To Warmer Plains, Chapter 2

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Ghost Town, Edda

Given that it was the closest major settlement to Denandsor, it came as no surprise to Kit that most of Edda's population did not count itself amongst the living.

Kit and Black Ice Shadow traversed the horizon's highest hilltop, bringing them into view of Edda, a thatchwork hamlet nestled snuggly in the swamp that had formed as a result of runoff from the surrounding hills. As they descended, the ground grew soft beneath their feet, and it became difficult to distinguish soil from grass. The whispered winds of grassland nights fell victim to the chorus of one thousand some odd crickets chirping into the emptiness above and around them. When they grew closer to a log bridge that had been erected at the point where the terrain became too soft to tread upon, Kit stayed a considerable distance behind Black Ice Shadow. Being that he was dressed as though he were heading to do battle at a funeral, she reasoned that of the two of them, he was better equipped to handle their introduction to Edda's ghostly majority.

Though she'd known in her mind what to expect, no amount of literature could have prepared her for the sight of Edda. She grew close enough to witness its happenings for herself, and nearly stopped dead in her tracks. Ghosts carried about their business freely, moving across wide wooden roads built between structures that rose from the swamp. They were quiet, ethereal creatures; Kit thought that in their mannerisms, they carried a hint of contentedness. Just as she was beginning to appreciate the hushed, intense beauty of the ghost town, Black Ice Shadow, who was crossing the bridge, shot Kit a glance over his right shoulder.

"Madame, if you could, we will be better received if it is apparent we are traveling together."

He spoke with the same quiet civility Kit had grown used to and, in a sense, even appreciate. She hastened her walk, catching up to him on the bridge. An old man sat at the far edge of the bridge, a fishing rod in his hands cast lazily into the swamp. He was one of the town's few mortals, and seemed to carry a knowing sadness behind his gaze that the town's ghosts did not. While Kit's ponderous mind debated the burden of life and the ennui of death, Black Ice Shadow broke the melodious silence, bowing slightly as he spoke.

"Sir, I must apologize for encroaching upon your leisure. My friend and I are travelers from anorth; we are passing through and hope for a place to seek refuge from the terrors of the wild while I establish contact with other companions of mine. Might you know of a place in Edda we'd be welcomed to stay?"

The old man, hazy in his age, blinked away the glaze from his eyes and looked sleepily to Black Ice Shadow. Kit thought he seemed as taken aback as she was at the considerable mismatch of the Sidereal's garb to his tone.

"Er... Well, you might have a spot of luck at the pub, but we don't get many travelers in these parts..." he replied.

Black Ice Shadow nodded his gratitude before speaking it. "Thank you."

He was curt in his reply as he stepped past the old man, beckoning with his right hand for Kit to follow suit. Kit walked past the old man, too shy and awed to speak with him, but nodded her head in appreciation of the information he'd shared with them.

The pair advanced into the center of town. It's central square was a large platform raised from the swamp and built of thick, though rotting cedar. Its easternmost side was occupied by a town hall, Edda's largest building by Kit's estimation. The central square's southern face also housed a few more buildings which seemed suited loosely to bureaucratic affairs, though a rather dilapidated tavern stood at its western corner. The pair quickly crossed the square and Black Ice Shadow purposefully pressed open the pub's rotten door. Before they'd fully entered, they were greeted by the aroma of wet wood and vegetation. Though Kit, having spent most of her life in the wilderness, was no stranger to nature's less pleasant aromas, she'd not yet fully placed her stock in this establishment as a safe asylum. The tavern was largely empty, though it did not seem to be without its patrons. The bartender was a ghost, though two of its six or so patrons still carried warmth in their blood.

Black Ice Shadow approached the bartender with his usual brevity, inquiring about sleeping accommodations for the evening. Kit, having stayed back somewhat, could not discern their exact dialog, but assumed the encounter had gone well when her companion left a small portion of silver for the barkeep. He returned to Kit, nodding as he spoke.

"We'll be able to sleep here for the night."

