Chapter 367: A Mother’s Secret

 

  Plum searched for Tauri amidst the dozens of log houses sprawled throughout the village. She was surprised to find several tents lined against one of the walls. Stryg had once told her how the young lived in shared tents until they were old enough for their own tent, or if they were worthy, they could earn themselves their own log house. 

  Plum grumbled under her breath in disappointment.

  Even here, deep in Vulture Woods, far from ‘polite society,’ the disparity between classes seemed clear.

  After several minutes of searching in the dark Plum spotted Tauri sitting cross-legged, next to the well, meditating.

  Plum ran over to her excitedly, “Tauri! There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you!” 

  The beautiful orc cracked a single eye open, “What do you want…?”

  “I need to talk to you about Stryg, it’s rather important.”

  “Not this again. I told you I’m not interested in whatever that goblin does, especially whom he dances with.”

  “Ugh, this isn’t about you two! You can sulk over your romantic problems later.”

  “I don’t have romantic problems. And I am still a Katag, show some respect,” she snapped.

  “Since when have you cared about etiquette? You never even wanted us to call you professor.” Plum shook her head, “Look, none of that matters right now. Second Mother told me a secret about Stryg’s past, but it doesn’t line up with what Stryg’s told me before.”

  Tauri opened both her eyes and sighed heavily, “...I’m listening.”

