50th of Spring, 522 A.V.
Cleon woke that day much as he frequently had throughout this season. Covered in a cold sweat, with the covers tossed away from him at some point during the night. It was yet in those darkest hours before dawn, but he could not go back to sleep no matter what he tried. So rather than remain and continue to disturb Faye, he got up to go for a stroll around the Inn to calm his mind. Before he exited the Protea however, he dropped by the common room to see if he might grab a snack. Then about fifteen chimes later, he exited the Inn with a piece of bread stuffed into his mouth and a thick sheaf of parchment in his hands though he did not remember picking up either. Confused, he looked around, doing a quick spin until his eyes fell on a note that had been left near the main entrance, and there was a thought that he felt like he should be doing something now. Sliding the parchment into the waistband of his trousers, he carefully read the note which helpfully listed the curses that plagued Syka with a special note about the owner of this particular establishment.
Chewing thoughtfully, he had a sudden idea that maybe, probably that was why he couldn’t remember going to the common room he had only just left. Which left him in a bit of a curious position as naturally he felt the impulse to go back in and see if he could apologize to whoever this Tazrae was before he quickly realized that wouldn’t do him much good, and he’d just be back to where he was. Not only that, it would probably be fairly frustrating for the owner of this establishment whom had enough on her plate dealing a full inn of guests who couldn’t remember a petching thing about her.
Still, it was another chime before he finally decided to walk away from the inn and try to forget about that confusing interaction. He would just have to add it to the growing list of petched up things that had happened this season, and call it a day, er.. Morning? It was too early to write off a day that had yet to begin, and didn’t they have some meeting today? He counted on his fingers, nodding along as he confirmed that it was indeed a tenday, his fifth one in fact, and then continued on his way walking down the beach, listening to the chorus of waves slapping against the beach. It was almost enough to make him want to wade into those dark, salty waters yet he resisted as he didn’t really relish the idea of having to change his clothes with Faye still sleeping. She needed all the rest she could get from this waking nightmare.
As a bit of a compromise, he kicked off his shoes and stepped carefully across the packed wet sand, letting the water lick at his toes as he made his way along the shoreline. He had pointedly came out this way to avoid the other side which seemed far more popular with the Ixam that had come to take a liking to Syka. He didn’t really have a problem with the giant lizards, but that didn’t mean he wanted to take any chances he could avoid. His luck wasn’t exactly the greatest, and neither was he the keenest mind when it came to animals.
In the distance, along the curve in the beach opposite him, he saw a distant figure walking along the water’s edge much like he was, and he supposed that he wasn’t the only one who was having trouble sleeping lately. He supposed then that he should be surprised there were not more people doing the same, especially with some of the curses they had been afflicted with. It almost made Cleon feel lucky to only have to deal with his, but that wasn’t quite the right word for the sentiment. He didn’t have a proper one actually, just a vague sort of sadness that he could only feel in a detached sort of way.
As he walked on, he and the figure drew closer to one another till he recognized that it was Randal who had the unfortunate burden of looking more beastly by the day. Acting like it too, as more than once Cleon had caught him at the shop pawing at the ground or snorting in a way that was decidedly inhuman. His curse Cleon hadn’t quite managed to wrap his head around, but he felt bad for the man regardless. If you’d asked him if he would have felt the same way when he had first come to Syka, the answer would have been an easy no, but now, after so much had transpired between them. Well, suffice it to say the man had his respect, and Cleon found himself often looking forward to the day when he could get to know Randal sans curse.
When they drew alongside each other, Cleon raised his hand in greeting, nodding with a slight smile he wasn’t so sure could be discerned in the twilight. If there hadn’t been a moon out, he’d probably have been left wondering at a silhouette until they drew closer, but as it stood he had been able to make out enough details to discern who it was even leaving out Randal’s distinctive gait which had a sort of bounce to it. Seeing him up close in his full glory with flattened nose, and thick horns curling out the sides of his tangled mass of hair, Cleon tipped his head slightly towards the man.
“Ello Randal. Couldn’t sleep as well?” Cleon asked, straightening his clothes unconsciously and feeling something light fall down the length of his left trouser leg. Confused, he dropped to a crouch as he felt along his leg and then there was the unmistakable crinkle of parchment underneath his hand. Immediately he fished it out through the bottom of his trouser leg, and then held out the curious set of papers before him, although he struggled to make out the handwriting with just the moonlight to go by.
“What’s that?” Randal asked in a thick voice, that was somewhat muffled by the large, flat teeth that featured prominently in his mouth now.
“This was a letter I got from the Protea Inn. I think the owner gave it to me, but I forgot to read it, or forgot I read it.” Cleon said slowly before he started to fold it up.
Randal snorted, then made a sort of chuffing sound as he dug the his heel into the packed wet sand. “Well aren’t you going to read it?”
