Dare Beyond the Last Lantern

[Vyn]

Somewhere, the Road no longer wishes to be a road.
That is where I'm sent.
To light the path before it forks.​

On the road. Tired but willing. The Council wanted it done and so it would be. The thought of refusal, however possible, never dawned on her. Her mount mimicked her broken spirit, both slumping into the dirt road. Her neck crooked with sleep deprivation, and his step unsteady in the ovegrowth.

It had been a good three hills since she'd last seen the light of the Wagons. She remembered the knot in her stomach catching when she was asked to go alone. Not because she needed more people. Vyn was never alone after all. The suspense came in the form of the request. Normally a much more experienced Pathlight would be sent so suddenly and in the middle of the night. Her chest swelled with pride. In a way this was the highest honor she'd ever earned. It felt monumental.

Far enough from civilization nature became a canvas. A blank one. Hills disguised rivers and pitfalls, the only true distinctions were up and down, ahead and behind. Up served as a poor substitute for sunlight, sprinkling bits of illumination. Cheap and held back. Down only thought of treachery. A root sticking out. A fidgety clump of dirt. One step all it took to bring down a rider. To extinguish a light. So she rode until behind her became nothing. Rode until what she knew of the path ahead was equal. This is where her task began.

She was yet to light her lantern, a sad patched up thing, its glass blackened by repeated use.

This is when she sensed it.

Someone...something was coming.

 

[Makaela Sylbella]

"It is good to have an end to journey toward, but it is the journey that matters in the end."
- Ursula K. Le Guin​

One weary foot dragged before another, every muscle consumed with a deep-rooted ache that felt like fire. Sweat beaded on her brow, her lungs afire, each breath feeling like it might be her last. Still, one foot in front of the other.

Shouldn't have let my guard down, damn man shot my horse. A good horse it had been too. A fine steed, stolen from the stables from the last man she'd allowed to entertain her affections. Another role she had been beyond suited to play. Whispered words against silken sheets, the man's body moving against her own. The framing of her lush lips in a mock orgasm, eye going wide as the man collapsed against her.

Her mind was mocking her. Playing clips of her past before her on repeat. Perhaps she should take a moment to rest? Allow her body to be consumed by the tug of gravity and collapse against the soft dirt. A nap would be wonderful, she mused. Shaking her long golden curls, coated in a light layer of road dust. A haze on the horizon, an outline wavering in and out of focus. Concentrate, she growled. Focus. Ignore the pain. A hand pressed firmly against her side, applying wavering pressure to the ache from the stab. Rotten bastard, nicked me with an arrow. Gotta keep going. Keep my feet moving.

One step.

Then two.

Three.

The figure seemed to loom closer, a phantasm grown real. The hazy outline had the shape of a demon with curving horns nestled among dark hair. The lower half appeared equine, no wait, a snort, an exhale, two sets of lungs. A rider and a mount. Perhaps here, perhaps now I can rest. Ground came rushing up fast, her vision fading as her golden eye rolled up into her head and she fainted.

 

[Vyn]

While she did not have the night vision of some of her beast siblings, she could still make out the figure. She would see how it ended up before she could see any of the details. The stranger seemed to lose footing. Lose consciousness. The ground was quick to grab and hold in place. The thud of it sounded like it hurt. She would struggle with herself, not fully stopping her mount. Dismounting in motion instead. The first ankle to land was not thankful.

„No soul is worth the Road.“ She muttered for her own sake. Still, she could not just leave someone here. There would have to be compromise. While the rule that guided her was unbreakable, everything bent. That river next to Gordar's Rest had taught her that. She remembered seeing it two dozen times and every time it was flowing a slightly different way. Some visits it wasn't there at all. Maybe the river really could pack up and leave...

It was easy to see where the stranger was leaking. She pulled her bag open and found a piece of cloth and named it Rotfright silently. Yellow and frayed, the kind of thing you saved for others. She was not gentle or careful. She knew she was blessed with clean water, so she washed the wound, packed it with the cloth she knew to be clean and tore the woman's own sleeve to make sure it was all tied in place. If she left the woman, the woman would die. Likely a horrible death. If she stopped too long to play caretaker, the Wagons would be blind. There really was only one solution.

