Chapter 13 - Part IV

Dund dah du wei bo bo feng

"It tells stories." She finished. "And if you use a different ideograph," she raised a finger and started drawing an invisible character in the air, "ţun means story."

Shar-wu dropped her hand with dramatic effect on one of the knobs. The reverberations of the "Bo" ţun rippled through Onion's flesh.  "The Great Nothing was uniformly formless, existing with neither chaos nor order." Shar-wu began to chant with each word matching a sound of the ţun. Matching the name of the ţun with the meaning that was given.  The Yibouhese was archaic, and Onion could only understand a little, but she could understand enough to know the Yibouh were wrong. "From the original nothing came absence and its opposing extreme, existence.  And from there the opposition began.  Existence enjoyed existence, and absence enjoyed absence, and so each were delineated, just as darkness does not mix with light during the day.  So existence pulled together to make the world, the sun and the stars, while absence clung tightly to in the spaces between."

Shar-wu stopped and glanced at Onion as if to say, "What do you think of that?"  Mentally, she replied, A great nothing? That sounds silly.  How can something come from nothing? ,  but she had gotten good at holding her tongue around Shar-Wu.

"It was very beautiful.  I can still feel the notes in my bones." she replied verbally.

"You should be here when they have a service.  You cannot help but feel the primordial powers of opposites in eternal conflict.  It really makes you think about the universe."

Onion looked quizzically at Shar-wu's last sentence.  She'd never heard the term 'universe' before.

"Truth be told," Shar-wu continued, "There is another reason why I wanted to see you here."

"What?"

Shar-wu pulled another knob and the sound was still in the air when she spoke again.  "I was told to give this to you, discreetly."  She handed Onion a sealed scroll.  "And I'm starting to get worried about you."

Onion took the scroll and saw the seal of the prince.  Roh-ath.  "What have you done to get correspondence from the son of the Empress?"

And why are they sending me his message through you? Onion opened the scroll.

"Do you need my help to read it?" Shar-wu asked, but the text that stared at Onion was not Yibouhese.  It was in Eirdred.

We have an insect needing to return home, and you are ready for your first mission.  You and Cedric will travel in two days.

Onion didn't understand why she was being told this in this way.  Yaj-Oth had said nothing.  Cedric could have just as easily sought her out.  Unless, Onion thought and suddenly she stared at Shar-wu with abject suspicion and hurt.

"Is this whole damn country just toying with me?" she asked who she thought was her teacher and friend, tears forming in her eyes.  "You are one of them too?"

Shar-wu looked shocked and injured at Onion's words.  "What?"

Onion pulled a knob of the Khon-tun and let the sound drown the chamber.  "Are you bei-thal too?"

"What are you talking about?  What is bei-thal?  Is that a Nuish word?" she stammered defensively.

"You say this as if you don't know.  Stop pretending.  Stop all the lying.  Why can't anyone on this evil continent say things as they are.  No.  Everyone speaks as if they have two tongues.  I am sick of you all."

"Vren!" Shar-wu grabbed her student by the wrist, and Onion felt a tug on her web.  "Please listen to me.  I have no idea what you are talking about."

The tugs on her web grew stronger and the next moment, when she looked Shar-wu in the eyes, she could recognize this as sincerity.  Shar-wu had in fact, never heard of this term before.  The realization of this forced a gasp from her lips.

"Oh no."  said she.  "Oh no no no." she turned to the khon-tun again and pulled a knob.  "Oh Shar-wu no, I'm sorry.  Please forget what I said.  Go home.  Forget about this conversation.  Never utter it again."  She looked about the Cathedral.  It was as empty as it had been when they arrived, and the echo of the khon-tun was still present.  "Thank the spider for the Circle of Keepers.  Just promise me," she said, turning her attention back to her web, traveling to the web that Shar-wu never knew she had.  There, she began spinning thread.  "Promise me, until the end of your days, you will never ever again say the word 'bei-thal'." And with the breath of her sentence, the word was suffocated on Shar-wu's web.

"Yes, of course," Shar-wu looked alarmed, "I'll never say it again,"

"What?" quizzed Onion.

"What?" she looked visibly dazed, "Remind me what you just said?  I can't seem to recall."

Onion relaxed visibly.  "Thank the spider."  She pulled herself from Shar-wu's grip and hugged her friend.

The onion story thus far

I'm posting this on the off-chance that somebody tries to read all the Onion posts from day one.  These posts are the most rough of rough drafts so names, language, concepts are often changing as I go back and edit, and re-edit and re-edit.  This is the story up-to-date with all edits up to Chapter 12.

The updated pdf can be found here: https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B9tDRfZXg8tzZUdzdkMtcDB3bDA/view?usp=sharing

Chapter 13 - Part III

Vren met up with Shar-Wu later that afternoon, as she had continued to do every 3 or 4 days of the 6 day week since being recruited by the Silent Scholar.  She still had a long way before she could consider herself fluent in Yibouhese, and the strange art of making marks on parchment to signify words was still a practice done out of concentrated effort; not natural ease.

"Dear Vren." Shar-wu greeted her language student with a hug and it took all Onion could muster to avoid cringing in pain.  The embrace of her teacher aggravated her scarred and raw skin under her clothing.  "I'm glad to see that you've finally started to pick up on Yibouh fashion." she remarked, noting the Onion's gradual retirement of her wardrobe.  First went the Eirdred style, loose but stiff linen short jacket then the Nüish style tight leather torso wrap and belt and finally the nondescript leather breeches that were standard issue for off-duty City Enforcers in Eirdren City.  Instead, they were replaced with soft flowing robes of layered, light silk, known as bhuon with a satin belt keeping it together.  "I wasn't going to say it directly, but... well, "she looked at her student searching for understanding as well as forgiveness, "Well it doesn't matter what I think of fashion in other parts of the world.  Your foreign features really fit nicely with that purple bhuon!  It's so smooth and shiny.  And I love the crane embroidery.  All we need to do now is change those dirty leather boots to some proper ket, and maybe do something with your hair.  You will be gorgeous."

Onion held her tongue, not waning to make an issue of the matter, so all she did was smile.  She couldn't tell Shar-wu that her other clothes were blood-soaked.  Nor could she divulge that the bhuon wouldn't cling closely to her beaten flesh like the leather did.  The loose fabric was the only thing that felt bearable to wear.

"I want to do something different for our lesson today.  Tell me, how much do you know about the Circle of Keepers?"

Onion felt herself involuntarily heave in disgust.  "We have our own gods in the Outer Crest."

"I'm not trying to convert you, don't worry," she chuckled, "You look so unattractive when you frown. But the Circle is an important part of Yibouh, and really, just about anywhere within the Empire.  If you don't understand it, you'll never get a good grasp of half of our idioms and customs.  I want to show you the University Cathedral."

They arrived to a massive building, made of white marble like most of the University on High.  Onion had seen the building from a distance - it was an unavoidable sight from just about anywhere on the campus, bu she'd never been up close.  Looking at the giant hexagonal monolith so closely, Onion felt small, even smaller than looking at the imperial palace.

At its base - a walk around which would probably take no less time to encircle than what is needed to finish one's morning meal- huge stones taller than Onion connected in a circle to form the foundation. of the cathedral.  After climbing two stories of stairs, the building proper began with smaller, but equally smooth, straight and unblemished marble stones were constructed in hexagon, no doubt one side for each Keeper.  

Further up her eyes traveled to see that eventually, after 5 or 6 stories, each wall separated from the other and continued in a triangular spire until its tip.  From this angle, she could not see it, but at each spire's tip, flying buttresses of carefully wrought steel, gilded with vines of gold, bridged each point to a center circle, also made of gilded steel.  Within that circle a globe of polished copper and steel hung suspended, occasionally rotating with the breeze.  The globe was only visible from the palace, being as high as it was, however.  When Shar-wu told her of it, and that it was to represent the world, Onion laughed at her face.

"You're being serious?" she quickly recanted.

"The world is round," Shar-wu replied sparking another laughing fit from her student.

Onion made a gesture of surveying the land from left to right, "Doesn't look very round to me."

"But it is.  Our scholars figured it out ages ago."

Onion liked Shar-wu, but she didn't know if she could believe something so outlandish just on her say so.

After a long climb, the two stood at one corner of the hexagon and before two giant oak doors - imports from Eirdren.  One was just slightly ajar, to allow access to visitors.  Upon entering the cathedral, Onion saw that the inside mirrored the outside.  Where each spire had begun, a huge pillar made of rose marble held it up.  Six pillars in total, alternating with each wall, which helped give a sense of an alcove though no inner walls separated each section.  At each wall, richly colored oil paintings, marble and plaster statues and hundreds of candles surrounded an altar, one for each of the Keepers; Ganthay's altar sat opposite of Sheg's, Vera of Rüern's, and Dagleth of Rel.  To Yibouh's credit, or perhaps it was merely a reflection on the diversity of people that traveled to the University, Ganthay, the patron keeper of Yibouh, had an altar that was only slightly more adorned than that of the other Keepers.

Before each altar were a series of benches that looked more like slabs of marble thrust from the polished floor.  There were no backs to these seats so that patrons could face either the altar of the Keeper they had come to appeal to, or during a service, turn around and face the center of the building.

A railing of rose marble, gold and silver formed an inner ring beyond the pillars, and beyond that railing, the floor disappeared, save one little bridge of stairs originating from Ganthay's side and terminating at the direct center of the cathedral.  It was here that the pulpit rested.  

"Come here," Shar-wu motioned towards the break in the railing leading to the pulpit bridge.  The bridge was fenced off with a black iron grate, but just to the side a simple staircase of unimpressive granite hugged the walls of the round opening in the floor.  After only 12 steps, it stopped at a landing where a velvet bench of red sat before a lacquered wood board covered in knobs.

Onion didn't know what to make of it. “What is this thing? What possible purpose could it have?”