“I can’t the light’s to poor.” Cleon argued, although he didn’t put the letter away quite just yet.
“Its probably important if they gave it to you. Come on, theres a torch lit not far away.” Randal said after rolling his eyes, and Cleon decided it was in his best interest to follow the founder.
* * * * *
As it turned out, he should have read the message while he was still outside of the Protea for its contents were of immediate interest to all of the residents of Syka, himself included. While Cleon was beating himself up for his foolish delay, Randal went to gather the other founders to let them know, and to get this tenday meeting started as soon as possible. With one caveat that Cleon didn’t like in the slightest. He was to open it, in front of all of the people of Syka. Oh petch, why did it have to be him of all people.
Waiting for everyone to gather up didn’t help in the slightest as Cleon read and re-read the note over and over again, not truly believing what had been dropped into his lap. It felt almost like he hadn’t woken up this morning and he was still fast asleep. It would have been better for him if that was true, however he wasn’t that lucky. The chimes continued to tick on as more and more people were summoned out on the beach in front of the central part of the commons, and the dreaded moment loomed ever closer. More than once Cleon thought about sampling a few drinks while he waited, but he resisted that urge as the last thing he wanted to do was to be slurring his words in front of a crowd. He’d never recover, although it was hard to keep a firm eye on the future when he had this unpleasant task ahead of him.
At last the time came, with James walking onto the stage to address the people gathered there, and Cleon standing their off somewhat to the left trembling with his sheets of parchment. Although he had grown well over a foot during the course of this season, he still felt like a small boy standing there in front of so many people.
“Welcome everyone to the fifth tenday celebration this season. We’ve gathered you all up here early because some very important information has recently come into our hands, and we all agree that it is prudent to get this out there as soon as possible so we can all start working towards a solution for these curses. So without further interruption, here is Cleon who will be presenting the letter he received this morning. Please keep quite until the full thing has been read, and then we can have our discussion about it afterward.” James said, and Cleon watched as the man turned to gesture him forward.
With a dry swallow, Cleon nodded nervously before taking his position, holding the parchment shakily between twitching fingers.
“So uh.. Yeah.. Here it goes.”
"Dear People of Syka,
My name is Alric. I have spent most of my life, up until the past few seasons, living in Sunberth. Now I split my time between that anarchic city and the Outpost, where I have an apartment that I share with others, and bought with a resident in your village. I don’t really like talking about myself, but I find myself in a position where I have little choice but to do so, otherwise it feels like things will not get better. Suffice to say I have my motivations for this letter, but I also don’t like people’s freedom of choice being removed from them. Especially in such a cruel way as has been described to me.
Some of you I know, and so you will know me, others I have only heard of by name and can put no face or persona to it. It matters little at this time, beyond the fact that those who know me will be able to vouch for the truth of who I am, and what is found below in this letter.
Oralie and Bree both know me, and I believe none can say they are dishonest souls. Bree can hardly keep her words in sometimes, but she is a Shellmate - I have missed you by the way, you should come visit one day - and Oralie is a friend who has visited me here, in the Outpost. I have met Shiress, Shade, Cleon and Naadiya in passing. I do not believe that any of them should have a reason to say that I would be untrustworthy. If so…well I can’t please everyone.
Oralie, and Tazrae if you are there and not in the jungle wilds, I give you full permission to share with everyone, everything about me, if that’s what it takes to solve this and convince people. I don’t care anymore, it is time that I accepted it anyway. I do not write it here because if it is not required then it makes things less…complicated. But tell them, if they need to know who is doing this writing in the full.
Tazrae is the one amongst you that I knew best before this, one who is far dearer to me than any of you can know, and none of you will remember her. She is cursed to be forgotten by all, not just all of you there in Syka, but by myself also. She owns the Protea Inn and has kept many of you in food and board for many seasons. She is a good soul and this season has brought suffering that I would end tomorrow, if I could. This curse reaches beyond the borders of your village in a jungle paradise and, frankly, it is getting bloody annoying for me, let alone all of you.
On the 1st of the season this all began, as far as I can figure it, and I learned this through Tazrae. We have been corresponding by letter regularly, seeing as it is the only damned way that I could remember things involving her at the beginning of the season. She thought of The Letterbox, and I think that you will all owe her for that instinct in the future. I know it was the only way that I could try to figure out, alongside meeting some of you, what might have been going on, why and…more importantly…how to potentially fix this nightmare. But first, the short version of my story this season.
On the 1st I was paid a visit by Tazrae, who I had forgotten, but who somehow managed to talk me around to listening to the absolutely, crazy tale of the curses visited upon all of you. Proof of her existence in my life prior to the 1st was found in my own writings (and a picture of her I drew in Winter – a copy – is enclosed for anyone who wishes to look at it, excuse my terrible drawing skills) and so, The Letterbox correspondence was formed as a way of both staying sane – or as sane as we can be – and the exchange of information about Syka, and these curses. I was also given a list of those afflicted, later in the season, and have pondered upon them for some time now. So long I suppose I’ll be told when this is over that I have too much free time and should be put to work.