She went back to the horse. Unsheathed a knife.

„I can't carry you.“

And she cut.

Her own forearm.

„But I know who can.“

It came easy. The Shroud thin tonight.

The world bleached. First at the corners of her vision, then completely, suddenly. She didn't have to see to know. She could no longer feel the breeze at her back. She didn't have to voice her offering. Two arms embraced her from behind. Limbs too long to be proper. One was almost fully human, color reaching as far as the elbow. As it held her, the presence was almost mothering. Soothing. It first took the pain. Then the blood. The wound wasn't exactly closed but it had stopped spilling.

She didn't need to speak to command. After so many years, it was understood. She mounted back up.

It took the wounded one gently. She only now realized the woman was missing an eye. She got a better look. Satisfied there was no blood smeared in that area, she let it go. An old wound most likely.

„Fell like stew?“ It asked in the nasal voice of the boy who had cooked it earlier that day.

„Too proud to walk. Flat now. Road bites flat.“ Was that scolding she heard?

Vyn didn't need to answer, but she did nod. The creature made sense in its own way.

„Heavy with things packed not. Regret or bone. You carry bone. Less heavy.“ The voice switched between questioning and answering.

It cracked the knuckles on its humanlike hand. Strange. They didn't normally do that.

„You name me.“ It asked or told. Voice eerily close to Vyn's own.

The head spun the wrong way, a full circle before it was on Vyn. She thought she could hear a break as it did, but if the creature suffered from a broken neck, it didn't show.

„Mine was Grey-Between. I wore it for days. Gone now. Names do that. When you wear them wrong“ the more it talked, the closer it mimicked her tone.

Vyn had never given that name to the Pale. Which could only mean one thing.

She didn't express the fear. It was understood anyway.

„Say it. I wear it. Try it on.“

„I like your feet. They point forward.“ Voice that of the stew boy again.

„Name is glue.“ The Pale pleaded. „Still too fog. Say me solid.“

„Your name is Right hand that's left.“ And with that it finally quieted.

Name accepted, it turned to Vyn, cheeks pulling into a smile.

There was no mouth.

The Road continued.

 

[Makaela Sylbella]

Pain like bolts of white hot lightning flared out from the site of the wound as the strange being applied pressure. A heavy-lidded eye forced itself open, golden iris glancing around unfocused before it rolled back up inside her head.

"That was a good shirt-" The protest was weak, feeble even, all things considered when her life was at stake.

What was her life lately? She'd been so consumed with rage and the all-consuming desire of vengeance. Her very worldview had narrowed to an almost pinpoint focus. Eating. Sleeping. Fucking. They all lost their joy, their warmth, their taste. The colors had faded to various shades of gray. The only thing keeping her waking each morning had been the hope that one day she would find the joy in being able to return the favor ten-fold to her brother, to wipe the smug smirk she imagined he woke up with every day with the thought he was the sole heir to their family name.

Her body rocked as she was lifted off the ground, a groan rolling from her lips, her arms flopping. "Oww."

The world faded as darkness consumed her.

Bright light shined down, the sound of birds chirping in the trees as the leaves rustled in the overhead canopy. "Makaela," A familiar voice taunted before coming into view, holding a small bird in his cupped palms. The smile was beyond proud, he had accomplished a feat before her and it was almost taunting its mocking severity.

"Let it go." The protest sounded pitiful, almost petulant. "You shouldn't keep it."

He gave her a sneer. "Not until you admit that I'm better than you."

"Fine." An exasperated sigh as two golden eyes looked into her brother's onyx ones, this game beyond ancient. "You're better than me in this. Happy?"

He smirked. "No." And he released the bird, its wings spread and it vanished through a nearby window, disappearing among the branches. "But it's a start."

 

[Vyn]

The Road never stopped. But it was longer today. Felt slower. She never blamed the woman out loud. That seemed cruel and cheap. But she didn't soften either. Pale adjusted to the new pace without command. Sometimes she was certain they were reading her mind.

The wounded woman would wince from time to time. Each sound would make Vyn flinch. Each time She was hurting her with this movement. But it was either this or leaving her to die. Death may have been a mercy, but dying never was. Sometimes it took days. Sometimes all manner of creatures found you. Sometimes it was worse.