Shar-wu smiled, offered a finger pointing overhead as the captivated Nü took in her surroundings. While the wooden board, with its two dozen knobs or so stood no higher than the nose of a tall man, wires of steel fed through the compartment behind the board, through holes in the wall and up along the sides of the one corner of the cathedral that didn't have doors.  They continued, strong and taut up into the rafters. And well up above the two, and all the altars, about two dozen sheets of metal, all the same sheen of silver and the same rectangular shape, but of varying sizes and thicknesses, lay suspended from those rafters.

“This is called a Khon’ţun. ‘Khon’, of course, meaning…”

“Sound." Onion repeated the word, pointing to her ears, "I know that.” Onion said defensively, “but not ‘ţun’”

“In your language,” asked Shar-Wu, “are there words that don’t mean objects or actions, but they mean the very sounds themselves?” Shar-Wu paused, and stomped her feet hard on the stony floor. “’puţ‘ is what this sounds like, so puţ is what we call it. ţun is a sound of those sheets of steel we see above us, as then bend back and forth with a pull of the knob on the board. Let me demonstrate.”

Shar-Wu lifted a delicate hand but the mechanical Khon’ţun made the knobs easy to pull even by her.

dund dund dund. Went the notes that Shar-Wu selected. The echo of the sheet metal as it flapped back and forth reverberated throughout the cavernous cathedral chamber and Onion could feel the vibrations pulse through her, from her toes to her heart. Surely any within the Sextant ground would have heard Shar-wu’s performance.

She continued, dund dund dund. fa dund woh dund bu. dund.

Onion knew she has heard the tune before, but could not place it. It seemed background noise to the music of her life of late, but spiders are visual creatures, and the sounds of the world often pass them by.

“Why is it not called an ophlin’ţun?”

“Because the khon’ţun does not produce music."

Chapter 13 - Part II

Onion shifted uncomfortably.

He did not wait further for her answer.  "They can be used for that." he said, sensing her thoughts,"But not always.  An attractive child can go where even the most silent and careful of spies cannot.  One this young may accompany me on a mission, as my son, or daughter.  He may be left with the other children, listening in on the conversations of parents, recording every last word."

Vren turned to the child.  "What is your name, boy?"

"Jaune." said he, casting his eyes downward.

"You still do not believe me, Vren.  You must learn to if you wish to survive this." again she felt the sting on her back.  "Very well, go ahead, talk to him.  Get it out of your system so that we may progress.  You think he is human.  You think he has hopes and dreams, memories.  He doesn't.  His body only knows how to behave as he had always behaved."

Vren wanted to be skeptical, but the sinking feeling in her heart told her that she understood Yaj-Oth perfectly.  Nonetheless, she knelt before the boy and brought his eyes to her own.

"Where is your mother?"

"I don't know." he replied briskly.

"Tell me about yourself.  How is it here?"

"My room is where I sleep.  I eat food with other bei.  I do not sleep hungry and I do not thirst while in the care of the bei'thal." he uttered slowly.

"Do you ever have fun?"

"I don't know."

Vren frowned, a little surprised at her own reaction.  She had been on the continent too long perhaps;  she was feeling sympathy for this child what had nothing to do with her clan.  Perhaps it was still the effects of the bei's power - she still did see him as Nü, though she tried hard to see through the illusion.  Though perhaps even a child of Yibouh could be seen as deserving of mercy.  She'd have to think more on that later.

"Jaune." intoned Yaj-Oth, "You are a child of Falloth, .  Your name is Keedavalu.  This is your mother and I am your father.  Go on and play while daddy and mommy attend to their business."

Subtly, the boy's eyes widened.  Light reflected off of his pupils radiating a greenish brown where there were hints of gold before.  His hairstyle did not change, that would have to be done physically, but it did seem to darken in color, while his skin cast a smoother sheen.  Suddenly, he smiled and laughed, looking for something to amuse himself with.  He settled for shaping his hands into animals and plants and interacting with them in pantomime.  It was a game Vren had never seen, neither on the Outer Crest nor in in any of the provinces of Yibouh through which she had traveled.

"Ask again." Yaj-Oth instructed Vren.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" she asked.

"Mama, can we leave soon?  I want to catch crayfish with Vetiamaha again."  What Vren did not see, what she could not see, was that somewhere, in fiction, mythology or observation by one of the Learned over the years, a Keedavalu and his childhood friend Vetiamaha that the bei Jaune drew from to become who he was now.  In exchange for his own personality, he now possessed hundreds, if not thousands, making this goa'bei more compromised of spirit than even his handler Yaj-Oth understood.

"I understand this boy.  He's speaking Yibouhese, not Falish." Vren observed, "Wouldn't that dispel the illusion?"

"It is a limiting factor of the goa'bei, or rather, of bei in general.  Once the compromising process has occurred, we cannot teach them language any longer.  We can teach them words, and we can teach them accents, that is easy enough.  I can point to an object, a sword, call it 'Wuob', but I cannot teach them Eirdren.  There are some things in this world that are too complex for mere machines.

"This is what makes our jobs as bei'thal all that more crucial.  It is our task to know our bei, their strengths and weaknesses, better than we know even our own.  An effective bei'thal has no fear of exposing their bei's flaws, because they use a bei only for its strengths.  A poor bei'thal does not anticipate this and exposes his bei's weaknesses to the world.  Likely, he dooms the bei, or even himself to destruction.  Even worse, he risks exposing the very concept of Compromise to our enemies.  We are so effective because we are not known for what we do.  The day that knowledge becomes commonplace, we are useless to the Empire."

Yaj-Oth bei'thal did not need to elaborate on the consequences of becoming obsolete in the Empire, though the cultural gap perhaps left her with the wrong impression.  The Nü generally abhorred becoming parasitic to their clans.  Yibouh generally abhorred intelligence leaks.  And Yibouh was not recalcitrant in plugging those leaks.

Chapter 13 - Part I

"Close your eyes.  Raise your palms flat and forward."

Good.

Breathe.  Focus on that breath.  Start by counting.  1, 2, breathe in.  3, 4, breathe out, et, auj, breathe in, vok, kuth, breath out.  Then let go of the numbers."

He gently touched the tips of Vren's outstretched hands and she felt the warmth of his fingers permeate her own thin skin.  Warmth, and something else.  A steady beat vibrated through her being as well.  Could it be the beating of his heart?  The flow of his blood?  Or something else.

Yaj-Oth, a Yibouhese bei'thal, pulled his hand back, but the beat continued.

"I am simply making apparent what is already there.  I'm setting you in the right direction, handing you the leash.  What do you see?"

"I don't see anything.  My eyes are closed." 

He slapped her face for that.  "Now is not the time to play idiot, student." he said, but he was not angry.

Vren did not budge.  Instead, she reached out on her web, feeling the presence first of Yaj-Oth, and the 50 or so souls or half-souls throughout this side of the barracks.  They were in all directions, and aside from Yaj-Oth, none seemed to have purpose with her.  She struggled to find what he was looking for.

"The Silent Scholar warned me about this.  Clearly we need to beat it out of you." he resigned himself, drawing the nine-tails short whip from his belt with his powerful hand.  "But my promise to you as teacher is that I will break you of this.  You will be bei'thal yet."  He struck her bare back with enough force to visit her flesh in fresh bloody streaks, but not more.  The wounds broke open others from days past, but they went no further than that.

Vren cried out in pain, crouching her body away from the blow, and her focus lost not only her connection to her web, but to the beat radiating from her fingertips as well.

"Stop it!" she cried.  "Please."

"Why do you play your tricks when I give you the answer into your hands.  Try again student." He continued.

"Stand up straight.  Begin again."

Vren pulled her body and her mind back into focus, moving her attentions to the pains in her body and the frustrations of her mind, to the energy of the air around her.  Again, Yaj-Oth brushed her fingertips and again she felt the beat within her body.

"Focus.  Do not use your head.  The kennel husband does not philosophize with the dogs."

"He commands them to attention." she responded and Yaj-Oth rewarded her with a curt nod, though Vren could not see it.

So instead Vren followed the beat of her own heart and traced it to that of her fingertips, where that foreign rhythm flowed.  This time, she found the connection.  She followed the source of the beat, through the door, out the room and down the hall.  It snaked around a corner and through another door where it found its end - its origin.  Vren tugged.

Within seconds there was a knock at the training room door.  Vren opened her eyes.

"Good.  Good.  Now, command it to enter."

Vren cleared her throat and ordered with the most authority she could muster in a foreign tongue, "Enter bei."

The door opened and a young girl of perhaps 15 tides or so walked in.  She was beautiful, exotic and charismatic.  Vren could not tell where she came from, her skin was dark enough to be considered Nüish, but light enough that in the right lighting, she might be mistaken for Lithenese. Her eyes were round enough for any one of the known tribes of Benge, yet dark irises and a piercing glare could have her be Yibouhese just as easily.  Vren blinked, and when she looked again, she realized her assessment had been all wrong.  This girl was clearly a Nü.  She might be a hauntingly strange, if not beautiful child, but she had a strongness in her face Vren had grown up adoring.

"A bei'thal is not supposed to be tricked by their bei." Yaj-Oth berated, bemused.

Vren looked at the similarly shirtless man, clad only in breeches and leather bracers.  She shook her head and blinked her eyes again, trying to realign her mind through a symbolic physical gesture.  When she refocused on the child, she realized she was looking at a very strange, non-descript child, and a boy at that.

"This one is compromised of appearance.  We call that goa'bei.  Certain features of his face and body will be accentuated, depending on the preferences of the viewer.  He will never age until the day his body finally gives out and will need to be replaced."

"What was the cost?"

"I do not forge bei.  Ask another."

"Why did it have to be a child?"

Vren grimaced as she felt the whip at her back again.  Although it was light, the fresh wounds stung.  "You are asking the wrong question.  How might this bei be of use to the Empire?"

A thought popped in her mind.  An insidious thought.  She was afraid to suggest it, afraid she might be right.  She shook her head in disgust.

