torch rushed toward the fuse, like fire pulled up a chimney on a winter night. A strange sight, for in mid-air a tiny flame slowly snaked its way closer to the cannon. Finally the flame reached the tube leading down into the cannon.

  A moment of silence. I steadied my shot.

  Then a tremendous roar as the elemental air inside the small coal chamber burst into flame and made the elemental fire even hotter. The cannon roared as it spewed forth a fireball.

  I stood, tense. The fireball spewed flames and sparks as it went. Within seconds it became a small dot. Fireball and sunlit ship melded into one, and then the fireball smashed into the ship's deck.

  Cheers shot up from the trolls, and their voices carried through the air like distant echoes.

  "Let's get off another one before they get too close," I said.

  "They're already ...," J'role began.

  "Too bad. Let's do it."

  He didn't say another word, and we loaded, aimed, and fired again. Experienced sailors could have done the job faster, but we did well enough. This time the fireball smashed into the ship's castle. Again the fire washed over the ship, like a raindrop of blood. I saw shadows move quickly around on the deck, and then a sailor, his clothes on fire, fell off the ship and plummeted toward the ground. His arms and legs moved frantically, as if they hoped somehow to find purchase against his fall.

  The sight stunned me. I understood clearly now how Vrograth had lost so many of
his people and drakkars. In fact, I wondered that so many had returned safely. The sight might have made me turn from the thought of continuing the fight, but instead it made me cold inside. Another part of me took over — a part whose existence I was aware of but did not like — sealing my compassion away. I could do anything now, with no thought of the implications until it was all over.

  The drakkars had all closed. A fireball shot forward from each of the Theran ships. Ones crashed into a drakkar, sending flames along the thin wooden hull. Some of the trolls jumped up and began beating down the flames with their cloaks. The other shot — from the ship I'd hit twice — went wide past Vrograth's vessel and plunged earthward.

  Then Theran sailors, much more practiced at firing the cannons, got off two more shots almost instantly. Two balls of fire raced toward us. "Down!" I shouted. "Everybody down!" Then I dropped to the deck and rolled until I had tucked myself against the corner of the ship's bow.

  Bright red light flashed overhead, then warmth bathed me. I shrieked in agony as fire licked its way up my legs. J'role was on me a moment later, smothering the fire that burned the furs I wore. He turned me wildly one way and then the other. The motion only made a dim impact upon my perception. Nearly all my attention went to my legs, the flames had burned off my flesh, and the stench of my own burns overwhelmed my sense of smell. The muscles, exposed now to the open, cool air, seemed horribly cold and hot all at once.

  I felt a tearing at my throat before I realized I was uttering a long, endless scream. J'role shouted for Crothat, the questor of Garlen on board. He was a young troll, and still new to the ways of his dedication, but a novice healer was better than none at all.

  But Crothat did not come. When I stopped screaming long enough to breathe, I heard several more cries of pain from the other side of the ship's castle.

  "I'll go get Crothat," J'role said, and stood.

  I grabbed his hand and held rum back. I bit down on my lips as I tried to get the focus to speak coherently. "No. He's either in trouble ... dying ... Or helping the dying.”

  He began pulling away. "He'll help you first ..." My hand had tightened around his, like a baby gripping its mother's hair. "don't leave me. Please." Only as I said the words did I know how terror had dug itself deep, deep into me.

  Already my flesh had gone numb — not just where the fire had struck me, but along my entire body. J'role still tried to pull away from me, and it seemed so absurd to me, because all I wanted him to do was stop moving away and to plant himself and look at me. To be with me. I felt myself slipping away from life, into the void of a world without flesh and color and love. I didn't want to die without someone noting my passing.

  "Releana, I've got to get help." Now he looked at me, and spreading over his face was a terrible fear. "Don't die. Do you hear me? You cannot die!" If possible, fear claimed a stronger hold on him than on me.

  I let his hand go. "Get help."

  The Stone Rainbow continued to rush toward the Theran ships. I heard many shouts and cries of the trolls on other ships. The boardings were about to begin. The voices of Theran sailors floated into my ears as well, as they barked orders and began to prepare for close combat. I heard the blast of their fire cannons several more times, and fireballs crashed into our castle, cracking it and sending shards of thick stone scattering across the deck.