But the letters weren’t enough, there was a hole within that was empty…like having something cut out without my knowing…and a sense of profound loss. It was impossible to let it go, and given my own proclivity for puzzles and seeking of knowledge, it was impossible not to meddle. I am marked by Eyris – only 1 mark but still – it allows me to…read Djed stored upon things, get insights, flashes of images and intent sometimes. If any are marked among you then they can verify what I’m saying…if not…well, you’ll just have to believe me.
Anyway…I spent every day, in every spare bit of time, trying to read everything in my home. It took a long time, and did not always give me the answers that I looked for, but eventually I could build up a picture of who Tazrae was, how she felt, what mattered to her, how she was…and so on. Not detailed enough to know all of her really, perhaps, but enough to know her and trust her. I have written that she suggested I share this with you all, but I am unsure how much I was allowed to share, so Tazrae, I am sorry if I shared too much. But you mean enough to me that I’ll gladly accept the telling off, if this works. By doing this I have shown that it is possible to see past the curses upon you all, and that divine magic is the key required.
I would come and try to read your whole village if I could, but I cannot get there in time as stepping on a ship would take over a season. Whilst I would willingly do that tomorrow, I fear that to take that long to undo what has already been done in Syka would mean catastrophe. There is an urgency here at play that I can feel, like the shifting sands in an hourglass. I think…I think you need to resolve this by season’s end…or it will only get worse. You need each other now, more than ever, so if there is any strife there, then I suggest you all stuff it where Syna won’t grace with her presence, until this is all over. Pride was the downfall of some of my ancestors, I would see it not happen to you all.
You will need to find someone closer to you all to do this reading, but do it quickly so that you can begin the counter-stroke of this game, a game that is for keeps, I think. Recently I have become...entangled…with the Gods and Goddesses…in ways that have not always been to my liking. I suppose that I could call one a friend, another one who has helped and the third, a long distant relative. Eyris is one…Vas is another…I have it noted down that at least one of those is familiar to some of you. And Croix…well he helped save my life. I tell you this not to brag, because honestly others can verify, I’d rather have peace and comfort, but to show you the scope of what is at stake, what is playing out.
In my last meetings with some of them I was told of another God, one who was responsible for the shattering of our world – at least in part, for we mortals are our own worst enemies also – Rhysol. God of Evil, Chaos, Betrayal and Lies. I capitalise these words for a reason…because you are, all of you, I think being screwed with by him. I have sent a copy of the ‘curse list’ with this letter, though I am sure there are copies there for you to read also. Read them all, all of you. Read them out after this letter, if you must. When I first read the list, I was confused as they seemed arbitrary, random…almost mad in their specifics. Why have that curse and not another? Why go for a lack of direction rather than a crippling blight that would wipe Syka out in a score of days through lack of sustenance?
Founders…you know your people best and they probably trust you more than they would me…which is right. Is there a pattern there? Because having met Tazrae and others I have been left with the sense that these are very personal, and that they are meant to make you suffer. Rhysol feeds off of the seeds of the chaos these curses sow, and I would be surprised if he wasn’t able to see them playing out somehow, enjoying the show of his own sowed destructions. Divine magic must be fought with the divine…there is no other way.
There are two amongst you who have no curses, and they are priests. That seems too neat to be a coincidence to me, and so feels like a confirmation of my thoughts. I do not know if you can summon your divines to you, but it would seem an apt time to do so if you can. I assume, though, that you have already tried but it has not worked. Perhaps, if you can locate the threat then the Guardians could do the rest on behalf of Kihala. But…I do think he is the one to blame, given the scale of what is happening, and that it will require the divine to push back, on some level. But I have never been wise, so check my words against your own hearts.
"You need to find one who can see through the lies, read the path of the curses and feel the motivations behind this evil. Find yourself a Lykata marked, protect them, and let them walk through your world and tell you what they see. Let them track down the source so that you know what you can do to stop it. But most of all, you need a united front. I can only imagine how you have all suffered, and how fractured things might have become, from before when all was well.
Work together, not just to survive, but to strengthen the bonds that are an anathema to this magic. Become the opposite of who the bastard is and, perhaps, with the help of your own divines you can kick this back into the ocean and live as free people once again.
This is probably the only time, outside of my own family, that I’ve even partially told people what to do. I prefer people to live their own lives and do as they wish. I don’t generally like to take responsibility for others, an irony given how I’ve been told I take too much for myself. But over half the season has passed and I have slowly been losing the thing that matters to me most…so I feel I have no choice. If we ever meet, please know that I do this as I see no other choice.