Yaj-Oth smiled.  "These are no longer human beings Vren.  Whatever they were, however their lives ended, that might have been a tragedy, but it is over now.  They cannot feel anything.  Nothing you do can harm them further."

The child continued to wait patiently at the door, mindlessly starting into space as he waited for his next orders.

Chapter 12 - Part V

"Khe..." Anita tried.  "Khe, he heb" she tried to pull out her husband's true name from her mind, practically coughing sounds out to give her final goodbye, but she couldn't complete the tune long-silenced in her heart.

She kneeled at the lifeless man and removed her head scarf, revealing a ghastly sight to Keubroc and Reiba.  Her eyes were dried out peach pits barely resting in sockets whose lids could no longer close, as they were not there.  Like streams feeding a lake, puffy, old scars meandered from cheekbone, forehead and temple to those eyes.  She put her hands to those eyes for a moment, and shook her shoulders in a stilled way, prompting Reiba to whisper "What is she doing?"

Before he could answer, however, Anita responded, having easily heard the woman.  "One is supposed to cry, isn't that right?  This is what it looks to cry, yes?"

"She says she is attempting to mourn the man." Keubroc translated to Eirdren for Reiba's benefit.

"I don't see why." Reiba began to reply matter-of-factly, but Keobroc interrupted her,

"Yes, when someone you love dies, you are supposed to cry.  And you are doing just fine."

Anita rose again in haste, seeing her task as accomplished, though no tears were shed.  "I do not love him, of course.  Do not mistake it."

"No, but you did."

"Perhaps.  I don't remember."

"I will tell no one." he promised.  She rewarded him with what would have been a nasty glare, had she the use of her old eyes.

"I will dispose of the body." she said unceremoniously, replacing her headscarf, to the relief of both Keubroc and Reiba, who had been disgusted by her visage.  "and then we must go."

The bei collected the man she had once held in her arms with tender affection.  Her smaller frame made the task difficult, but the exposed part of her face made no expression of it.  She brought it to a large, flat exposed rock where she laid the body out carefully.  The bei'thal had imprinted in her mind the need to erase the idea that a deceased bei ever existed by any means possible.  But fortunately for the man he once was, Davin was to leave the world in the way his male ancestors had since the Nedjleen had been carved from the stone of Mount Kidje by the all-mother.  He would rest in the palm of the all-mother's hands until the father sent his servants to take him, bit my bit, back to the sky, back to the firmament.  The all-father's crows would pick Davin's bones clean in a glorious sky burial and soon he would be sitting with the all-father in embrace of the all-mother and her daughters, the women of the Nedjleen.

Or so Anita would have believed long ago.  Now, she did not know what to believe, she only knew that this was what was done.  She stripped the body of its weaponry first, and pocketed it for her own use.  Of the black clothing he wore, that too was removed, including his chiffon headscarf.  His eyes, like hers, remained eternally open, and eternally dried out.  The lines of his scars, like hers, ran to his eyes and his eyelids were long gone, though the wounds of their removal had long since healed.

She started a small fire, using some dried brush and a few pieces of wood she had salvaged from one of the ruined houses of the village.  To the fire, she first added the clothes, pausing for just a second before finally adding the headscarf, in a failed effort at sentimentality.  It too burned with the rest.

Keubroc was finishing the last of a quick make-shift bandage for Reiba when the bei returned.
Anita walked over to the woman and roughly grabbed Reiba's right arm.  Reiba was pulled up without grace, but the disgraced noblewoman, still in pain and grasping at her side with her left hand, was unable to resist or defend herself.  "You will come with me until I am told what to do with you."  Reiba looked at the bei uncomprehendingly, as Anita's speech had never changed from the Yibouh tongue.

"Good.  You will help me to complete your master's quest.  Let us head to Pho-Boteth, then."

"You are not the one to order me, you who sound like bei'thal.  After the Silent Scholar has worked on you, perhaps our interactions will be different." As if to punctuate her intent, she drew a dagger to his direction.

Keubroc stepped back attempted some measure of diplomacy, "Of course.  Lead the way then.  I will follow."

"I am not going to Pho-Boteth."

"Where then?"

"When you are bei'thal, you will ask that question, and you will receive an answer.  If you are to be who you say you are to be, then you should follow the orders of the masters.  Go to Pho-Boteth on your own.  Begin your training."

"What of Chet?  Where shall this one go?" the gegleth worried, but he was ignored by both the nüdwuob and the bei.

"If you will not answer, then I will follow you.  I will not let the woman who killed my brother in arms walk away from my sight without seeing justice!" Keubroc said with agitation.

"I don't care about your feelings." Anita barked.  "I am trying to follow everything my masters tell me.  This is supposed to be easy!  The bei'thal speaks and the bei obeys.  Yet you and your stupid woman  make me feel that if I obey one of my commands I betray another.  I do not know how better to follow orders!

"You may not follow me.  You may have the scent of Vaughn bei'thal on you, and the words of the insect to back you up, but you are not bei'thal.  I cannot kill you if the Silent Scholar has designs on you, but I cannot show a foreigner anything more.  Do not even attempt to follow.  Make so much as one step towards me or this woman, and I will hear you, and I will kill you and I will kill her.  I will kill everything I see." she backed up, dragging the injured Reiba.

"What is going on, what is she saying?" Reiba shouted, panicked.  "Where is she taking me?" Her face was a mask of pain.  "Don't let her just take me away!"

Keubroc did not move a muscle and he watched the former Lady Archne get pulled away.  He stood frozen for some time as the two moved slowly back down the mountain.  "Keep an eye on that wound or you will not have a prize to return to the bei'thal!" Keubroc called out to her.

When she had left from sight, Keubroc gathered his things.  "Come with me, Chet." he sighed.  "It looks like you are with me."

Chapter 12 - Part IV

"We have been compromised.  Yes."

"Then listen to one who will soon be your keeper.  We will tend to the woman, and bring her, and ourselves to Pho-boteth."

This time, it was not Anita, who stood at a loss of words, but Davin who spoke up.  "You are not yet bei'thal, foreign male.  You hold no power over us." Agitation tried to force its way into his speech, though he had long forgotten how to be agitated.

Without thinking, Davin balled his hands into fists; tapping his foot softly, nearly imperceptibly, he furrowed his eyebrows unseen beneath his chiffon headscarf.  Anita's ears perked at the movement of her partner, but the darkness of the moon-shadow obfuscated his erratic behavior to Keubroc.

"Put away your weapons" Keubroc intoned to Davin with the authoritative voice that had carried him through the early years of the Three-Pronged War, "we are bringing this woman to justice."

"Justice.  What is justice?  This word means nothing to us." Davin barked.

"Then perhaps you do not need to know it." Keubroc replied dismissively.

"Zhijfr."(Snake/deceit) he muttered even more softly than the tap of his toe, but Anita heard it.  With hyper sensitive ears bought and paid for at the cost of her soul, she was the only one who could possibly hear the words of the man her mind once loved.  But her once native tongue now sounded foreign and harsh to her ears.  "Zhijfr vz Akly'ln abh" (Snake on feet the(definite article-plural) mine/our)/ proverb that indicates not just danger, but that careful action would be needed to extricate oneself form the situation - articles come after the noun, are definitive and generative (a/the) and are always required, even when using a possessive)  He brushed her arm gently to call her attention.

Unfortunately, these were words that could not be absorbed by the blindfolded woman.  The wounds had been too deep, the scar was calcified and she had forgotten their meanings long ago.  But for Davin, nourished with the fresh scent of days gone by, could feel the last vestiges of his humanity well up in his heart.  "Zohdil abh affa, Zhijfr vz Akly'ln abh." (Heart of mine forever, there is a snake around our feet)

He speaks a phesra! realized Reiba, after some thought, a forbidden language; a language of those so thoroughly conquered that Pho-Boteth wanted to forget they ever existed.  Which one, it was impossible for her to tell, but what would an agent of the Empress be doing speaking a forbidden tongue?

"Cut out your tongue or I will cut it for you.  We do not know those words anymore!" Anita screeched her reply in Yibouhese.  When the blindfolded man did not comply, she added emotionlessly, "You will do this now.

"I cannot do what was asked of me." he replied, still frozen in a stance of attack.

"Then there is one duty left." Anita recited words that had been burned into her mind and Davin's, and into the mind of any who might be called Bei.  "When the breaking has broken the broken shall be destroyed."

Keubroc stood entirely befuddled with what was transpiring between the two, that is, until the daggers in Davin's hands dropped unceremoniously to the ground.  Reiba relaxed and collapsed into a heap, trying to tend to her wound and stop the bleeding.

"Zhijfr!" barked Davin loudly at Reiba and Keubroc but he followed his orders nonetheless.  He pulled from a long thin satchel of black, hanging around his torso, a jyangye blade, a long, ceremonial dagger too thin to serve any purpose in combat.  He brought the blade to his collar bone before Keubroc understood his intent.

"What is he doing?" Keubroc, "This is pointless.  We don't have to shed anymore blood."

"You do not understand.  You are not yet bei'thal." she jeered at him and put.  "The breaking has broken.  He is useless and must be discarded.  Discarded and hidden."

Davin slid the needle-like blade into his chest cavity with the precision of his training.  The dagger would eventually pierce his heart, and when it was pulled free, his life would quickly drain, leaving behind a nearly unmarred corpse that offered few answers to whomever found it.  This was one of the first lessons Bei learned after they had been freshly compromised.  It was, after all, the most important.

The hilt of the jyangye dagger protruded from behind his collar bone, and he stood, the needlepoint blade now the only object preventing his fluids from gushing from his body.  "You do it, Ehrnyi. Pull it out and end this grey dream."

Anita complied, walking to the man who was once her husband, and placing her grasp on the dagger that would end his life.  As she did so, he whispered so softly that only Anita could here.  "Ehrnyi, Ehrnyi Khelbl, that is your name.  Do not forget it again.  It is too precious to me."

Without ceremony or warning, Anita pulled free the blade and Davin crumpled to the ground.