The landscape shifted to a hillside and she was starting to recognize the area. The fork should be coming up soon.

„Ever carry something so long you forgot when you first picked it up?“ she asked loud enough for a person to hear. Wondered if the Pale would respond even if she kept her mouth shut.

The head tilted out of sync with the rest of the movements. Less alien, more uncanny now. „Yes“ The child again. „But when remember. Memory has teeth.“ She had to think about that answer. Not the worst response she got out of them. Better than some people really.

Her thoughts were interrupted as she could hear the woman's dreamy mumbling. The switch in the saddle was fast enough to feel like whiplash.

„Don't!“

The word was enough. Frozen mid-motion, the creature argued with her „Said down. I do.“ Vyn shook her head in disbelief at the conversation. „Not that one!“ And she'd chance a small addition at the end. „You don't listen to anyone other than me.“ The creature did not respond. This was the best she could do without provoking suspicion.

They were coming upon the fork she was expecting. The left path was still muddy. It smelled differently before. Better. More like moss. Right path she remembered. That's what they took last time. When the Wagon wheel broke just over the small hill. Its bones likely still peppering the hilltop. Sometimes the road had teeth too.

She dismounted and used that chance to look the woman over. Breathing steady enough. Not too pale. Might make it yet.

Time to decide which way forked better.

 

[Makaela Sylbella]

Mother nature could be a harsh teacher. Her lessons quick and unforgiving, those too slow to learn, to improve, could find death their only reward. Her twin and her enjoyed chancing the fates, rolling the dice on their lives, again and again. Seeming to grow emboldened in their perceived sense of immortality. They had lengthened lifespans but gods they were not.

"Do you ever wonder about what comes after?" Dark eyes seem to bore deep into gold. "Ever think about what happens when we draw our last breath and pass from this mortal plane?"

"No."

"Well, I do-" A quick flurry of motion and she was falling, golden stands fluttering about her as she stared at the wicked smirk on her brother's face as it drifted further and further away.

Crack. The sound of a branch snapping as her weight made contact. A brief hesitation and then gravity dragging again.

Thump. The world fading to black, pain overwhelming. Her mind shrinking as her vision blurred, the last sight that of boots stepping next to her head, her brother's onyx eyes cruel.

One gold eye peeked out from beneath a heavy brow, blinking against the harsh sunlight. She began to look around. Coughed once. A second time. Her mouth opened, tongue rolling around to wet the desert her mouth had become.

"Where..." A pause. Try again. "Where are we?"

 

[Vyn]

The woman stirred.

Without a sound, the Pale's grip readjusted slightly. Cough followed by words. „Still with me.“ She was trying to stretch out the side-effects of being saddled for so long. The slope wasn't the best place for a longer stop.

„Didn't leave you. You should be pleased to hear.“ Words and then more words. Lulling the woman as close she could to a sense of normal. Because if she really looked, what held her would be obvious.

So much time had already passed. Sun came up. The Pale never tired. She was pretty sure they had some level of human feeling, it was just unclear where it ended. „Try not to bleed again. I've only so many bandages left to name.“

„We are scouting the Road for danger. Need to pick the best path at this fork coming up.“ She walked slow. Talked slow. Pointed up the path as she did. Unsure if the woman was following any of this.

„I'm Vyn. Can you walk or do you need to be carried?“

 

[Makaela Sylbella]

"Where is with you?" Makaela growled out, still weary from her injuries. Her mind wasn't in the state she wanted it to be, still trying to piece together the pieces of current events.

Sighing, she acquiesced. "I'm pleased you did not leave me, yes."

The mention of the bandages had her gaze slowly drifting down to her abdomen, a still weak finger reaching out to poke where the bloody bandage lay, wincing at the flare of pain that followed. Biting her lower lip, she slowly ran her gaze over the rest of her body, taking stock of her other injuries. Satisfied she was no longer presently at risk of dying, she let her gaze drift back to the origins of the woman's voice, squinting her remaining eye against the harsh glare of the sun.

"Scouting I understand." She granted, ribs still hurting. "I think I can walk, maybe."

She'd have to though. She had somewhere she had to be, someone she had to kill. Couldn't go dying now.