"And get a damned move on it, please…I want to remember again, and I would like to come see Syka one day. I never was one for dreams, but I was given one recently, and now I’m fighting for it the only way that I can. I wish that I could stand beside you in this fight…but I can’t. I have done all that I can…the rest is up to you.
May the odds be ever in your favour, and Eyris grant you the wisdom to see through the veil. "
"Good Luck,
Alric
Son of Serana & Kalas"
"P.S. for Tazrae - I mean it Tazrae, if they demand to know before they will listen, you tell them everything about me. I’d rather lose my anonymity than lose you. And they found me once already anyway, so what’s the point now? When the curse breaks, as I’m sure it will, come and see me.
P.P.S for Oralie – There is a courage in you that you have yet to realise, perhaps. The shadow exists because of the light you possess within. I thought upon your curse a bit more as I know you, I think it is supposed to be a mockery of Priskil’s affection…you are stronger than it by far. Use her light to rise above, and carry the light for others in their time of need
P.P.P.S for Shiress – I have healed well from the fights. Lys healed ages ago from the bite, and is back to haranguing me. I may require healing again one day, but for now we are fine. You have a gift for healing. Now, I offer the chance for healing to you"
When the letter had been read in full, Cleon awkwardly bowed to the assembled people and promptly departed stage right where he practically ran for the booze as he heard James take his place behind him.
“Now, not all at once, we’ll do this in an orderly fashion as this has given us all a lot to think about. Raise your hand if you wish to speak at this time.” James said behind him, but Cleon was no longer listening to much of anything now, and he had eyes only for the mug that was in his hands now. It was blue, sweet with a slice of mango protruding from the top. The perfect beverage for the perfect view this self ascribed loner was currently enjoying of watching the everything unfold.
Namely the three shapely backs of women with decidedly different tastes in dress. There was Juli in the middle who was wearing a loose isuas skirt that fell at an angle down the back of her legs, while up top he could only see the simple strap of a bikini. To her right there was Indigo who still managed to give him a good view even while wearing more, as she was clad in a pair of thick trousers, boots, and a long sleeve blouse. Like many of the times he had seen her of late, she seemed to have all her possessions near at hand as Cleon distantly recalled she was prone to getting lost due to her particular curse.
Finally on the left there was Dawn who unlike the other two could not wear the clothes he was familiar seeing on her, and instead wore an over sized linen shirt that had slipped half way down her right shoulder, and a colorful linen skirt that went almost to her calf. Recalling that she had a problem with Isuas he still found himself a bit curious as to why she hadn’t altered already these clothes but then again, who was he to judge on such decisions. Perhaps she like he was hoping for a quick solution to all of their ills, and thus felt like altering these garments would somehow make it all the more real.
Cleon frowned at the though, and took another drink. It wasn’t like him to look so deeply into things, but it was better then letting his mind tarry on what had just transpired. Speaking of distractions, he realized quickly when Indigo noticed his leering because suddenly he was ducking out the way of a thrown rock, spilling his drink all over himself in the process. Juli didn’t turn around, but Dawn made an uncomfortable observation before turning back towards the gathering leaving only Indigo glaring at him. Having been down this road already once before, Cleon hesitantly walked over, picking up the rock along the way and then when he was just a few paces shy of her, placed the rock gingerly in her hand.
When he looked up. Well.. She. Was. Fuming. Her nostrils were flaring as she gave him a wild eyed stare and simply pointed at a spot away from the gathering where there would be a reasonable amount of privacy. Looking over at that spot, then back at her, and back at the spot again, Cleon reluctantly nodded, and started to walk over, grabbing a drink before he did so.
He managed to get a few gulps in before they got over to the spot, and Indigo slapped the mug out of his hand. Then in one smooth motion she pushed him, Cleon felt his back slam into the ground, and rolled to dodge the kick that was surely coming. Too slow. Hee felt it glance off the back of his hip, and he winced as he froze, feeling her standing over him although he couldn’t see much more than a thin, flickering shadow.
“What have I told you about perving on me? Have you already forgotten what I said I do the next time I caught you?” She growled, and with the edge of her foot, rolled him over. Cleon didn’t resist, rolling over with the momentum and finding himself in the uncomfortable position of looking up at Indigo towering over him. It was kind of hot if not for the fact that he was about to get pummeled.
Cleon flinched and held his arms crosswise in front of himself as he prepared for blows that were to come. One chime. Two. He opened his eyes and Indigo was still there but she hadn’t moved an inch. Instead, when their eyes met she dropped down to crouch over him, and while looking him dead in the eye stripped off his belt pouch and started rifling through it.
“I’ll let it go this time, but I’m taking something in return for sparing your face.” Indigo said tersely as she took both pouches of his pipe weed, and his pipe before throwing the bag on his chest. She stood up then, and after stowing the objects seemed to think for a long moment before a smile to her lips. A smile that scared him more than a little bit. Before he could even register what was happening, she pulled off his trousers and then turned to go jogging back to the gathering, folding them as she went.