Chapter 12 - Part III

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Well beaten game paths of roots and hard-packed soil had long ago given way to steep, exposed terrain.  Keubroc had to tread carefully over rocks and loose sand.  He was in his element on the field of battle, not on glorified piles of stony rubble.  Too often he would have slid into a messy death had he not been clinging on to boulders and grabbing twisted tree branches that stuck out in seemingly random intervals.  He was glad at least that the waxing major moon set the treacherous hillside aglow so he could find life-saving outcroppings and holds in the rocks.  The city woman, Reiba, must not have been struggling, since she maintained her distance, but as to how, Keubroc could only guess.

The woman still hid far too much to be trusted, and in honest moments with himself, Keubroc suspected she would hurt the cause more than help it, with her rash behavior.  White Feather had placed far too much trust in her, and he surmised he might end up with a knife in the back for his efforts.

In love, sorcery or with the arrow or blade, a woman trusted is a man betrayed. Keubroc thought of the old adage to himself, but not without mentally noting that whatever her politics, Reiba was making herself useful at the moment.  But this creature, this gegleth, he could not make sense of.  He couldn't even begin to fathom how long these creatures had been co-opted by the Empire, nor what information they might be giving to her wisdom.  It worried him.  He'd had to find a way to inform White Feather or at least someone else of the Hawks of Chosen.  But White Feather chose the time and place to meet him, not the other way around, and few Hawks gave freely their true names.  Keubroc had no idea who else might be his ally, and who his enemy.

What he was sure of was that the former Lady Archne was not.  At least, though it appeared their goals might align, whomever her friends were, they weren't the Hawks.  Keubroc had visited Reiba at the Archne Estate to find out if she might join their ranks.  Even now, after all they had been through with Vaughn, he couldn't give White Feather a clear answer.

She's a very smart whore, isn't she.  Reiba had taken to those throwing daggers he gave her very quickly.  And for a woman who had never stepped out of Eirdred, she was adapting to the new environment quite well.

But she could also be very stupid.  Impulsive even.  He did not know much of women for sale, but he found it difficult to comprehend how she had managed to be so successful in that life.  Seduction is normally thought of as a subtle art, yet he'd not seen a moment of discretion from her.  She would not have lasted long in battle.  he thought, harking back to his memories of the Three-Pronged War.  The gegleth must have gotten suspicious because one night it had left a primitive pit trap in its wake.  The injury she sustained when she fell in was minor, but it was enough for her to chase down the gegleth and put a gash on the creature's face.  Keubroc had caught up and stopped her, yelling at the blueish bug-man to run away and seek safety.  Now instead of heading in the direction of Pho-Boteth, a relatively flat journey, the creature veered due west and up the imposing ridge of sky scraping mountains.

It had been her idea to split up and maintain at least the illusion that Keubroc chased Reiba, and not the creature.  It was a good idea, if only he could trust her.  Somehow, she could follow the gegleth's travel path.  That was a mystery still needing to be solved if he did find a need to remove her.

He was still considering the woman when he heard the struggle.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The sound of heavy panting - a product of the steep climb and the thin mountain air - was soon accompanied by a tired face, to the surprise of only the gegleth.  In unison, their heads covered in blue-black chiffon shifted slightly to face Keubroc, by habit, as their visual senses told them no more about the visitor than they already knew.  The light of the waxing major moon illuminated the pair, but Keubroc found no recognition in their covered faces.

Reiba, daggers, one in each hand, crouched like a coiled spring.  From her side sprouted a small throwing dagger and a small blossom of blood, and Keubroc realized that her stance was merely for show.  The next blow would be the last, and she would have little means to defend herself.  She faced the male of the pair though Keubroc's arrival had stayed both of their hands for the moment.

"The other is here!" Anita screeched in an even high pitch in fluid Yibouhese that bore an uncustomary coarse accent, baring her teeth in aggression.

"They can see!" Reiba said to Keubroc forcefully, "They are not blind!"

Frozen still, he coughed out to Reiba in the tongue they both knew, Eirdren, "Where is the creature?"

"He is in one of those ruins.  Don't underestimate these two.  We need to get through them to get the creature."

Though their eyes were hidden beneath their headscarves, he made a gesture of open palms all the same.  He lay his short blade down, slowly, and the steel clinked against the bare rock.

"What are you doing!?" Reiba yelled, her voice incredulous with a feeling of betrayal.

He did notice that it was only at this moment that the female relaxed, ever so slightly, but he said bluntly, "We both serve her Wisdom.  I see no cause for violence." he responded in Yibouhese.

Davin and Anita cocked their heads to each other in confusion, as if to simultaneously defer to each other to make sense of the situation.  If Reiba understood the language of Her Wisdom, she did not appear to absorb his words and remained in her hobbled defensive stance.

"Capture this woman.  She is responsible for the death of Vaughn bei'thal and will stand before the Light of Heaven for her crimes." he ordered, mustering the commanding spirit he once embodied in warfare.

"We are revealed to an outsider." Anita whispered, horse from her prior screams.  "We know this one, Zaexyl, of house Archne.  Formerly Reiba, courtesan and madam.  The order is clear.  Those who are not to know, when come to know, must die with the knowledge." Davin nodded and Anita turned to Keubroc with a louder voice, "Your request is impossible."

"What benefits the empire is to have her live.  You say you know this woman, then you know the trouble she has caused.  We cannot get answers of her crimes from the dead, but alive?  That is is a far more useful proposition."

"We do not know you." she said, practically sniffing the air around them, searching for a familiar scent.

"You do not need to." he did not so much ignore the question as recognize that his answer would not have satisfied them anyway.  His name was a mere collection of sounds holding no meaning.  But he had the sense that there were a collection of sounds they did long to hear.  More importantly, hands still open, he reached into his pack and produces a sack of linen cloth, the same sack that had once held the provisions of the dead bei'thal.

Keubroc was gratified in a slight tilt of the heads of the man and woman before him.  "This we know." Anita snatched the sack from the SecondSword and sniffed it, taking in the scent of cheese, acorn pancakes, and Vaughn bei'thal.

Her face perked up, like a dog hearing its master's call from far away.  "You say he is dead?" Anita asked methodically as if reading off a mundane list of banal questions.

"I was witness to the deed.  He is dead."

"Then he cannot command us anymore." replied Anita without emotion.  "And you are not bei'thal, but you have said their title."  She drew a small dagger.  "Davin, remind me of our first mission."

"Unseen, unheard, unfelt.  And to those who do, unmerciful."

"This is disobedience," Keubroc yelled, but he made no move towards his weapon.  His heart beat threatened to leap out of his chest, but he suppressed it with a calming exhale. "Your master, Vaughn bei'thal, pursued this woman to bring her before the Light, and you will make his effort be in vain?    You are defective bei if you cannot follow simple orders."

"You do not command us.  Only the bei'thal." Anita gritted her teeth in a display of of agression, but Keubroc kept his gaze at her strong and resolute.

"For failing your master, will be flayed, striped of everything, bare to your soul, your own masters will crush what is left of you to make fodder for beasts.  You know this."

"This has already come to pass.  Your threats mean nothing."  she responded, but nevertheless she stayed her hand,  "You do not smell like bei'thal."

"Not yet."

Anita froze, caught in a quandary where the tools she needed to decide friend from foe were stripped form her long ago.  Tension hung thickly on the cold night air and a slight breeze through the abandoned village produced a whistling noise that reminded Keubroc how inhospitable this place was.  After a long pause that could easily be misinterpreted by others for deep thinking, she finally re-sheathed her dagger.  "Very well.  We will not kill the one who sounds like bei'thal.  We will let him finish his service to Vaughn bei'thal."

"I'm not sure." Davin responded softly, but his hands moved to the knives slung around his waist and tapped them gently.  "The man must die.  The woman must die."

Unexpected words from Davin caused Anita to turn to her partner, "You are not sure?" she repeated with an echo of accusation that was interrupted by the sound of crushed pebbles beneath the clawed feet of the gegleth.  He slowly tiptoed out of the abandoned house he had been hiding in.

"Tkkt tkkt," his antennae rubbed together, drawing attention to himself from Keubroc's intense, darkly lined sandy brown eyes.  His voice, much more composed now, flowed smoothly with a measure of confident charm in Yibouhese.  "The Archne is dangerous.  It should be done to not trust the Archne.  The Archne is not to be trusted.  Such a female even the drones would not take.  But the Nüdwuob was friend to the bei'thal Vaughn."

"Return to your hiding insect," Anita venomously spouted, "When it is safe, we shall call for you.  You have the same duty as we."

"This one has no fear, for the others have already seen." he said, but he retreated nonetheless.

Keubroc used the opportunity to command the conversation once more. "I shall take the prisoner, I shall take the creature, and if you desire further orders from our masters, then we will travel together to Pho-Boteth, where the bei'thal will direct you bei.  For that is what you are, isn't it?  Bei?"

Chapter 12 - Part II

"Someone is near." Davin's ears perked up as he scanned for the alien sound of sentient life miles away.  His compromised ears poked out from underneath the scarf that covered his charred eyes and he inhaled deeply, seeing if his nostrils could provide more information.

"He comes from the northeast.  Quickly.  Panicked." Anita relayed to her companion, "He is coming here.  A gegleth." and she turned her back to him once again, humming a forgotten tune as she entered one of the hut ruins and proceeded to thrust her hands into a long empty basin of stone that once served as a vessel for cool, crystal clear water from the nearby springs.  Her pretend basket of berries she submerged and retrieved several times, clearing the imagined debris to prepare them for cooking or drying.

Then suddenly, she stopped.

"Two more.  One soldier in armor.  One young man, or maybe a woman." Davin acknowledged her report, though he could not verify her claim with his own ears yet.

"How much time until they arrive?"he asked, as he followed a whim to go through the motions of cleaning the carcass of a mountain goat that had existed only in his mind.  If he were alone, he might have resisted, but the allure of falling into their old routine was too powerful with her going through the motions in the kitchen.