 

~~~

 

  The drums and voices of the tribe’s songstresses echoed through the chill night air. The silhouettes of the dancers shifted through in and out from the shadows, the light of the bonfires reflecting off their yellow eyes.

  Stryg saw them all, his sight piercing through the darkness as if they were under the bright sun on a clear afternoon. But his eyes wandered to the woman dancing in front of him, her curves moving in an almost hypnotizing manner. 

  Srixa caught him staring and smirked, “What’s the matter?”

  Stryg cleared his throat, “Nothing, it’s just… you’re a good dancer.”

  She leaned towards him on her tiptoes and whispered into his ear, “For someone who doesn’t dance very much, you’re not half-bad yourself.”

  Stryg could feel her warm cheek on his, and he couldn’t but be intimately aware of her soft body pressed against his own. He swallowed, “Well, I’ve had some practice since I left.”

  “Is that right?” She leaned back enough that their faces were a mere inch from one another. Srixa smiled, “Have you had practice with anything else since you left?”

  Stryg blinked. “Huh?”

  “We never got a chance to have a proper challenge, you and I. You were too scared to challenge me.”

  “That’s because I’ve seen what you do to the men who challenge you,” he said dryly. “They always end up bruised and bloodied. I’m not an oracle, but I’m guessing you wouldn’t have left me much better off.”

  “Mm, probably. But what about now?” Srixa kissed him lightly and leaned back. “Are you going to run away?” She licked her lips, “Or are you going to fight?”

  Stryg smirked, “I already beat you in hand-to-hand combat. What makes you think I’m going to back down now?”

  “Ooh, a cocky Stryg, that’s something new,” Srixa whispered in a sultry voice. “I look forward to breaking that confidence.”

  “We’ll see who breaks whom.”

  “~Excuse me~” Plum suddenly appeared and stepped between them.

  Srixa raised her eyebrow, “And who are you exactly?”

  “I’m Plumela, friend, and confidante of this dumbass, and wow, you’re pretty. What’s your name again?”

  “…Srixa, daughter of Blood Fang, huntress of—”

  “—Wonderful, I’m sure there are plenty of people who would love to dance with you right about now. So, if you’ll excuse us, Stryg and I have some rather urgent business to discuss.”

  “Ahem, Plum,” Stryg whispered, “You’re kinda ruining this moment for me.”

  “Yeah, no, I bet,” she said casually. 

  Stryg frowned, “Plum, what’s this about—?”

  Plum grabbed him by his sleeve and glanced at Srixa, “Nice to meetcha, Miss Beautiful. Buh-bye.” She turned around and hauled Stryg away without another glance.

  Srixa smiled wryly, “Running away again, hm, Stryg?”

  Stryg looked back at Srixa and mouthed silently, “I’ll find you later.”

  She chuckled to herself and bared her teeth in a malicious grin.

  Stryg turned to Plum who still hadn’t let him go, “Where are we going?”

  “To get answers.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “That’s what we’re going to find out.”

  Stryg sighed to himself, “Tell me there’s a good reason for dragging me away from living out one of my fantasies.”

  “It’s more important than bedding your childhood bully, I can tell you that much. Which is a super weird fantasy, by the way.”

  “She wasn’t my bully, Srixa was more of everyone’s bully. Leader of the pack you could say. Our generation respected her because she was strong… and because she would beat up the ones who didn’t.”

  “And you still want to bed her?” Plum asked in disbelief. “I mean, has no one ever told you not to fuck crazy?”

  “Huh?”

  “...Oh, right. I should have given Feli that advice.”

  Stryg narrowed his lilac eyes, “You’re making fun of me, aren’t you?”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it,” Plum said lightly. She led Stryg through one of the empty dirt paths until they reached a dark corner of the village, far from the bonfires and the watchful eyes of the villagers.

  Tauri leaned against one of the log houses’ walls, waiting for them in brooding silence. The whole area was dark, save for the moon casting a pale light over Stryg’s white hair, giving it a silver sheen.

  “Tauri? What are you doing here?” Stryg asked.

  Tauri glanced at Plum and nodded. “Tell him,” she said with a slight edge to her tone.

  “Stryg…” Plum paused and took a deep breath, “I’ve known you for a long time, we both have. You used to tell me about your days in Vulture Woods, how you grew up in the Blood Fang tribe.”

  “Okay, and…?”

  Tauri groaned impatiently, “What Plum is trying to say is that as fun as the little party those goblins are having over there seems, neither of us has forgotten that they were just trying to kill us an hour ago. Plum is a drow, an outsider in every way. And I’m an orc. Any goblin in this whole damn forest would be happy to see my head mounted on a spike. We’re in danger just being here. We need to know if we can trust you—”

  “—Of course, you can trust me. What sort of question is that?” Stryg glared at them.

  “Completely. We need to know if we can trust you completely. Which means no more lies,” Tauri finished.

  “When have I ever lied to you?”

  Tauri crossed her arms, “You’re a prime mage, aren’t you? Except you told everyone you weren’t for three years.”

  “That’s… hm. Point taken.”

  “Stryg, we came to this village for you,” Plum said. “…I thought you needed some closure from the people that hurt you. But, maybe there is more to this than that. Second Mother told me things… Look, I need you to tell me the truth, Stryg.”

  Stryg sighed, “What do you want to know?”

  “…What happened to the four Mothers before First and Second?” Plum whispered intently.

  Stryg laughed, “What? That’s what this is about? I thought you two wanted to know why I didn’t kill Srixa in the duel or something.”

  “I’d like to know about that,” Tauri said.

