Cards Reshuffled

Birdsong can be quite beautiful to listen to. Of course, it can also be annoying, at the wrong time. And another interesting thing about birdsong is that what the birds really sing generally are along the lines of ‘Everybody keep out!’, ‘Any closer and I’ll kill you’, ‘Come here baby, I’m a hunk’ or ‘I’ve mated! I’m the King of the World!’. All in all it’s probably better not to listen too closely to the lyrics.

Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’

Aerie was alone in her bedroom, and she was singing. The afternoon sun was streaming in through the open window, making her blonde locks glow like a river of gold, and her blue eyes were wide with delight as she watched the tiny blue bird that had hopped onto the windowsill. It was a small bird, small enough that it could easily fit even within her tiny palm, the clear blue of a summer sky, and it was trilling excitedly. The little black eyes radiated love as they watched the singing Avariel, whose pure and pristine white dress made her appear the very picture of innocence. Eventually it couldn’t resist any longer, but carefully hopped onto the pink little finger extended towards it.

Aerie raised her hand towards herself, cooing delightedly at the little blue bird, and then she resumed her song, with the bird trilling in accompaniment now and then. Her song sounded incredibly sweet, and charmingly innocent and cheerful. It was lucky, she decided, that she had placed a sound charm on her chambers, so that nobody except for her could hear the actual lyrics, even if they happened to speak elven.

Your skin so white, so soft and pure
I’ll peel it slowly, you’ll endure
For death is fast, but pain is slow,
And fa-la-la-ley, pain comes your way,
Hey nonny nonny, watch me go
And fa-la-la-ley, pain comes your way,
Hey nonny nonny, watch me go

Your eyes so blue, they suit you too,
I’ll pluck them out and sip the goo,
For death is fast, but pain is slow,
And fa-la-la-la-ley, meet pain this day,
Hey nonny nonny, watch me go
And fa-la-la-ley, pain comes your way,
Hey nonny nonny, watch me go

Aerie giggled to herself, gently stroking the soft feathers of the little bird, and then went on.

Your tongue so red, to rest is laid,
With pincers ripped out of your head,
For death is fast, but pain is slow,
And fa-la-la-la-ley, greet pain, I say,
Hey nonny nonny, watch me go
And fa-la-la-ley, pain comes your way,
Hey nonny nonny, watch me go

The bird trilled curiously at Aerie. She smiled, tickling it on the chest, and it delightedly pressed itself against her finger.

Your heart so kind, I’ll leave behind,
Within a silver bowl to grind,
For death is fast, but pain is slow,
And fa-la-la-la-ley, pain gets its way,
Hey nonny nonny, watch me go
And fa-la-la-ley, pain comes your way,
Hey nonny nonny, watch me go

The bird was sitting on Aerie’s palm now, close enough to her face that she could almost kiss it, singing until it seemed its little heart was about to burst. Aerie’s smile widened a little as she launched into the final verse.

Your soul I’ll keep, and hear it weep,
And never will I let it sleep,
For death is fast, but pain is slow,
And fa-la-la-la-ley, this is pain’s day
Hey nonny nonny, watch me go
And fa-la-la-ley, pain comes your way,
Hey nonny nonny, watch me go

The bird’s happy soprano song was brutally cut off with a surprised squeak as the Avariel rapidly clenched her fist shut. The smile never left her face as the little bones cracked and crunched, or as the blood spurted out over her hand. She was careful not to let it get on her dress though; bloodstains were a nightmare to get out. Good, Aerie thought as she deposited the tiny corpse in the small and bubbling cauldron that was standing on the hearth. Bluebird bones are perfect for the nail strengthening potion…and I do want to look my best once the time for the masquerade comes. Not to mention that I can’t stand their annoying noises.

Things were certainly looking up, she decided. Lord Logum and his friends were eating out of her hands, and Lady Jysstev would trust her with her life. The noblewoman had apparently contacted ‘The Hidden’ and a meeting would take place at a grand masquerade ball that the Jysstevs would arrange. How very suitable, given my own fondness for the theatre, and the illusionary skills of the one I am to meet. And then, once contact had been established and a working partnership had been ensured, her power would be increased tenfold and she would practically have an army of thralls obeying her every whim. Soon…yes, soon I will be ready. Very soon.

As Aerie gently stirred her cauldron she smiled to herself, and soon she started singing again. As before the sound was very lovely – as long as you couldn’t hear the actual words.

Elsewhere, somebody else was also listening to birdsong, very much against his will. Normally, Valygar Corthala quite liked birds. It was sort of part of being a ranger – you liked trees, flowers, animals, birds, even insects. Well, perhaps not mosquitoes. It was hard to imagine a ranger who had a mosquito as his or her faithful companion animal. Possibly as his sworn enemy, Valygar mused and scratched a particularly nasty bite on his ankle. They always seemed to bite where it would itch the most. It wouldn’t surprise him if they did it on purpose. As for the birds, though he normally liked them, he wished they could be kind enough to keep the noise level down on a day such as this one, which was basically the day after a night like that one.

The ranger groaned quietly as a particularly loud bird did its best to drill its way through his brain using sound alone. He normally didn’t drink much at all. However, yesterday had been that day. The anniversary. And not just any anniversary either. After all, how many people get to celebrate the day they murdered both their parents? Well, perhaps ‘celebrate’ wasn’t entirely the right word, unless you took it to mean ‘getting drunk enough to practically be unconscious, crying yourself to sleep in a puddle of beer, and then waking up in another, far more stinky puddle’. Good thing there was a fresh spring close by the cabin…but he was still pretty smelly. Not that anybody but himself was likely to notice of course. This was after all a lone cabin deep within the Umar Hills forest, it wasn’t the sort of place people just stumbled upon, which was exactly how Valygar preferred it.