"At least 8 hours.  Considering the gegleth will not travel during the heat of day, I do not think it will arrive until past midnight." she continued to shake the water dripping from the basket until she was satisfied that not one drop of imaginary water was left.

Davin stopped his motions and looked at her in her trance.  "What should we do about it?"

"I don't know."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Heavy panting cleanly echoed off of the sweeping granite walls of the alpine valley.  The major moon was high in the night sky, giving off a radiant glow of moonlight on the silent ruins of the old Woodswalker village.  Minutes later, the blue antenna of the gegleth could be seen.  The two bei had been waiting for him, silently laying where once their bed of down and fleece stood.  The straw roof long gone, their dried out eyes pointed directly to the stars, though they could not see them.  Sound, touch, smell and taste could not travel so far from the heavens.

They got up to greet the gegleth in the village's path.  They could sense the sweat beading from the creature's forehead.

"He smells strangely." Anita whispered in the ear of her fellow bei.  "Where is his usual scent of lilac blossoms?"

"It is fear." Davin replied simply under his breath, "But I have never smelled the lilacs before."

"They all smell of lilacs."

"I see."

They were interrupted by the gegleth when he approached them.  "The woman follows." he said in desperate, scratchy and broken speech,  short of breath.  Not at all the charming voice Anita was accustomed to hearing.  "She was captured.  Escaped?  Unknown.  Tkkt tkkt."

"Sit down and rest insect." Davin ordered though his voice was devoid of condescension.

The gegleth looked at the two bei with a measure of offense but said nothing.  The gegleth creatures and the bei often crossed paths in their service to the bei'thal and the Empire, but never had cause to interact.  Yet this was the only option available to him now.

"You are the gegleth who dug the tunnels at the Archne Estate?" Anita accused, frustrated perhaps at her inability to distinguish the smells of the gegleth with his mask of fear.

"Tttcchhkkt." he sighed, "No... not all gegleth look alike kind lady."

"It does not matter.  We cannot see." Davin informed.

A pause between the three of them lingered uncomfortably for the gegleth as he anticipated further questions, but got none from the two.  They waited patiently for something to happen, but seemed unable to serve as catalyst.

"Chtrttcht is the name.  Humans cannot say it, so call this creature Chet."

"Your name is not interesting." replied Anita before the creature finished the last syllable of his sentence.

"The bei'thal no longer act in shadow.  This has been learned for the bei'thal."

This sentence finally won the attention of the two bei, though the victory was only momentary.  "Do you have orders from a bei'thal for us?"

"No.  The Vaughn bei'thal ordered a return to the Pho-Boteth place.  But shouldn't the one who is yourself concern themself with the news this one brings?"

"That information is useless to a bei.  Tell it to a bei'thal.  Why have you not returned to the city?" Anita questioned.

"The Archne follows."

This also won another few moments of undivided attention, but the bei did not know what to do with this information.

"The Archne comes here." he added.

"We know." Davin arched his head to better hear the two humans in pursuit.

"I cannot hear its voice.  Where is its guiding song?" Anita whined to her counterpart.

"The Silent Scholar cannot hear us." Davin reminded her.

"And we have no bei'thal.  We cannot help you insect."

"Perhaps you will stay in this house." Davin pointed to one of the ruins.  He, like Anita, had no ability to plan what to do, but his instincts told him that if he and his former love put themselves between the quarry of the Archne woman and Zaexyl herself, a situation might resolve itself.

"She is here." Anita noted without warning.

Chapter 12 - Part I

Grey skies had filled the shallow valley leaving smooth sloping walls of granite feeling robbed of life and dull.  High above jagged windswept ridgelines and peaks, the sun usually bore down with burning intensity, though the ambient air could rarely be considered warm.  Blue-green mosses and native grasses clung tightly to the greys, pinks and tiny crystals of the imposing rock, lest they be swept away by frigid alpine winds.  Gusts of biting air chilled Anita to the bone, even while thoughts of the ice and snow of ColdTide celebrations of the coastal folk were still a minor moon away.

It was already much later in the season than they would have stayed, even if any of them had still been alive.  Somehow, she knew that seeing the village this time of year would have comforted her.  The two rows of granite houses had long since been washed of the blood that stained them, the ash of burned straw roofs had not lasted long in the wind.  She could have pretended that nothing was different, that her people were simply in the hollows below, in their iconic houses of the madrones, maples and giant firs; the lifestyle from which the Yibouhese had named them.

IunDzuehr - Woodswalkers - they foisted the name on them just as they had done so with Anita and Davin when they began the process to become bei.  Anita could no longer remember her name, nor that of her people, but in a different era they had called themselves Nedjleen.

The Yibouhese, like those of Eirdren, and most coastal peoples, celebrated time with the phases of the moons and the swelling of the oceans while the Nedjleen saw the passage of time with the coming and going to the chill winds and ice, and their annual migrations back and forth to their alpine and wooded homes.  As such, the coastal peoples prepared in these months for the ColdTide celebrations - the one night when the major moon was highest in the sky and the minor moon could not be seen so long as the sun was gone from the sky.  But for Anita's people, the festive time of Descent was over, and when the sun fell, the constant moonlit sky was an ill omen of hunger on the way.

They had been an old people - well older than the clever agrarian folk living further down in the valleys and plains who eventually built a shining city of marble white.  While it stood at the crags at the base of mountains, Woodswalkers had been pushed further up the hollows and further from the mighty firs their ancestors once used for homes year-round.  For hundreds of years, though she encroached further and further, Yibouh did not bother them in the summers when the Nedjleen inhabited this Alpine refuge.  Here, they collected the blueberries and mountain cranberries that grew in the meadows and glacial bogs, and caught fat little rodents called marmots or the occasional bear - all of which they dried and cured to bring down in the winter months for as long as it would last them.  Here they were allowed to make a life for themselves, until little more than a decade ago.

Anita strolled though the forgotten village, as she did when she was still a maiden.  Her hands extended out, as if she were carrying a basket heavily laden with sweet berries of the summertime, though she neither recognized her actions, nor could she recall those happier days even if she had.  The blindfold about her head whipped in the winds like her headscarf might have once, but the familiarity had long since been scorched away.

They always seemed to come back here though.  As they awaited the call of the Silent Scholar, Anita and Davin usually wandered up to this rocky grave of the Nedjleen, ever since one particular mission saw their bei'thal slain and them aimless without instruction.  Somehow Davin had found enough articulation to request these visits whenever they were unoccupied, and while most of the bei'thal feared desertion or violence from an unguarded bei, the Silent Scholar held no such concerns.  It knew too well that a lost dog wants nothing more than to go home.

Davin made mental note as the woman who was once his bride shuffled down the sandy path.  She did not know what she did, but for him, feeling her existence there was his only tenuous connection to life.  He felt a desire to pick up his spear and join his fellow scouts, the arms and lets of the Nedjleen, in stalking fish in the glacial lakes, and while the knowledge that his fellows were dust saddened him, it was a feeling.  In a reality of numb, the sadness was addicting.

Chapter 11 - Part X

"I am Keubroc Mecmae.  That is the most important thing for you to know now."

Reiba looked up at the man who was still wearing his standard issue City Enforcer leggings and boots, but no tunic, as he stared at her directly in the eye.  He did not unbind her, but proceeded  to leave.

Reiba struggled in her braces but said nothing for a long while while until he approached the edge of the clearing. "Are you leaving me here for the mountain lions to eventually find me?"

His eyes narrowed in on hers suspiciously, "Who are you, exactly?"

"I am known as Zaexyl Archne.  You know this already." she spit with equal suspicion.  But before Keubroc could drop his gaze from her face in derision and disappointment, she added, "But I am Vel'Reiba." she replied, using the custom of family name first, in formality as was often done among the common class in Eirdred.  After all, only nobles were important enough to warrant distinction from their kin.

"And what would make Vel'Reiba think that it was a great idea to destroy the ancestral Archne Estate, when she had to know that the City Enforcers, not to mention the bei'thal, would soon be following her?"

Reiba had no trouble making the connection between the Eirdren term bei'thal and the Sandoran term bhe'hel, nor did she take long to put the pieces together that if the Second Sword made up the first part of that pair, then the dead man at her feet was the latter.

"He was bei'thal then?" she nodded to the corpse and Keubroc slyly grinned and knelt to meet her face to face.

"Then you do know of them."

"You have told me as much." she retorted quickly.

"Your face betrays you," he uttered in an even but stern voice,  "As it has betrayed others before.  This is not the first time their existence was made known to you."

Reiba was unmoved.  Unwilling to let on more than she had to, she admitted to nothing and the silence dragged on.  Keubroc gave her one last look, and pulled away from her.

"Unbind me.  You would leave a woman to die helpless and alone?  At least kill me if that is your goal."

"We live in an unforgiving world." was all he said as he rose and turned away.  "Surely you know that."

She stung back, "Then was it a lack of forgiveness that ended your companion's life?"

"I bore the man, personally, no grudge." Keubroc responded defensively, "but he was a warrior for an oppressor I cannot tolerate."

"Then our enemy is the same." she finally admitted.  "And you did not come to the Archne Estate that day to spy for her Wisdom.  You came to find out about my loyalties."

"You made my efforts useless.  I returned to a burned out hull, instead of the gilded Archne compound I had left."

She kept her hazel eyes zeroed in at the stout man, suspicious, but suddenly seeing him in a new light.  She decided to take a leap of faith by engaging with the nüdwuob in a different way. "Help me follow the gegleth.  Help me find out where it leads, help me prove that it is Yibouh that is using these creatures for something.  Our supposed leaders, our lords and ladies of whom I once considered peers are fractured and disorganized.  But something real, some visible threat will rally them.  If we can bring them real information about these creatures, and about your so-called bei'thal, we might be able to scare them into action; into rebellion." she pleaded though Keubroc by now she was speaking to his back as he started walking away.

Keubroc turned his head back and looked at her, stupefied with her outlandish claim.  "You killed off one of their own, insulted a few more, and destroyed a veritable palace of stone and oak that had weathered countless generations prior.  You cannot possible delude yourself enough to think any will listen to you?"