For a long, long while, Cleon laid there stunned as he tried to comprehend the scene, and ended up just shaking his head as he started to feel a little angry, then a lot at just how petched up this all was. If she wanted to play that game, he could play that game. He thought petulantly as he stripped off his shirt and undergarments before stomping back towards the gathering to get a drink at one of the tables.
WC - 2,597
Chewing thoughtfully, he had a sudden idea that maybe, probably that was why he couldn’t remember going to the common room he had only just left. Which left him in a bit of a curious position as naturally he felt the impulse to go back in and see if he could apologize to whoever this Tazrae was before he quickly realized that wouldn’t do him much good, and he’d just be back to where he was. Not only that, it would probably be fairly frustrating for the owner of this establishment whom had enough on her plate dealing a full inn of guests who couldn’t remember a petching thing about her.
Still, it was another chime before he finally decided to walk away from the inn and try to forget about that confusing interaction. He would just have to add it to the growing list of petched up things that had happened this season, and call it a day, er.. Morning? It was too early to write off a day that had yet to begin, and didn’t they have some meeting today? He counted on his fingers, nodding along as he confirmed that it was indeed a tenday, his fifth one in fact, and then continued on his way walking down the beach, listening to the chorus of waves slapping against the beach. It was almost enough to make him want to wade into those dark, salty waters yet he resisted as he didn’t really relish the idea of having to change his clothes with Faye still sleeping. She needed all the rest she could get from this waking nightmare.
As a bit of a compromise, he kicked off his shoes and stepped carefully across the packed wet sand, letting the water lick at his toes as he made his way along the shoreline. He had pointedly came out this way to avoid the other side which seemed far more popular with the Ixam that had come to take a liking to Syka. He didn’t really have a problem with the giant lizards, but that didn’t mean he wanted to take any chances he could avoid. His luck wasn’t exactly the greatest, and neither was he the keenest mind when it came to animals.
In the distance, along the curve in the beach opposite him, he saw a distant figure walking along the water’s edge much like he was, and he supposed that he wasn’t the only one who was having trouble sleeping lately. He supposed then that he should be surprised there were not more people doing the same, especially with some of the curses they had been afflicted with. It almost made Cleon feel lucky to only have to deal with his, but that wasn’t quite the right word for the sentiment. He didn’t have a proper one actually, just a vague sort of sadness that he could only feel in a detached sort of way.
As he walked on, he and the figure drew closer to one another till he recognized that it was Randal who had the unfortunate burden of looking more beastly by the day. Acting like it too, as more than once Cleon had caught him at the shop pawing at the ground or snorting in a way that was decidedly inhuman. His curse Cleon hadn’t quite managed to wrap his head around, but he felt bad for the man regardless. If you’d asked him if he would have felt the same way when he had first come to Syka, the answer would have been an easy no, but now, after so much had transpired between them. Well, suffice it to say the man had his respect, and Cleon found himself often looking forward to the day when he could get to know Randal sans curse.
When they drew alongside each other, Cleon raised his hand in greeting, nodding with a slight smile he wasn’t so sure could be discerned in the twilight. If there hadn’t been a moon out, he’d probably have been left wondering at a silhouette until they drew closer, but as it stood he had been able to make out enough details to discern who it was even leaving out Randal’s distinctive gait which had a sort of bounce to it. Seeing him up close in his full glory with flattened nose, and thick horns curling out the sides of his tangled mass of hair, Cleon tipped his head slightly towards the man.
“Ello Randal. Couldn’t sleep as well?” Cleon asked, straightening his clothes unconsciously and feeling something light fall down the length of his left trouser leg. Confused, he dropped to a crouch as he felt along his leg and then there was the unmistakable crinkle of parchment underneath his hand. Immediately he fished it out through the bottom of his trouser leg, and then held out the curious set of papers before him, although he struggled to make out the handwriting with just the moonlight to go by.
“What’s that?” Randal asked in a thick voice, that was somewhat muffled by the large, flat teeth that featured prominently in his mouth now.
“This was a letter I got from the Protea Inn. I think the owner gave it to me, but I forgot to read it, or forgot I read it.” Cleon said slowly before he started to fold it up.
Randal snorted, then made a sort of chuffing sound as he dug the his heel into the packed wet sand. “Well aren’t you going to read it?”
“I can’t the light’s to poor.” Cleon argued, although he didn’t put the letter away quite just yet.
“Its probably important if they gave it to you. Come on, theres a torch lit not far away.” Randal said after rolling his eyes, and Cleon decided it was in his best interest to follow the founder.
