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Fiction – Love is War 03:00:02:02

Every week, we’re going to post some new fiction for you to devour and read, with original art as a header, and then a collected version for purchase from our store when the book is complete. Questions? Comments? The writers are right here, and they’ll respond as they’re able. 

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Click here to read previous entry.

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– 03:00:02:02 –

There was so very much to learn.

Sotaas Ygg was one of the greatest minds of his House, a friendly quiet sort who got on well with everyone. His House had given the Vanir nation their greatest trackers and scouts, a powerful need for motion driven into all those that could claim their blood. Sotaas had been gifted with a wanderlust of the soul that matched his drive to explore the physical world and he spent as much time reading and theorizing as he did mapping out the wild places of Midgard and settling the occasional Coeecian incursion.

House Ygg had always been close to House Wynn and, in fact, Sotaas had grown up acting as the personal scout for the soon-to-be Njord, Deeam. It was that connection that brought him to Wynn’s capital and to the chambers of his friend. Deeam rose with a smile when he was announced, foregoing whatever other conversations held him to clasp Sotaas’ wrist. Sotaas did likewise; there had never been a need for formal greetings between the two of them.

“My friend, my friend, I have need of you,” Deeam said. Sotaas smiled and rocked on his heels because, really, his friend had only to ask and Sotaas would do all he could to help.

“What do you need found?”

“An idea.” Deeam smiled, wrapped an arm around Sotaas’ shoulder and led him out into the dark. “There is an upcoming ball that I will ask you to attend in formal wear. I know you despise it, but I need you to meet someone.”

“Who?”

“Her name is Veskur Wyrd,” Deeam grinned. “You may have heard of her.”

“In passing,” Sotaas admitted. “Some distant hermetic noble. Has a connection with that noble from Jera everyone’s been talking about, the one with the deathwish.”

“Figo?”

“That’s the one.”

“What it I told you that Veskur was responsible for Figo’s successes?” Deeam asked. “That Veskur has invented a new science that has allowed Figo to claim victory after victory?”

“Well, first I’d ask if you were telling fables, but you wouldn’t have brought me here if this was some sort of passing fancy,” Sotaas looked out into the wilds. “Is this a high Science or a low science?”

“The former, I believe, though there is so little any of us know.”

“And why do we know so little?”

“Veskur Wyrd keeps it to herself.” Deeam paused, looking north and into the dark. “Her reasons are her own, certanly, but her reasons pale before the need we have of her secrets. Her discovery is clearly something that must be shared. Right now the only two people that are using her invention are Figo and Veskur herself, but think about the applications of such a tool – if those two alone are able to win so much, imagine the glory that could be claimed if all our nation possessed that knowledge.”

“I understand,” Sotaas said. “What would you like me to do about it? Speak with her? Steal her notes? Copy her designs?”

“All of those things have been tried,” Deeam shook his head. “I could show you the copies of her work that I already possess, repeat the information that she herself has given me. She’s mad, you see, completely and utterly mad, and Figo does not understand how she did what she did. I can’t make sense of her tales and neither can our best scholars.”

“Not even River Megru?” Sotaas’ tone hid nothing of his contempt for the man.

“Not even River has had any luck.” Deeam smiled and shook his head, the two of them standing on a balcony and looking down at the world below. “The world is changing. The world is constantly changing. The dominant nations long ago were far to the east, but now there are only us and the Darroken to uphold civilization. The Coeecians are a constant threat from the south and west and the Zaaerm in the north cannot be trusted. We need whatever Science Veskur has if we are to survive.”

“Alright,” Sotaas sighed. “What do you want me to do?”

“Talk to her,” Deeam said. “Get to know her. Map out the country of her mind the way your kin map the lines of Midgard itself. Define the boundaries and mountains of her Science and translate her madness into something understandable.”

“Is that all?” Sotaas asked, rolling his eyes. Deeam just smiled and let him go.

He went to the rooms that Deeam always set aside for him, washed the grime of the road from his skin and put on the formal wear that had been laid out for him. Short hair was spiked up, eyes hidden behind tinted glass, hands covered in gloves, his levl and a dryw resting at his hips. He studied himself in a mirror and grimaced; he would rather walk through the uncharted wilds than navigate the perils of court politics.

Still, when the time came he went and joined the ball.

A good collection of nobles had come. Not Figo or any of the predominantly military nobles, as all of them were on the frontlines of the latest Coeecian incursion. The Nauthiz Coven were there, the three of them as different from one another as they were from everyone else, yet still tightly knit, still ruling the world around them with their sheer force of presence. There was a man from Ansu that Sotaas had met but could not remember the name of, a couple from Fehu that he had never cared for. He scanned the mass of people, looking for the individual Deeam had put him upon.

She was standing off to one side, thrown over a chair haphazardly, a drink in one hand. Her formal clothing was a mess, her hair a tangle, but her eyes shone with a shy amusement. When Sotaas began moving towards her she noticed immediately but took no action, not running nor rising to greet him. She just sat there, waiting.

“Hello,” Sotaas said, and introduced himself. The other woman introduced herself as the Lady Wyrd and gave Sotaas leave to sit beside her before lapsing into a quiet that he found oddly comfortable. There was a strange sense of peace to be found in sitting beside this stranger, a feeling that he had known this person all his life and was only now remembering an old friend after a long absence.

Fiction – Love is War 03-00-02-01

“Any reason you’re here?” the Lady Wyrd asked.

“Deeam asked me to show up,” Sotaas admitted. The woman nodded, accepting this, her eyes brushing over the crowd. “How about you?”

“The same, actually.” She paused to sip at her drink, dipping her ungloved finger in the liquid and stirring. “I’d rather be at home, working, but my family seemed to think me coming here was a good idea.”

“You have other thoughts on this?”

“Clearly.”

The two of them fell into quiet again and Sotaas got the impression that the Lady Wyrd was not used to speaking with others, that she just let conversation ebb and flow as it willed instead of taking control of it. He wondered what would happen if the Lady was pressed and decided not to find out; he needed the Lady comfortable and pliant.

“What’re you working on back home?” Sotaas asked, keeping his tone polite.

“A little of this, a little of that,” the Lady answered, her posture turning reluctant. When Sotaas asked her to continue she blushed and looked away. “I’m told that I lose people when I talk about the stuff I work on. It’s pretty esoteric. Are you sure you want to know?” Sotaas said that he did.

The conversation wore on. Sotaas understood most of it and asked questions when he didn’t, getting answers until everything Veskur said made sense. He ended up being invited to the Lady’s keep up north, Veskur liking him due to his questions – she said that they made her think and consider things she wouldn’t have otherwise. Besides, the commentary Sotaas added furthered Veskur’s ideas in directions she would not have traveled otherwise.

Sotaas found herself liking Veskur, her shy earnestness and confident madness.

“What did you learn?” Deeam asked later, the two of them alone and sipping at some fine Fehu honey-wines.

“Much,” Sotaas answered. He smiled, running his finger along the stem of his glass. “You’re right, of course. She’s utterly mad, but very comfortable in her madness.”

“You sound like you enjoyed her company.”

“I did. There’s a lot to like there.”

“As you say.” Deeam paused, sat in a chair and sighed, ran his hands through his hair. “Be careful. Her madness may seem stable, but it is still madness and not to be trusted, never to be trusted. Especially when she holds a power as great as she does.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Be sure that you do.”

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