"I don't have to be the messenger." she retorted, "Somebody has to get their hands dirty, and" she looked about herself, and the soils and mosses that cradled where she lay, "I am no stranger to a little dirt."

"Then you are not alone in this?" Keubroc observed shrewdly.

"I have some friends." she replied simply.

"Who?" the man's brown eyes narrowed in focus on the woman.  Bound and uncomfortably strewn on the ground though she was, she did manage a dismissive head shake easily convincing the Second Sword that he would not get his answer anytime soon.

"You want my help but you will say nothing?"

"What you don't know may help your cause more by remaining a mystery."

Keubroc paused, not fully trusting her, she was far too dangerous to ever do that, but seduced by her claimed motivations. "How can you track this creature?  What stalking skills are taught to a woman of the streets?"

Reiba laughed at his poor choice of words, but returned to seriousness when she said, "I track smarter.  There is some usefulness to the things these 'bei'thal' can do."  She nodded in the distance, feeling the red pill dangling from her concealed necklace make contact with the bare skin of her sternum, "The creature is in that direction.  It's stopped running and is probably in a trot - maybe it no longer fears; but it heads due southwest.  They don't seem to be incredibly fast.  Tough, yes, and high endurance, but they cannot travel during the day so it is easy to catch up with them."

"Alright." he considered, "You may join me.  For now." and he began loosening her binds.  His thick fingers ran over delicate wrists now rubbed red with friction.  For the first time, he also noticed just how sallow her cheeks were, and how her thin skin clung to her now bony arms at every chance.  He would need to return to last night's camp to collect his pack anyway.  Whatever Vaughn possessed, he would not need any longer.  The bei'thal likely had rations that Reiba could recover.

The moment Reiba was freed from the braces, she wrung her wrists gently, wincing and and gasping quietly in pain.  She quickly moved to unlock her ankles and carefully freed herself from constraints violently forced upon her.

"Perhaps they are compromised?  Are they bei?" Keubroc thought out loud.

"Bei?  You suggest that the art of the bei can be performed on the living, not just objects?"

"That is what I have been told.  It would give explanation to their cooperation with Yibouh."

Reiba considered this information for awhile and a thousand thoughts flourished in her mind on the possibilities, and the dangers of compromising a living being.  The idea fascinated her.  "Have you ever had the opportunity to sit on the outskirts of Eirdred City in the company of a multitude of Soan families?"

"Assuredly not.  Life as a City Enforcer does not cultivate any trust from those nomadic caravans, though their trade depends city populations secure enough to buy the gems they have to offer."

"Nor have I.  I've never left the city walls before now.  But the man who went in my stead informed me they are quite the festive event."

After the final meal is eaten in the evening, they all gather around the campfire, which is not too far from being a bonfire, but calm enough for a single voice to be heard.  And then they tell stories."

These stories, parables really, are passed from Starwoman to Starwoman - their story tellers -who lead the group in story, chant and drink.

But they are learned as a group, because they cannot be told without the audience providing the sound of steel on steel, or a herd of stampeding wehkax."

When I wasn't occupying myself with thoughts of the Empire, I was a benefactor to a number of small causes, including one man who wanted to record these oral histories and myths.  And one of those, the Keiyafhoa, was horrifying enough to stick with me throughout the tides.   It quickly surfaced to my mind when I first found the gegleth.  Your fellow said the Soa and the gegleth lived symbiotically, but my sources suggest it is rather parasitic instead.  They steal girls who have not yet had a child in their bellies, for what purpose I cannot know."

"Beyond the oral histories, what actually happens to Soan girls is uncertain, if it happens at all, but I do not think this story is pure imagination.  The blue skin, the subterranean habitat, these details in the oral histories that seem to match so closely to these creatures causes me to suspect at one time these gegleth abused the Soa, and their painful memory of that was cast into the myth of a bedtime story.  I have one version of the story in my satchel.  I'd be pleased to retrieve it for you if you permit me to return to the grove where I had been sleeping."

Suddenly Reiba found herself pushed up against the rough bark of a particularly old oak as Keubroc's hands searched her person for any hidden weaponry or tricks she might be carrying.  She didn't resist, even opening her hands in casual submission.  His hands slid over the small blood red pill necklace but he seemed uninterested.  A few seconds later, Reiba, now bereft of a couple of small daggers hidden in her boots, led the way back.

"I would have liked to hear that dead man speak a little more." she whispered subtly, as if to avoid raising attention from the newly dead.

"What did you say?" Keubroc perked up in attention as he followed her.

"Why would these gegleth serve the Empire?  The Soa saw them as monsters." she asserted.

"'Nothing less than the continuation of their species.' he had said.  If what he says is true, by threat or by bribe they are not simply offering Yibouh their services, they are fully dependent on the Empire."

The two left it there and there was an extended silence between them, punctuated finally by Reiba, "There is one more thing.  Why now?"

"What do you mean?"

At their destination she stopped and eyed him in earnest.  "You saved my life, whether you meant to or not.  Why did you kill the bei'thal now?"

The stout man brushed his fingers over his close cut bistre brown hair, clearing his wide head of the leaves and dirt he had earned in his pursuit of the lady.  "Miss Reiba, what you don't know may help your cause more by remaining a mystery."

"Fine." she mumbled curtly as she handed over a thin ledger of cleanly inked parchment.  She had offered him a chance at clear honesty, and he had turned it away without a thought.  She still couldn't read him yet, but planned to change that with time.  "Hurry up and read it.  Understand what we are dealing with.  We need to move soon if we are going to catch up."
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Keiyafhoa
As translated by Tsil Heurik
(Soan Cultural Notes to be deleted: 1) There is a Soan saying, that every man is part Geon - following the expectation that all men would of course want to become fathers, not to mention those who become merchants or cowboys of the wehkax - but not every woman is gifted with one of the faces of Dharaad.  Those who are, Shamans, Storytellers and Map-makers are held in very high regard. 2) every child is a reflection of Tseoh, one hopes that they reflect that of the hope or the beloved, and not that of the trickster)  3) coo => the onomatopoeia of being loved, u-hah => that of crying, gkeh => that of anger

Starwoman:
Keiya, lovely of her race.
Soil born and starlight bred, 
Soft black hair upon her head,
The form of Tsoeh's second face.

Response:
The form of Tsoeh's second face?
Truly a beloved by all who knew her.
coo coo coo

Starwoman:
Naive in her maidenhood.
At the age when youths draw glances,
When hearts flutter at touch and dances,
Paid for love more than she should

Response:
A girl's desires wholly fulfilled
Must always lead to weeping.
u-hah u-hah u-hah

Starwoman: 
Would you hear the lesson of Keiya?

Response: 
Teach us, Starwoman, guide us by your light. 
Bring forth wisdom in the blackness of night.

Starwoman:
Then let's start at the beginning, as all stories must start.  
First there was Dharaad and there were none before her.
Second there was Geon, born of soil, and Dharaad used the stars to guide him to her.
Third came Tsoeh, child of Dharaad and Geon.

The first face of Tsoeh created the Soa race with the paint of hope and promise upon the walls of the Soasor Rhux.  
The second face of the Tsoeh made them made them beloved among all of nature.  
The third face, we do not speak of kindly.

Response:
May the Tsoeh's third face never appear.

Starwoman:
This lesson takes place in the second age, when the Rhux were still young, but happily living under the sky canvas.  In those days, the Soa did not yet know of death, they did not yet have despair, but lived to divine stars and pass on tales of skill and bravery.  Yet as Dharaad could not call the old and wounded to the stars, nor could Geon guide more Soa into being.  Children were woefully rare.  And two are lonely, but three fulfills the soul.

Response:
Two are are lonely, but three fulfills the soul.

Starwoman:
One day a couple found themselves joyously fortunate, as Geon had given them a single child.  The girl was kind and graceful, smart and beautiful, and so they named her Keiya, since she was like the music of the wind against the cliffs and caves of the Rhux.  

She grew up quickly though, as all children do, and before her parents eyes she became a young maid, in need of love.  And as her parents loved her dearly, they invited her to begin stitching her wedding dress and go to the village, where perhaps there might be some young man there to see her in it.

But Keiya was also inquisitive, and she did not go directly to town.  Like her namesake, she spent the day exploring the caves of the buttes where few dared travel.

Unknown to the villagers, there was indeed a youth that might attract the eye of a wandering girl within those caves.  When she first saw him, she did not know what to make of the man.  He was a man in face, that was clear, but his skin's hue was made of early twilight and his hair, worn long and without adornment, was metallic and silver.  

'We have met before, in the world of dreams,' said he.  'I have come to tell you that I love you and wish nothing more than to grant your every desire.'

Response:
coo coo coo

Starwoman: Keiya fell instantly in love.  Somehow, he had combined beauty and strength into one being and while she had never seen anything like him, she never felt more familiar with another.  She knew he must be hers.

'Tell me that you will make me yours and I will keep you forever.' he beckoned.  

Keiya returned to her parents telling her fortune and beg permission to wed the handsome stranger but they would not give it.  

Response:
ghek, ghek, ghek

'What of the herder's son?' Keiya's mother pleaded.

'I've heard it told that the mason's boy is kind as well as strong.' her father advised her.

But the heart of a young woman in love is more immovable than the Khayaha mountains.

Response:
A girl's desires wholly fulfilled
Must always lead to weeping.

Starwoman: Keiya returned to the caves the next day, fleeing from her parents and taking the betrothal dress she made.  She did not return that night, nor the next.  Longing to see their daughter's face once more, the man and woman sought out the caves Keiya had talked about.  Perhaps her new husband might at least give them a glimpse of their loved one's face.

They found only this: beads scattered, and the blood-soaked leather fabric of the dress in tatters at the entrance of one of the caves.

The father looked skyward and cried, 'Dharaad, let not your call send our daughter to the stars so soon!'