As soon as her feet were lowered to the ground, she took two halting steps forward before face-planting in the dirt, golden locks splaying out around her. She lifted one warning finger before pushing both palms against the wet dirt, fingers curling into the earth, and pushed against the ground. She lifted her sore body, aching with fresh pain from the fall, into a kneeling position. Then she was able to slowly stand, wobbling slightly before righting herself. She began brushing the dirt off her tunic and trousers.

Satisfied she was not going to topple over again, she gave a mock bow, bending at the waist. "My name is Makaela, thank you for saving my life."

 

[Vyn]

The woman was trying to walk on her own. And fell. Some people needed to fall down a couple times to rise properly. She wouldn't assist. Such was the Road. Same rules for everyone. She'd nod at the success following the struggle. Good.

What interested her more was woman's complete lack of acknowledgement of the Pale. Didn't look. Didn't ask. Didn't panic. Perhaps it was better that way.

Some people couldn't process such things. She'd seen it before. Eyes glazing over when they saw it. They weren't really there, not any more. Some people were born to the shroud and some weren't. She guessed that it made sense in a way. As far as coping mechanisms went – she was a firm believer in whatever worked.

She gave the Pale a thought and confirmed a suspicion. It started to blur. Fuzzier around the edges. Mist letting go with the dawn. An earthbound cloud. Less. And then nothing at all. Gone as quietly as it came.

„Where is not an easy question to answer.“ And in truth she wasn't certain. „Northwest of the main road. Three hours' ride from the nearest landmark I couldn't name. A village of some sort in the western distance. Clear enough if you squint.“ She would describe what she could. She wasn't too familiar with these parts. She only repurposed what she needed.

„You'll forgive me for the rough ride.“ Then pointing up to the fork. „Two ways ahead. Supposed to figure out which one we should be taking this year. Went right last time. Didn't work out so well.“

„Up for helping me decide, or should I pick for us both?“

 

[Makaela Sylbella]

"What was that..that thing?" Makaela hazarded a question, one well-manicured brow rising slightly. "I mean. I've seen some strange things in my travel, experienced them too. Comes with the territory when you've walked this world for a century or more."

She frowned at the vague descriptions of their current location. Then she mentally slapped herself. It wasn't fair to be ungrateful. The woman and the thing had saved her life. They had mended her when she was broken, carried her along on their journey when they could just have easily left her to lay to die back where she collapsed. She listened to the woman, her attention still slightly fuzzy from her recovery, though she did turn and squint toward the direction of the possible village, seeing a vague outline, though it wavered like a trick of the mind.

No, not that way. She mused. Can't be sure I won't be discovered and returned so close to the scene of the crime.

When asked if she would be interested in helping her decide, she reached up to brush gold locks over one pointed ear, her lips tilting slightly upward in a smile.

"Quite alright, I'm used to making the best of things when I'm beaten or bruised. Comes with traveling." She gave a slow exhale and stretched, hands coming to rest on her hips, fingers splayed. "Depends. What are you considering when you go to make the decision? What factors are you weighing to determine if one choice is of more value than the other? Why did the direction you chose last year not work out?"

 

[Vyn]

„One of mine. Maybe I'm one of its. Matter of opinion“ She shrugged. „Road offers many forms of company. That one's kinder than most.“ She was surprised enough to speak beyond her plans. Better not to push it still. No reason to name things now.

She stepped a bit forward pointing up. „The left path smells better. No dogs or crows since last night. Likely to find less death there.“ And then the other direction. „That one however took our wheel last year. Took hours to fix. And something took one of our cooks in the underbrush. Didn't end well.“ They weren't able to tell what exactly had killed the man. It was quick and it was loud. Animalistic. No one could make anything beyond the growling and the stomping sounds. „Doesn't mean it'll happen again mind you. The Road hasn't much of a memory. But we remember. We hesitate.“ They both looked clean now. The left one a bit muddy perhaps. The right one would probably be faster again, but it held more memories.

„So tell me, Makaela, which one would you choose?“ She had another question. About coming out alone and wounded to the middle of nowhere to die. About avoiding the nearby village. About the blood. Best not to press it. It was none of her business and the woman didn't pose any danger to Vyn.