* * * * *
As it turned out, he should have read the message while he was still outside of the Protea for its contents were of immediate interest to all of the residents of Syka, himself included. While Cleon was beating himself up for his foolish delay, Randal went to gather the other founders to let them know, and to get this tenday meeting started as soon as possible. With one caveat that Cleon didn’t like in the slightest. He was to open it, in front of all of the people of Syka. Oh petch, why did it have to be him of all people.
Waiting for everyone to gather up didn’t help in the slightest as Cleon read and re-read the note over and over again, not truly believing what had been dropped into his lap. It felt almost like he hadn’t woken up this morning and he was still fast asleep. It would have been better for him if that was true, however he wasn’t that lucky. The chimes continued to tick on as more and more people were summoned out on the beach in front of the central part of the commons, and the dreaded moment loomed ever closer. More than once Cleon thought about sampling a few drinks while he waited, but he resisted that urge as the last thing he wanted to do was to be slurring his words in front of a crowd. He’d never recover, although it was hard to keep a firm eye on the future when he had this unpleasant task ahead of him.
At last the time came, with James walking onto the stage to address the people gathered there, and Cleon standing their off somewhat to the left trembling with his sheets of parchment. Although he had grown well over a foot during the course of this season, he still felt like a small boy standing there in front of so many people.
“Welcome everyone to the fifth tenday celebration this season. We’ve gathered you all up here early because some very important information has recently come into our hands, and we all agree that it is prudent to get this out there as soon as possible so we can all start working towards a solution for these curses. So without further interruption, here is Cleon who will be presenting the letter he received this morning. Please keep quite until the full thing has been read, and then we can have our discussion about it afterward.” James said, and Cleon watched as the man turned to gesture him forward.
With a dry swallow, Cleon nodded nervously before taking his position, holding the parchment shakily between twitching fingers.
“So uh.. Yeah.. Here it goes.”
"Dear People of Syka,
My name is Alric. I have spent most of my life, up until the past few seasons, living in Sunberth. Now I split my time between that anarchic city and the Outpost, where I have an apartment that I share with others, and bought with a resident in your village. I don’t really like talking about myself, but I find myself in a position where I have little choice but to do so, otherwise it feels like things will not get better. Suffice to say I have my motivations for this letter, but I also don’t like people’s freedom of choice being removed from them. Especially in such a cruel way as has been described to me.
Some of you I know, and so you will know me, others I have only heard of by name and can put no face or persona to it. It matters little at this time, beyond the fact that those who know me will be able to vouch for the truth of who I am, and what is found below in this letter.
Oralie and Bree both know me, and I believe none can say they are dishonest souls. Bree can hardly keep her words in sometimes, but she is a Shellmate - I have missed you by the way, you should come visit one day - and Oralie is a friend who has visited me here, in the Outpost. I have met Shiress, Shade, Cleon and Naadiya in passing. I do not believe that any of them should have a reason to say that I would be untrustworthy. If so…well I can’t please everyone.
Oralie, and Tazrae if you are there and not in the jungle wilds, I give you full permission to share with everyone, everything about me, if that’s what it takes to solve this and convince people. I don’t care anymore, it is time that I accepted it anyway. I do not write it here because if it is not required then it makes things less…complicated. But tell them, if they need to know who is doing this writing in the full.
Tazrae is the one amongst you that I knew best before this, one who is far dearer to me than any of you can know, and none of you will remember her. She is cursed to be forgotten by all, not just all of you there in Syka, but by myself also. She owns the Protea Inn and has kept many of you in food and board for many seasons. She is a good soul and this season has brought suffering that I would end tomorrow, if I could. This curse reaches beyond the borders of your village in a jungle paradise and, frankly, it is getting bloody annoying for me, let alone all of you.
On the 1st of the season this all began, as far as I can figure it, and I learned this through Tazrae. We have been corresponding by letter regularly, seeing as it is the only damned way that I could remember things involving her at the beginning of the season. She thought of The Letterbox, and I think that you will all owe her for that instinct in the future. I know it was the only way that I could try to figure out, alongside meeting some of you, what might have been going on, why and…more importantly…how to potentially fix this nightmare. But first, the short version of my story this season.
On the 1st I was paid a visit by Tazrae, who I had forgotten, but who somehow managed to talk me around to listening to the absolutely, crazy tale of the curses visited upon all of you. Proof of her existence in my life prior to the 1st was found in my own writings (and a picture of her I drew in Winter – a copy – is enclosed for anyone who wishes to look at it, excuse my terrible drawing skills) and so, The Letterbox correspondence was formed as a way of both staying sane – or as sane as we can be – and the exchange of information about Syka, and these curses. I was also given a list of those afflicted, later in the season, and have pondered upon them for some time now. So long I suppose I’ll be told when this is over that I have too much free time and should be put to work.
But the letters weren’t enough, there was a hole within that was empty…like having something cut out without my knowing…and a sense of profound loss. It was impossible to let it go, and given my own proclivity for puzzles and seeking of knowledge, it was impossible not to meddle. I am marked by Eyris – only 1 mark but still – it allows me to…read Djed stored upon things, get insights, flashes of images and intent sometimes. If any are marked among you then they can verify what I’m saying…if not…well, you’ll just have to believe me.