  J'role returned with Crothat. Terrible burns ran down the right side of the young troll's face, down his neck, and onto his right shoulder. The flames had peeled back his gray green flesh, revealing streaks of pink muscle charred black. The muscles had bubbles that sank slowly as he examined me. He looked terribly frightened, but determined.

  "You need to help yourself," I began.

  "Quiet, Captain," he said, his voice straining with a high pitch. "Please, let me just do something."

  He placed his hands on my shoulders and I saw a shimmering in the air behind him.

  More shouts. The firing of the cannons. Screams.

  I felt myself in a nightmare, the kind where one is doomed to remain inactive while one's fate is determined by the chaotic actions of others.

  And then three Theran sailors appeared overhead, magic carrying them across the gulf between ships. They tumbled through the air like acrobats, swords drawn. They plunged toward the deck, blue armor gleaming hot in the morning light.

  Despite the fact that they had come to kill me, their appearance made me gasp with amazement. I remember thinking, how amazing and terrible are the ways of our people!

  J'role and Crothat had their backs to the Therans, but saw my gasp of surprise. J'role started to turn just as the Therans landed.

  3

  J'role whirled around, unsheathing his sword as he moved, raising it high as two of the Theran sailors slashed down at his back with their blades. The three swords all clanged against one another. The blows of the Therans forced J'role down onto the deck.

  Meanwhile, the third Theran sailor swung his sword at Crothat. The troll ducked, but not quickly enough, and the edge of the blade bit into the burn wounds along his right shoulder. The young troll howled in pain, but without pause he pushed himself up to his feet and stretched out one long arm at the Theran sailor. The Theran took a desperate swing at Crothat, but in his fear the blow cut wide. With shocking abruptness Crothat slammed his hand against the sailor's neck and sent the man reeling back into the rail of the ship, whereupon the Theran flipped over the edge. His scream faded quickly.

  The sailor's companions took little notice of his fate, for J'role was on his feet again and the three had joined in intense battle. All three grunted as their swords clashed against one another. Crothat drew his crystal sword from his thick cloth belt. The blue stone caught the sun's light and, combined with my pain, blinded me for the moment.

  When I could see again, a Theran lay dismembered on the deck, his blood a spray of droplets against the wall of the center castle. The other Theran turned and ran, with J'role chasing after him.

  Crothat dropped to his knees beside me, wincing against the pain in his shoulder. He moved me so my head rested in his lap and said, "Close your eyes and let Garlen come to you."

  "You're hurt ..."

  "Please, human. You speak too much. Do it."

  I closed my eyes. I heard him mumbling words in his troll tongue, and though the words retained their harsh consonants, his tone soothed me. Screams and shouts continued to fill the air, but I began to relax. The troll's big hands touched my arms, and a warmth spread through my flesh. Soon this warmth reached my burned legs, and even there a comfortable coolness took hold.

  I sensed a bright light beyond my eyelids, and opened them.

  The pregnant giantess with the silver armor had returned. In her silver armor was clearly reflected the morning sun and all the fighting on the ships around us. She was smaller now, no more than nine feet, and stood at my feet, looking down, stern faced.

  "I thought you were Thystonius," I said to her, for I knew Crothat was calling upon Garlen. My voice sounded thick and far away, and though I knew what was happening was real, I also knew it was taking place far, far from the Stone Rainbow.

  "That windbag of random violence? Not likely." She sounded like a mother with too many demands on her time — not angry or dismissive, but to the point. "And I've never seen you before. I've sensed you, I've been there when you've been hurt before. But we've never met."

  "But I saw ..."

  "You saw what you thought you should see. We're Passions. We don't look like anything.

  You've decided at this time in your life that the essences of conflict and care are similar.

  So we look similar. It's happened before." She leaned down, very serious now. "One of my questors here is trying to heal you."

  "Yes."

  "He doesn't do this lightly, you know. He is suffering himself. He could heal himself."

  "Yes. I've told him ..."

  "But he wouldn't listen. He's young and somewhat stupid. Because he's wasting his time
on someone who doesn't necessarily want to live."

  My mouth opened in surprise, for I had no idea what she was talking about.

  "Don't do that. I hate that. When a Passion speaks the truth, you'd think people would listen. Recognize it as a truth. I'm a life force that winds its way through everybody. That should carry some authority."

  She paused. I had no idea what to say, so I remained silent.

  "Well?"

  "I don't …”

  "Feel it inside of you, woman! I'm that part of you that wants to protect and take care of you and others."