Once again, Valygar groaned, his strong dark fingers gently massaging his temples. Those birds were really tiresome. He’d come out to sit on the porch of the cabin for a while, feeling the need for fresh air, but now he was beginning to wonder if perhaps he’d made a mistake. On the other hand, his legs felt a bit too wobbly for walking at the moment. Of course, if my mother were still alive, she’d probably just blast the entire tree to pieces…with every single bird. Mages. Rotten, the lot of them. Rotten to the core. Well, when she was done with him, father was rotten on the outside too…

How had it come to this, Valygar wondered. The once so proud Corthala line, now reduced to a hung over loner hiding in a cabin, not to mention smelling of old puke? At least that means the curse will die with me. Even if it wasn’t for my vow of celibacy, I doubt any woman would want to come close to me at the moment. He grunted as a particularly inconsiderate sunbeam stung his eyes. Well, he might not look like much, but he was alive at least, not a mean feat when the Cowled Wizards were after you. He knew that he was very lucky they hadn’t found him yet, considering how anxious they were to get their hands on him…or rather, on part of him.

If I worshipped any god whatsoever, then I would probably be praying right now. Not that they’d do anything about it, the useless bastards. It’s not as if they did anything for mother, when she was falling deeper and deeper into insanity, the magic taking her over. It’s not as if they did anything for father, when he wasted away and died, and when she brought him back in her madness, a shuffling ghoul. It’s not as if they did anything for the child that was there, watching it all, helpless to do anything. Helpless, until the day came when I was strong enough to free them both of the madness, to slay them both, even as I wept. No, I will not start flattering any gods now, not at my age. I will live or die on my own, without their interference. That I swear. And I will never touch magic, that it may not corrupt me. I will never father a child, that the curse of the Corthalas does not spread. And above all, I will kill Lavok the Necromancer, for bringing this doom upon his family, the doom of magic and madness.

Repeating his vow, as he did every night and morning, made Valygar feel a little better, and the glazed look in his bloodshot brown eyes was replaced with their usual stoicism. I will continue to exist, for a while longer. Until Lavok the Necromancer is mine. I will sheathe my sword deep within his foul body, and vengeance for my family will be mine.

Wearily he remembered how his recent troubles had begun, only a few weeks ago. He had known, the moment that the Planar Sphere appeared in the slums of Athkatla, looking like an enormous steel marble that had somehow managed to wedge itself inside and through several buildings. He had known in an instant, for something about the Sphere called out to him, through the blood he shared with his distant ancestor, Lavok. The Sphere sang in his dreams, disturbing his rest, it pulled at him as a magnet pulls at iron shavings. He would find himself walking down a street, and then suddenly turning into another, completely involuntarily, a street that would take him to the Sphere. He would suddenly break off in the middle of an action, only to find his head slowly turning in a particular direction, the direction of the Sphere. One morning, he had been sitting down to breakfast, and suddenly he had blinked, realizing that half an hour had passed and that he had sculpted a Sphere out of his breakfast porridge. Poor Hervor…no doubt his faithful manservant thought that Lord Corthala had finally gone insane, just as all his forefathers before him. More than once Valygar had thought the same.

Then, of course, rumor had reached him, and he had heard about the Sphere’s arrival, and had known what was going on. His first impulse had been to storm the place, demanding entrance, and then tearing his ancestor’s black heart from his body, assuming he still had a heart. But he had soon thought better of it. He must kill Lavok, yes, and break the curse. But he couldn’t afford to rush, he couldn’t afford to fail. There would be no Corthala after him to take up his sword, and that meant he had to do things right.

And so he had begun to prepare, to gather what funds he had to get proper equipment, to search for companions willing to aid him in his task. Unfortunately, he had not got very far before they had come for him. The Cowled Wizards. Valygar spat at the ground at the mere thought of the gray-clad mages. They had wished for him to grant them entrance to the sphere. Apparently they had already learnt that they couldn’t get in on their own, that only Corthala blood was allowed to open the door, and now they had sought him out, to be used as their key.

He had refused. There had never been any question about it. Powerful the Cowled Wizards might be, yes, but that only made them all the greater foes. They were mages, with all that that meant. Dangerous. Untrustworthy. Greedy. Hungry for the power of the Sphere. He had told them that he would die rather than open the Sphere for them, and they had laughed and told him that that was always an option. They only needed his flesh and blood after all…they didn’t need him to be alive.

So he had fought, and he had been swift enough that he managed to take them by surprise, killing both of the pair who had come for him. Then he had fled, knowing that the Cowled Wizards would soon come after him. If not for revenge, then to take him for their own, to use his body as a means of entrance to power. This cabin was far out in the woods that he should be reasonably safe though. Hopefully. And he didn’t have big demands on comfort, the plain cabin suited him very well. And it was certainly nice to be in close contact with nature, having lived in the city for some time now. Yes. Very, very nice. Except for the mosquitoes of course.

A happy, multi-throated trill made Valygar wince as he experienced the sensation of red-hot needles being jammed into his eyes. All right. Except for the mosquitoes and the birds. Briefly, oh so very briefly, he regretted not having chosen any patron god for himself. A spell of silence…how I wish I could cast a spell of silence… Then he gulped, catching himself, and hastily shook his head to drive the thought away, ignoring the pain. No. No magic. Absolutely no magic, ever. Ever. Not even for this. Groaning, he wondered how it was that everybody he ever met, be it man or beast, seemed so determined to be noisy and tiresome. Silence. I just want some silence. Is that really so much to ask for? Some silence and peace. And then he sighed, looking down at the dirt between his feet, and at the shape that his bare feet had formed there, in the loose soil. A rough, but still recognizable Sphere.