Anyway…I spent every day, in every spare bit of time, trying to read everything in my home. It took a long time, and did not always give me the answers that I looked for, but eventually I could build up a picture of who Tazrae was, how she felt, what mattered to her, how she was…and so on. Not detailed enough to know all of her really, perhaps, but enough to know her and trust her. I have written that she suggested I share this with you all, but I am unsure how much I was allowed to share, so Tazrae, I am sorry if I shared too much. But you mean enough to me that I’ll gladly accept the telling off, if this works. By doing this I have shown that it is possible to see past the curses upon you all, and that divine magic is the key required.
I would come and try to read your whole village if I could, but I cannot get there in time as stepping on a ship would take over a season. Whilst I would willingly do that tomorrow, I fear that to take that long to undo what has already been done in Syka would mean catastrophe. There is an urgency here at play that I can feel, like the shifting sands in an hourglass. I think…I think you need to resolve this by season’s end…or it will only get worse. You need each other now, more than ever, so if there is any strife there, then I suggest you all stuff it where Syna won’t grace with her presence, until this is all over. Pride was the downfall of some of my ancestors, I would see it not happen to you all.
You will need to find someone closer to you all to do this reading, but do it quickly so that you can begin the counter-stroke of this game, a game that is for keeps, I think. Recently I have become...entangled…with the Gods and Goddesses…in ways that have not always been to my liking. I suppose that I could call one a friend, another one who has helped and the third, a long distant relative. Eyris is one…Vas is another…I have it noted down that at least one of those is familiar to some of you. And Croix…well he helped save my life. I tell you this not to brag, because honestly others can verify, I’d rather have peace and comfort, but to show you the scope of what is at stake, what is playing out.
In my last meetings with some of them I was told of another God, one who was responsible for the shattering of our world – at least in part, for we mortals are our own worst enemies also – Rhysol. God of Evil, Chaos, Betrayal and Lies. I capitalise these words for a reason…because you are, all of you, I think being screwed with by him. I have sent a copy of the ‘curse list’ with this letter, though I am sure there are copies there for you to read also. Read them all, all of you. Read them out after this letter, if you must. When I first read the list, I was confused as they seemed arbitrary, random…almost mad in their specifics. Why have that curse and not another? Why go for a lack of direction rather than a crippling blight that would wipe Syka out in a score of days through lack of sustenance?
Founders…you know your people best and they probably trust you more than they would me…which is right. Is there a pattern there? Because having met Tazrae and others I have been left with the sense that these are very personal, and that they are meant to make you suffer. Rhysol feeds off of the seeds of the chaos these curses sow, and I would be surprised if he wasn’t able to see them playing out somehow, enjoying the show of his own sowed destructions. Divine magic must be fought with the divine…there is no other way.
There are two amongst you who have no curses, and they are priests. That seems too neat to be a coincidence to me, and so feels like a confirmation of my thoughts. I do not know if you can summon your divines to you, but it would seem an apt time to do so if you can. I assume, though, that you have already tried but it has not worked. Perhaps, if you can locate the threat then the Guardians could do the rest on behalf of Kihala. But…I do think he is the one to blame, given the scale of what is happening, and that it will require the divine to push back, on some level. But I have never been wise, so check my words against your own hearts.
"You need to find one who can see through the lies, read the path of the curses and feel the motivations behind this evil. Find yourself a Lykata marked, protect them, and let them walk through your world and tell you what they see. Let them track down the source so that you know what you can do to stop it. But most of all, you need a united front. I can only imagine how you have all suffered, and how fractured things might have become, from before when all was well.
Work together, not just to survive, but to strengthen the bonds that are an anathema to this magic. Become the opposite of who the bastard is and, perhaps, with the help of your own divines you can kick this back into the ocean and live as free people once again.
This is probably the only time, outside of my own family, that I’ve even partially told people what to do. I prefer people to live their own lives and do as they wish. I don’t generally like to take responsibility for others, an irony given how I’ve been told I take too much for myself. But over half the season has passed and I have slowly been losing the thing that matters to me most…so I feel I have no choice. If we ever meet, please know that I do this as I see no other choice.
"And get a damned move on it, please…I want to remember again, and I would like to come see Syka one day. I never was one for dreams, but I was given one recently, and now I’m fighting for it the only way that I can. I wish that I could stand beside you in this fight…but I can’t. I have done all that I can…the rest is up to you.
May the odds be ever in your favour, and Eyris grant you the wisdom to see through the veil. "
"Good Luck,
Alric
Son of Serana & Kalas"
"P.S. for Tazrae - I mean it Tazrae, if they demand to know before they will listen, you tell them everything about me. I’d rather lose my anonymity than lose you. And they found me once already anyway, so what’s the point now? When the curse breaks, as I’m sure it will, come and see me.