The mother looked at the ground and sobbed 'Geon, for what reason did you craft our child if you planned a violent fate?'

But the Daughter of Stars and the Son of Soil could do nothing to aid the bereaved parents, for Keiya was already lost to them.

In the bowels of the cave, the creature ate for the first time.  He, forever being incomplete of the triune, could not help but consume in his jealousy and hatred of the Soa.  He feasted on the heart of a woman because he could not have Dharaad.  He gorged on the womb, the nest of children because Tseoh would never be born to him.  His hatred consumed him, and slowly he grew termite legs, horns, and ant-like claws instead of hands.

But his face, he kept, for his hunger was not satiated.  Indeed, it was merely whetted.

Now, we call them geokeh, for they are part man, part insect, and they prey on the hearts of young girls still.  When they can find a child out at night and alone from her parents, they will strike, and they will never be heard from again.

Response:
Children, mind your parents.
Parents, mind your children.

Starwoman: For the geokeh stalk the caves and dark places where the stars do not shine.

Chapter 11 - Part IX

Choosing their paths with the greatest carefulness, the two made their way to the edge of a clearing where they found her, propped up against a yellowing maple tree, emaciated and filthy.  Reiba, former lady of House Archne, had swapped padded corsets and silky locks of reddish mahogany for faded leather and a head full of knots and grease.  And though she tried to hide it with a wide-brimmed hat woven of flax and linen, two bees, one on each ear, stood out as if in attack formation in dark permanent blue.  The coughing had ceased, though her breathing was still hoarse and uneasy.

She dozed lightly, in a most ungraceful manner, her mouth agape and chin down.  Keubroc caught the eye of of Lord Vaughn who trailed behind him slightly, giving him a nod to alert him to her presence, then cocked his head slightly as if to ask for instructions at this point.

Lord Vaughn nodded back at him, indicating to Keubroc that the time was now.  Subdue, apprehend, and interrogate.  Take extreme caution to not kill - she will be useful alive he had said - but do not let her get away, even if that means her death.  If she survived, she might face the judgement of her peers while demonstrating the effectiveness of Imperial protection and justice.

Vaughn could not help but feel an overwhelming sense of closure.  This venture had been tiresome and he had disparaged his own oversight that let the former Lady Zaexyl slip away in the first place.  It was a failure, plain and simple, and the Silent Scholar would not look kindly on his error. Yet resolving the matter cleanly might still reward him with redemption.

Keubroc entered the clearing silently, with Vaughn at his back, crouched behind a thick oak.  Soft socks of leather had replaced his hard boots from the previous days, slowing his progression, but reducing the noise he made.  He did not expect to reach her before she woke, but he'd be as close as possible to subdue the woman.

Yet as he crept within a wagon-span of her resting place, her eyes flared open.  Reiba did not take half a second to rouse her emaciated self and jump up from her spot.  She tumbled to her left, fleeing into a thick grove of dense understory brambles.  Keubroc had no trouble following the cracks and whips of a woman crashing through brush without regard for her own skin and he followed in hot pursuit.

She did not run for long but by the time he had caught up to her, she was under the boughs of a dancing oak.  (put into notes for another descriptive opportunity: a tree known for its multiple stems leaning over the ground in an array of creative strands.)  There knelt Reiba in her sleeveless vest, a linen over jacket at her waist, and a jeweled dagger clutched tightly in her left fist pointing straight down to the leaf cluttered ground.  He put his hand to his sword.

"Do not move a single muscle more, soldier, or it will die."

"What are you talking about woman?" he asked not a half second before he noticed that the leaves and dirt rose and fell slightly, and that flesh of purplish blue could be seen in some parts. Something, or someone, was under the earth, but as to who, or why, the Second Sword was at a loss.

"What is that?"he said, not fully concealing his surprise.

"Are you an Empire man or not?" she replied, and though her words were feverish, her resolve remained strong; her eyes darting about as she mentally recorded every detail of the man who pursued her.

"So you may say."

"Then no doubt the great wisdom of the University on High can shed some light on this mystery," she spat, still not letting her eyes leave his.  With her free hand, she cleared away the dirt and debris from the face of the creature.  It appeared to be in repose and the commotion had not roused it.  It's eyes, quite human in appearance, were closed, but two great horns that originated at its temples made it clear that it was anything but human.  "you are so knowledgeable about every aspect of this world surely a this creature is at least known to you, if not owned by you.  What was it doing in our province?  What hideous new allies has your Empress wooed to her side?"

"I've never seen a creature such as this." Keubroc answered as calmly as possible.  "It means nothing to me."

"Feh!" she scrunched her face in frustration, "Yet you haven't moved.  If it isn't yours, then why concern yourself with its death at my hand?"

"I'd like to end this peacefully.  Will you return with me?"

"Rel's host take you and your tyrant Queen!" she screamed as she plunged the dagger into the chest of the creature.

At least, that was her intent.  She didn't make it very far before Vaughn, sneaking behind her, delivered a swift elbow to her back and she dropped the dagger and crumpled to the ground.  Vaughn circled her prone body and her eyes widened at the sight of his massive form.  He kicked the dagger well out of her reach before grabbing her vest at the sternum and pulling her up to meet his face.

"This world means nothing to you anymore.  Your life is over.  Whatever your plots, you will reveal them and you will die." and he threw her again to the ground.  "The method in which these things occur is entirely up to you." he later added.  He motioned over Keubroc and without missing a beat, the Second Sword was soon at his side, thrusting the woman's wrists and ankles in brass cuffs.

Blood coursing though the veins of his neck and hands, he felt alive with adrenaline.  More than one loose end would be tied this night.  Wide hands set to work removing the debris from the creature. The sun had long since left the sky, but its hue still made a stunning appearance of orange pink and red streaks in the sky.  It should be safe for it to wake.

"Tttch-chkitkit." he intoned, raising the interest of Keubroc instantly.  "Wake up. Tttch-chkitkit"

In moments the creature opened its eyes, and though it got up, it crouched down in front of the two men in submission.  It was still quite dirty, but made no indication that it was concerned with its appearance.  That is, until it caught glance of the now bound Reiba.

Vaughn quickly caught this and smirked in devious thoughts of what could be, but he put it aside.  "Keubroc."

"Yes sir." the man turned his attention to the bei'thal.

"This is a gegleth.  Are you familiar with the term?"

"No sir."

"Good.  That means we are doing our job.  This is a species we discovered a couple of generations ago.  About the tail end of the Lor Phe period - so perhaps 100 tides ago or so.  They've lived symbiotically with the Soa for longer than the Keeper's existence, should the myths be true.  Hence their name.  It's a Yibouhese bastardization of the Soan word 'geokeh'. (linguistic note, Yibouhese has no other sound following the "eh" vowel than "th" so much like how a spanish person will add an "eh" sound to an s-word in English, the Yibouhese add it in front of a "th") Tell me, what do you know of the Soan language?"

"Nothing, I am afraid." the younger man admitted.

"Then that makes two of us," Vaughn chuckled, "But so my teachers have taught me, I can pass on this tidbit to you.  A 'geokeh' is a mythical ghost that steals children from their beds at night when they are naughty."

Keubroc laughed nervously, "Is that what these creatures do then?  Kidnap misbehaving children?"

"The truth is these creatures are terribly good at getting things done without being seen.  They are expert diggers, strong, dependable and they eat little more than dirt, like a worm.  If you can pay their price, they are fiercely loyal, and ask no questions about their job.  Their only flaw is that they are a subterranean species and easily dehydrate and die in the sun.  They must dig themselves a bed to sleep in by day if they are caught outdoors." Vaughn looked over to the still crouched figure.  "Tttch-chkitkit, eat and be off.  Keubroc will follow you shortly."

The figure got up and began dusting himself off, helping himself to the clumps of dirt that fell from his segmented arms.  "What is their price?"

"Nothing less than the continuation of their species." Vaughn chuckled. "Soon enough, you'll learn more about them as you study to become bei'thal.  Civilians never see them, but for a bei'thal, the gegleth are ubiquitous.  Find your things and get that armor back on.  You'll have to do without sleep tonight.  The gegleth can only travel at night so you will have to sleep in the day with him."

"Him?"

"Yes, all gegleth are male."

"Every single one of them?  How is that possible?"

"Yes.  You will find out soon enough.  No more questions now.  I need to get him to the University on High before Coldtide celebrations.  We may be able to figure out how to make this all work afterall."

Keubroc look about him and picked up the jeweled dagger that Reiba had dropped and glanced to the east where somewhere his pack and breastplate waited to be found.  Vaughn had already turned back to his prey as he examined her bound body for anything of interest; weapons, communiques, artifacts.

Keubroc approached the man as he physically invaded Reiba's privacy, and was rewarded with facial reactions of fear and disgust.  "I still had more questions for you." he said as his plunged the jeweled dagger between the collarbone of the shirtless man.  Vaughn slumped to the ground and blood escaped his coronary artery and spurted through the wound.  His last seconds of life afforded him only the deepest look of hatred and malice to his murderer.

"It will be a lot harder to learn now." Keubroc added mournfully.

Chapter 11 - Part VIII

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"When will you understand that you cannot outrun me?" she muttered to herself, as branches and leaves whipped at her face in her haste.

No further than 30 feet away she would see the flashes of blue and purple weave in and out of clumps of dulling greens.  Every day her necklace pulsed more strongly, more rapidly, but she didn't need it now.  The sun was just beginning to peek out of the horizon.  Rest was near.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Tell me, how did a man of Sandor become a man of the Empire?" Vaughn queried his younger traveling companion.

"Isn't that one in the same?" Keubroc half-smiled.  "Is not loyalty to Sandor not dissimilar to loyalty to one's own arm, and by that same token, loyalty to Yibouh to loyalty to one's own body.  We may not choose the time and place of our birth, but we can recognize who, or what made them possible."

Vaughn peered at the City Enforcer as he stuffed his bedroll into his linen rucksack. It was the most he had heard the man speak of himself.  And while discretion was a desirable trait for a bei'thal, Vaughn wanted to know everything of a man who might become his next apprentice.  "Ah," he smiled, "So you are a second son then?"