One could put little trust in bloody strangers. But you could always trust the Road.

 

[Makaela Sylbella]

"I'm gonna pretend anything you said made sense." The elf replied with carefully measured patience. "But for the sake of argument, let's say I don't. What does that mean?"

She lifted a hand to scratch at her golden locks where they fell in lazy waves from her scalp. "I mean, I've seen and experienced some strange things in my travels, but not that and not the way it moved or spoke."

"Very valid reasons to ignore both." She retorted. "You could perhaps turn back, find another split and try one of those forks?"

She moved like fluid silk, a flash of steel pressed against the cheek of the other woman, gold iris narrowed. "That wasn't the question you wanted to ask, was it though?"

"But alas, I owe you." The dagger vanished as quickly as it had appeared among her clothing. "You spared my life, so I shall spare yours."

She hummed, walking forward, boots crunching on the dirt before she lowered to a knee, golden eye narrowing as she read the path and trail before rising and moving to do the same with the other. "Hmm, there does not appear to be much in the way of traffic in either path."

"We shall trust in luck today." A coin appeared between two fingers, spinning and sliding between the digits before she flicked it spinning into the air. "Heads for left, tails for right."

She waited for the coins to fall even with her chest before snatching it mid-flight and slapping it on to the back of her other hand, lifting it to reveal heads.

She lifted the coin to the other woman to display the result. "Heads, left it is."

 

[Vyn]

Best Vyn could do was to smile meekly at the woman. If she talked more, it would make less sense. So the frustration was shared on that account. Some things were just meant to be strange. It seemed like she noticed the creature after all. Elf took advantage of her deeper thoughts to pull up on her. Quicker than a wounded animal should be. Not fast, simply unexpected.

A knife to her face. And for the briefest moment a shadow passed over. She wasn't Vyn, she was a Pathlight of the Elum and putting her in danger was putting her people in danger. It was truly lucky a Pale wasn't already summoned, because it would've been undoing all the care they'd given the wounded woman. As quickly as the blade came it was withdrawn. All part of a great performance for Makaela. Some sort of a meaningless power play. She was talking and throwing coins and making jokes, but Vyn just felt her empty fill up with a slow boil.

So when she spoke, the words were calm. „Barely blood enough to stand and playing the killer? Charming.“ She wasn't even sure it was anger. Simply a quiet resignation that if one life had to end here it wouldn't be hers. She had people waiting. „You bled into the dirt and I carried you. I don't care who you are or what you've done.“ And she didn't. Everyone carried bad inside them. And sometimes the bad was powerful enough to carry you. „But you owe me more than blades and threats.“

„You want to come with me? Then you need to learn the Road! You don't draw on those that mend your wheels.“ Tired.

She walked around Makaela, keeping a healthy distance, pulling her horse along. „Next time I won't leave you in the dirt. Next time I'll put you there.“ And she went left. Because whatever luck predicted that path to be good was the same creature that still allowed Makaela to draw breath.

That was a powerful story. One worth listening.

 

[Makaela Sylbella]

"You must not be very clear on the ways of this world stranger," Makaela whispered in clearly measured words, seeming to select and weigh each with the same consideration a master carver would select a piece of wood. "Just because something isn't wounded, it doesn't mean it is harmless."

She made an exaggerated motion of shrugging. "I sheathed the blade, saw no harm came of it to you. But I was just illustrating to you that you may have saved my life, but that didn't give you any right to threaten it."

"I never said anything about coming with you." She retorted with a roll of her golden iris. "I'm merely tagging along until we reach the next town and then I'm gone. I have no desire to learn the Road, whatever that even is. I have a job already and it is more than enough to consume my life when I have completed it. I have no desire to go seeking something more."

Her lip curled up in a snarl. "You need to quit threatening my life."

She adjusted her tunic and trousers, brushing the dirt off of them. Then she rose and resumed walking, following the trail as it veered right. The desire to continue trying to understand or grasp the strange woman who had saved her life or make sense of her strange speech was no longer present - talking about the road as if it were a living thing, of all things. She had enough to try to make sense of on her plate with her twin, she had no need to make things more complicated.

With a wave, she turned her back and let her path carry her where it would.