P.P.S for Oralie – There is a courage in you that you have yet to realise, perhaps. The shadow exists because of the light you possess within. I thought upon your curse a bit more as I know you, I think it is supposed to be a mockery of Priskil’s affection…you are stronger than it by far. Use her light to rise above, and carry the light for others in their time of need
P.P.P.S for Shiress – I have healed well from the fights. Lys healed ages ago from the bite, and is back to haranguing me. I may require healing again one day, but for now we are fine. You have a gift for healing. Now, I offer the chance for healing to you"
When the letter had been read in full, Cleon awkwardly bowed to the assembled people and promptly departed stage right where he practically ran for the booze as he heard James take his place behind him.
“Now, not all at once, we’ll do this in an orderly fashion as this has given us all a lot to think about. Raise your hand if you wish to speak at this time.” James said behind him, but Cleon was no longer listening to much of anything now, and he had eyes only for the mug that was in his hands now. It was blue, sweet with a slice of mango protruding from the top. The perfect beverage for the perfect view this self ascribed loner was currently enjoying of watching the everything unfold.
Namely the three shapely backs of women with decidedly different tastes in dress. There was Juli in the middle who was wearing a loose isuas skirt that fell at an angle down the back of her legs, while up top he could only see the simple strap of a bikini. To her right there was Indigo who still managed to give him a good view even while wearing more, as she was clad in a pair of thick trousers, boots, and a long sleeve blouse. Like many of the times he had seen her of late, she seemed to have all her possessions near at hand as Cleon distantly recalled she was prone to getting lost due to her particular curse.
Finally on the left there was Dawn who unlike the other two could not wear the clothes he was familiar seeing on her, and instead wore an over sized linen shirt that had slipped half way down her right shoulder, and a colorful linen skirt that went almost to her calf. Recalling that she had a problem with Isuas he still found himself a bit curious as to why she hadn’t altered already these clothes but then again, who was he to judge on such decisions. Perhaps she like he was hoping for a quick solution to all of their ills, and thus felt like altering these garments would somehow make it all the more real.
Cleon frowned at the though, and took another drink. It wasn’t like him to look so deeply into things, but it was better then letting his mind tarry on what had just transpired. Speaking of distractions, he realized quickly when Indigo noticed his leering because suddenly he was ducking out the way of a thrown rock, spilling his drink all over himself in the process. Juli didn’t turn around, but Dawn made an uncomfortable observation before turning back towards the gathering leaving only Indigo glaring at him. Having been down this road already once before, Cleon hesitantly walked over, picking up the rock along the way and then when he was just a few paces shy of her, placed the rock gingerly in her hand.
When he looked up. Well.. She. Was. Fuming. Her nostrils were flaring as she gave him a wild eyed stare and simply pointed at a spot away from the gathering where there would be a reasonable amount of privacy. Looking over at that spot, then back at her, and back at the spot again, Cleon reluctantly nodded, and started to walk over, grabbing a drink before he did so.
He managed to get a few gulps in before they got over to the spot, and Indigo slapped the mug out of his hand. Then in one smooth motion she pushed him, Cleon felt his back slam into the ground, and rolled to dodge the kick that was surely coming. Too slow. Hee felt it glance off the back of his hip, and he winced as he froze, feeling her standing over him although he couldn’t see much more than a thin, flickering shadow.
“What have I told you about perving on me? Have you already forgotten what I said I do the next time I caught you?” She growled, and with the edge of her foot, rolled him over. Cleon didn’t resist, rolling over with the momentum and finding himself in the uncomfortable position of looking up at Indigo towering over him. It was kind of hot if not for the fact that he was about to get pummeled.
Cleon flinched and held his arms crosswise in front of himself as he prepared for blows that were to come. One chime. Two. He opened his eyes and Indigo was still there but she hadn’t moved an inch. Instead, when their eyes met she dropped down to crouch over him, and while looking him dead in the eye stripped off his belt pouch and started rifling through it.
“I’ll let it go this time, but I’m taking something in return for sparing your face.” Indigo said tersely as she took both pouches of his pipe weed, and his pipe before throwing the bag on his chest. She stood up then, and after stowing the objects seemed to think for a long moment before a smile to her lips. A smile that scared him more than a little bit. Before he could even register what was happening, she pulled off his trousers and then turned to go jogging back to the gathering, folding them as she went.
For a long, long while, Cleon laid there stunned as he tried to comprehend the scene, and ended up just shaking his head as he started to feel a little angry, then a lot at just how petched up this all was. If she wanted to play that game, he could play that game. He thought petulantly as he stripped off his shirt and undergarments before stomping back towards the gathering to get a drink at one of the tables.
WC - 2,597