"Yes," Keubroc chuckled in reply, "Or rather, a fourth son.  It is not a much better prospect for nobility.  Before I renounced my ties to join the City Enforcers I was of House Mecmae."

(NOTE:  I wrote this as part of Keubroc's conversation with Vaughn but the fact is he'd probably not go into this much detail without being very prodded.  Will save this as character background for future interactions - add this to comments section: My eldest brother gave his dutiful 16 tides before he returned to be groomed for lordship, same for the my second brother when he was killed in a hunting accident.  My sister stuck around for an extra four tides to hone her skills in mechanics and design before returning to Veradern to marry into House Kep'hla.)

"Paper manufacturing?"

"You understand a little Sandoran?"

"It sounds similar to the Eirdren word 'meihmai'.  It was a guess." Vaughn admitted casually.

"Then stick to your instincts, for that is precisely the trade that brought nobility and wealth to my family over the years.  Like the rest of my siblings, I was sent to the City of the Crags not long after I learned how to run.

"My siblings all eventually returned home, one way or another, but Pho-Boteth is a difficult place to draw oneself away from."

"Indeed it is." Vaughn nodded in agreement.

"It seemed a natural fit.  I've also got few skills beyond that of a sword." He added with a self-depreciating smile,  "I never did finish my 16th tide of study as I rushed off to join just after Cold-Tide celebrations naming me 25."

"Just a boy in the world." Vaughn bei'thal noted.  "To be 25 tides again and see the world in front of you as one huge adventure."

Keubroc laughed defensively, "No, not me my lord.  Young though I was, I took my duties seriously.  Too seriously for some I suspect."  All packed up, Vaughn pointed the way which the purple trail had manifested itself the previous night and the two began their trek anew.

"I have been told you are a stern man, but I'm glad to see you at least know how to laugh.  You and I, each in our different positions, don't just defend the bodies and property of the Empire.  We defend her smiles and her art.  Empire is more than just tracts of land.  It is culture and shared history.  We are guardians of that.

"I think you can do more with us, the bei'thal, than under the Wuob at the Augur." Vaughn coughed, a slight chill finally passing as the exertion of the hike began to warm him up.  "To be honest, your talents may be wasted under such a man."

"I have thought in great detail of your offer.  Indeed I've thought of little else." Keubroc replied dutifully.  "It is quite intriguing, and I am inclined to accept."

Vaughn looked back at the stout Sandoran man.  "You have reservations?"

"None my lord."

"Then when we are finished here, you will report to the University on High.  Take a few days there first to relax and enjoy all that made you love Pho-Boteth the first time.  After that, seek out Roh'ath rduap.  I will return to Eirdred with news of your transfer.  Welcome to the world of the bei'thal.  I look forward to your progress."

"Thank you."

The two continued until the sun had climbed high enough to overtake the sad pale face of the daytime Major Moon, though they did so in silence.  Though they had started out with Vaughn pointing the way, whatever magic the art of the bei had helped him accomplish had faded before their breakfasts had been fully digested and Keubroc had to be relied upon for his more traditional tracing methods.

Although Vaughn bei'thal did not miss a step and followed the younger man easily, Keubroc could sense a weariness from him that he had not had in the days prior.  His breathing was just slightly more labored.  His stride just slightly more rigid.  Keubroc did not know when the bei'thal would be back up to normal, but he was beginning to understand why the ritual he had performed could not have been performed every night.

So tired was the bei'thal that when Keubroc stopped in his tracks suddenly, he nearly crashed into the man.

Keubroc turned to Vaughn and covered his lips with his fingers, indicating a need for silence.  With the melody of woodswalking footsteps removed from their ears, suddenly the two could hear a diverse harmony of woodpecker chirps, goshawk caws and the scurries of ground dwelling rodents.  They also heard for the first time the slight hacks and coughs of an unknown in the distance.

Vaughn pointed to the nüdwuob's armor and motioned his thumb away and Keubroc easily understood the gesture.  Carefully, they both removed their plates of armor and lowered their rucksacks to the ground.  Padded leather and a solitary blade make for less noise than steel and straps.

Chapter 11 - Part VII

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was near twilight when Vaughn first heard the snaps and creaks of delicate twigs lying on the forest floor, but he was far too gone in a trance to offer the noise any attention.  Keubroc, when he reached the clearing Lord Vaughn had set up for their camp, said not a word as mild breezes made their way through the openings and joints of his light armor.  The subtle chill of late warm tide was just barely eking its way through the woods in the darkness.

Vaughn hummed quietly.  He had since removed his plate armor and underlying tunic leaving his hairy chest bare while he sat on his knees in a near trance.  Before him lay two twigs and some earth collected in a pile.  Focused in on these objects, he then removed a vial of a silvery purple, noxious liquid which he poured over the dirt.  With his bare finders, he kneaded the liquid into the dirt, forming a pasty dough of mud.  Only the slightest twitches from his furrowed brows indicated to Keubroc that the man was starting to feel uncomfortable.  Sweat began to bead at his bare forehead and his breathing became labored and heavy.

Vaughn's substantial hands then took a clump of the mud and pressed it into his sternum.  Keubroc looked in closely as he smeared it up to his collarbone, then his neck underneath his grizzled beard.  By now, his hum had turned into a desperate sounding groan and Keubroc took a subconscious step back when the man crumpled to the ground.

"My lord!" he cautiously made his way over the stones and moss to the prone man but when he saw his naked chest rising and falling he relaxed in urgency.  He fell to his knees and tried to rouse the Yibouhese lord, shaking the man's shoulders.  In a few moments, Vaughn's eye's flew open.

Coughing loudly, he muttered, "This is work better suited to a bei.  Damn them for not giving me another one."

"Lord Vaughn?" Keubroc asked.

Vaughn grunted in approval.  The City Enforcer was curious, but never lost his spirit as a soldier as to question him outright.

"Help me up." and Keubroc complied, pulling the now sweaty middle aged man to his feet.  The bei'thal blinked once and Keubroc was certain that he saw a glint of purple flash through the man's eyes.  "The tracks are hers, of that we can be sure."

"My lord?"

"You cannot see it, but I have augmented the soil to reveal who has touched it, and if that person is our prey.  I have done this by weakening the properties of the soil, forging it against the fire of my will, to melt it and shape it to my desires.  And through this, it tells me that it it was her body that passed through the woods.  There is no other sending us to alternate ends while she makes her escape.

"This is the art of the bei."

"The compromised?"

"Exactly.  Because no change anyone can impact comes without a cost.  For every action, for every product, the raw material that goes into it must be forever altered.

"Consider the iron ore that once was used to forge your sword.  It served a purpose at one point.  Perhaps not purposes of our design, but it was perfect for holding up a mountain, or marking a trail.  And though now you have gotten a new use for this iron ore, it isn't suitable for its previous tasks.  Can you slice a man with a lump of rock?  Can a sword make up the foundations of a building."

"No sir." Keubroc admitted.

"And so we lose something when we enact the compromise.  This soil will never again host tree or brush in our lifetimes.  It may even poison a field.

"Draining too, this is." he sighed in exhaustion,  "I do not think I can repeat it again for days.  A measure of purple oshieph was my stove; without it my will would do little more than warm the air around me.  But the fires of the bei'thal are never meant to burn too hotly.  We exist to reign in these raw powers.  Now, a bei would have an easier time of it, as they have already been forged to hone their focus.  The bei'thal direct them how to use it."

"A keeper of the compromised, and the compromised.  Then there are those who have been reforged, changed from one thing to another?"

"Yes.  People are the iron ore that make up the bei.  They become bei.  And for their sacrifice, they learn how to shape other people and objects to meet the needs of the Empire."

Keubroc stood impassively with this new information, questions being satisfied yet not completely.  If a person is forged into bei, do they still remain a person?  But this was not the time to ask.  "Then I suppose there is a reason why I am learning all of this?"

"Indeed Nüdwuob Keubroc.  We have been watching your progress at the Augur over the past few minor moons.  Your skills in battle and in tracking.  The way you handled the interviews with the nobles after the explosion at the Archne Estate.  You've clearly outshined even your superiors, particularly Wuob Corheab.  His incompetence likely tipped off the former Lady Archne, giving her some sense that the Augur, and maybe even the Empire was casting new scrutiny to their actions.  We might have avoided this whole mess if that man hadn't the brains of a frightened rein."

Keubroc nodded silently, his face cast in stone.

"But you can do something Keubroc.  You have the skills we need to keep peace in the land while advancing ourselves as a civilization.  We would like to train you in the art of the bei, help you learn how to manipulate and control the power that the hordes of the Keepers leak into our world."

"To leave the Augur then?" answered Keubroc curtly, as was his fashion.

"For the time being.  For training.  To have a permanent bei'thal stationed at the Augur would be immeasurably useful.  A permanent bei too; we get in trouble when we cart bei around the world.  And I think I have in my mind the perfect candidate for you.  Hopefully she is being trained as a bei even as we speak." Vaughn mused, half to the nüdwuob, half to himself.  "If you love your country, if you honor your Empress, if you want to see peace throughout the land, you will consider this offer strongly.  As I have said, the bei'thal can accomplish what swords and shields often cannot."

"You offer me much. Yet I would not be doing proper respect to the position if I did not consider my options carefully before making an answer." replied Keubroc, rubbing the black stubble of his face while trying to stifle a yawn.  The stars had already made their appearance a few hours prior.

"It is careful planning and mature forethought that we treasure among the bei'thal.  Please, sleep on it.  We can discuss this more tomorrow night.  I will need and answer before our mission is through of course, but please use me as a resource to help you make your decision.

"I will see you in the morning," Vaughn pulled aside the top layer of his bedroll, "I suspect we are near our quarry."

"Thank you Lord Vaughn," Keubroc caught himself, "Vaughn bei'thal.  You have given me much to think on."