  “Stryg… what happened to those Mothers?” Plum asked quietly.

  “I don’t know,” he shrugged. “They died.”

  “How?” Plum pressed.

  “The usual, I suppose. I was kind of young, but I remember one drowned in the river nearby. One fell ill and died a few days later. Another died in her sleep from old age. And the last one joined the hunters on a scouting trip and got killed by a lynx hiding in the trees.”

  Plum and Tauri shared a worried glance.

  “You don’t find that strange? A Mother going out on a scouting trip? I thought you said they usually don’t leave the village, especially if it isn’t safe,” Plum said.

  “Yeah, I guess,” Stryg scratched his cheek. “Who knows why she went.”

  “Stryg, the Mothers didn’t die like that. Second Mother told me a different story.”

  “Different how?”

  “She said they were all brutally murdered,” Plum said.

  Stryg wrinkled his brow, “What? No, that can’t be. I would have remembered a Mother being murdered, let alone four of them.”

  Plum narrowed her blue eyes and stared at him, her expression indiscernible. “...I believe him,” she sighed at last.

  “So Second Mother lied then?” Tauri asked.

  Plum stepped back, “...No, I think she was telling the truth too.”

  “I’ve never known Second Mother to be a liar, but she obviously lied to you,” Stryg said. “It can’t be helped I suppose, she sees you as an outsider. Maybe she was trying to confuse you?”

  “Why would she do that?” Plum asked.

  “I don’t know,” he admitted.

  Plum shook her head, “No, I don’t think she was lying. You told me before that Sylvan folk aren’t the type of people to resort to deception or betrayal to solve their problems, that’s the dishonorable coward’s path. What kind of Mother would do that?”

  “You’re right,” Stryg said slowly. “Then why?”

  “I don’t know. When Second Mother was talking to me she looked… worried, scared even. I think she was telling me the truth.”

  “There can’t be two truths,” Tauri said.

  “You’re right. Which means someone is wrong, even if they don’t believe they are,” Plum said. “Someone’s memories are wrong.”

  “You mean they’ve been tampered with?” Tauri’s eyes widened. “But can a purple mage even replace memories with that level of detail?”

  Plum bit her bottom lip in consternation, “No, not really. We can at best tamper with someone’s memories to make them forget a small single event and even then they’ll remember after a few days; if the purple mage is very powerful then perhaps a few months at best. We can read the mind, hurt it, and even break it, but we can’t create entirely new memories. The sheer complexity of creating a single memory let alone several is unfathomable.”

  “So where does that leave us?” Stryg asked.

  “Only one way to find out,” Plum said. She raised her hand, tendrils of purple light curled around her fingers. “I know I’m asking for a lot, but would it be okay if I searched through some of your memories? I’d only take a glance at them, it would be enough to tell if they were tampered with.”

  Stryg frowned, “Yeah, no thanks. I didn’t even let Professor Vayu search through my mind during our training. I don’t want anyone messing with my head.”

  “You know I would never try to mess with your brain,” Plum said. “If you want, you can read my mind afterwards. Search whatever memories of mine you need, make sure I didn’t tamper with your own mind.”

  “…Even still.”

  “Stryg… Second Mother said there’s never been a hunter called Sigte. She said Sigte is a blood rite, a forbidden ritual. Do you know anything about that?” Plum asked.

  Stryg’s expression froze, “What?” He suddenly winced and held his head between his hands. A faint memory teased the edge of his mind, but he couldn’t grasp it no matter how hard he tried.

  “Stryg! Are you okay!?” Tauri ran up to him and held him up by the shoulders.

  “I’m fine, it’s just, I don’t know…” he frowned.

  “This is why we can’t change people's memories,” Plum said grimly. “The mind usually reacts violently when it tries to reconcile the truth with the false.”

  Stryg gasped with shallow painful breaths and looked at Plum worriedly, “Do it. Search my memories. If someone messed with my head I want to know who it was.”

  Plum nodded silently and placed her hand on his forehead. She closed her eyes and the purple tendrils flared brightly. She furrowed her brow as she focused on the spell. Sweat began dripping from her brow and her hand shook with strain. After a minute she gasped and stumbled back.

  “Plum, what did you see?” Stryg asked warily.

  She sucked in deep breaths and rested her hands on her knees. “...Nothing. I didn’t see anything. I tried my best, but I couldn’t even touch the surface of your mind. It’s almost as if you're immune to mind magic.”

  “Just like Lysaila,” Tauri’s eyes widened in realization.

  “What?” Plum asked.

  “When we first captured Lysaila Vayu tried to read her mind but he couldn’t,” Tauri recalled. “Something about lamias being immune to mind spells. It’s one of the reasons they’re considered one of the most deadly of all beastkin.”

  Plum glanced at Stryg curiously, “You do have a strange relationship with the lamias.”

  “Strange is putting it mildly,” Stryg muttered. He stepped back from his friends, careful to not move his head too much. “I feel like I have the worst hangover of my life.”

  “Are you going to be alright?” Tauri asked.

  “Yeah. …I think I’m just gonna lie down and call it a night,” Stryg winced.

  “Right, yeah, of course. I’m sorry about all of this. I just needed to make sure everything was okay,” Plum said apologetically.

  “Congratulations, it turns out it's not,” Stryg groaned in pain. “I’ll see you guys back at the cabin.”

  Plum sighed as she watched Stryg stumble away. “I feel like I just ruined my friend’s night for no reason.”

  Tauri patted her back, “Well, I wouldn’t say no reason.”

 

~~~

 

  In the late hours of the night after the bonfires had died out, the Blood Fang village slept peacefully, save for the few guards patrolling the wall. In a small cabin near the edge of the village slept three visitors. Plum and Tauri shared a room and both slept on fur rolls. It wasn’t much more comfortable than how they had been sleeping out in the forest, but at the very least it was warm in the confines of the cabin.

  The two of them had promised to take turns keeping watch, but as Plum’s turn came around she found her eyes heavy from a long journey and before she realized it she had dozed off.

  An hour later, a cloaked figure slipped into the cabin through a small window, and silently tiptoed their way past Plum and Tauri’s door. The figure slowly pushed the second door open and snuck into the room. Stryg slept unperturbed on the floor. The intruder glanced around for any threats before she settled her eyes on the blue goblin.

  His limbs were spread about in awkward angles and he had thrown the fur blanket aside at some point, though the cold didn’t seem to bother him. Nameless was strapped to his belt and hung loosely across his waist, while the relic sword lay on the floor a few inches from his grasp. It seemed as if he had fallen asleep with it in his hand, no doubt trying to keep guard over his friends, she guessed. 

  The intruder tiptoed closer until she was standing over Stryg’s prone body, watching him in silence as his chest rose with rough breaths. Beads of sweat coated his blue skin and he grimaced every few moments.

  He’s having a nightmare, she thought.

  First Mother pulled down her hood and glanced at Stryg one more time to make sure he was still asleep before she knelt over him and stretched out her hand towards his unsuspecting neck. Her sharp claws carefully traced over his skin and her fingers settled over his cheek with a soft touch. She gently brushed the white locks off his face and studied his features. She stayed there for a long while, simply watching him. 

  Stryg muttered something incoherent in his sleep and turned on his side. First scoffed silently with a small begrudging smirk. She grabbed the fur blanket and wrapped it over him. Then she stood up to leave, but paused and glanced at the relic sword lying on the ground, now far from his grasp.

  First Mother knelt, grabbed the steel-white hilt, and looked over the dull chipped blade for a moment, before placing it next to Stryg’s hand. She took one last look at his face then left the cabin as quietly as she had entered.

  With nimble grace, she jumped out the window and landed on the grass outside.

  “Good evening,” a voice called out from the dark.

  First stiffened and spun around. She recognized the silhouette and sighed. “What are you doing here, little brother?” She didn’t bother waiting for an answer and simply walked away.

  The chieftain fell in next to her and smiled knowingly, “I’m happy for you.”

  “Spare me your useless words, Jahn.”

  “Sorry, I can’t help it.” His smile widened, “After three long years of uncertainty and your endless worrying, it turns out your son is alive and well.”

  “Be quiet or I’ll bite that silly grin off your face,” she hissed at him, her small fangs glinting in the moonlight.

  Jahn chuckled and held his hands up in surrender, “Fine, you win.”

  She growled and clicked her tongue, “Stryg should have gutted you when he had the chance.”

  “In my defense, at the time I thought Stryg taking my life and my place as chieftain would have been for the good of the tribe and our family. But don’t get me wrong, I’m quite happy to be alive,” he winked.

  “Keep talking and you won’t be for very long.”

  Jahn stepped back and bowed with a flourish, “And with that, I’ll bid you a goodnight, sister. Starting tomorrow, things will be quite interesting, don’t you think?” This time he didn’t bother to wait for an answer and simply walked away, whistling a happy tune into the night.

  “Someday I’m going to break that idiot’s legs,” First muttered.