The two of them spent a moment straightening their belongings, at which point Black Ice Shadow's tone shifted slightly, gaining an edge to it that Kit found a bit discomforting. He bade Kit to make her way to their room and see to it that it was fit for their housing, and to unpack their belongings. Still ripe as an Exalt and teeming with newfound power, a part of her resented being relegated to such a juvenile task, though the concern in her guardian's voice silenced any inklings of rebellion she'd entertained.

==

The rackety tavern was almost taller than it was wide. The first floor consisted largely of the bar and its seating, though a few odd tables scattered the cramped floor, and a pair of booths crowded the two corners farthest from the bar. Black Ice Shadow slid quietly into one, eyeing in particular one of a few lowly patrons. The man was a downtrodden, older Southeasterner, and he wore a perpetual sneer on his face. Much of the top of his head was covered by a ratty, red bandanna, though what wasn't allowed matted brown hair to poke its way through weaknesses in the fabric barrier. He was a fairly despicable sight, though his worn expression, scarred arms, and sheathed blade alerted Black Ice Shadow that he was not merely a haunted mortal victim of Edda's proximity to the world of the dead. Black Ice Shadow's interest in the man was vague at this point; he'd been eyeing Kit off and on since they'd arrived, and had switched tables to move closer to the bar during Black Ice Shadow's conversation with the bartender. Just a pervert, perhaps, but his believability in that role made him all the better a candidate to tail the two of them; ironically, his degenerate appearance made him seem more innocuous as an intent observer. Still, Black Ice Shadow deemed him worth investigating.

Not wasting any time, Black Ice Shadow shot a glance to the stairs to ensure that Kit had made her way to their room, and then strode steadily to the table at which the intent observer was seated. Calmly, he pulled out a chair and sat down across from the man.

"Are you from around here?"

Black Ice Shadow's direct approach had taken the man by surprise. He began to sweat almost immediately. The Sidereal didn't move a muscle, though the hand of the man watching them began to inch toward his dagger.

"Yeah... What of it?"

The man did his best to be intimidating, but that was a futile exercise seated across from the Black Ice Shadow. His cowl concealed his expression entirely; white eyes, devoid of pupils, glared coldly at the man. His armor glistened with spikes of soulsteel and starmetal, catching moonlight coming in through the window at odd intervals.

"I don't believe you. That's not my concern, however. What has you so interested in our conversation?"

The man was sweating even more profusely now, and had not counted on Black Ice Shadow catching onto him so quickly. He fumbled for words.

"I-I.. The girl you're with... she's pretty - that's all..."

"I think you're a little old for her."

At this point, the pair was beginning to draw the attention of some nearby patrons, who had turned their ghastly gazes in their direction. Black Ice Shadow cast a brief glance downward, and noted that the man's boots were standard military issue in Thorns. That was almost too obvious, and he wondered if perhaps this wasn't part of a larger ruse. The man knew of their location, and of course, would have to be killed. Still, Black Ice Shadow decided he'd string the conversation along a bit further in the hope that the man might unintentionally reveal deeper details of the mission he was undoubtedly a part of.

"Let me make something perfectly clear. You may abandon any notions about your ruse being a successful one - I've seen through whatever lies you intended to tell me. This is the end of the road for you. Sometime within the next ten minutes, you will die. In the meantime, we have a few things to discuss."

The man, beginning to lose his cool, snatched the hilt of his dagger and began to stand up. Black Ice Shadow quickly halted him.

"Don't move. That's a fine dagger; may I see it?" Black Ice Shadow silently channeled a few motes of essence into the words behind his request. The draw in this area was comfortable, a healthy mix of energy from both worlds. He recalled his training in the shadowlands.

The man found himself strangely compelled to oblige, and drew the dagger slowly and surrendered it to Black Ice Shadow, handle first. As Black Ice Shadow suspected, the dagger was standard military issue in Thorns. He was suspicious of this, as it was almost too obvious a lead. He continued, with no variation in his tone.

"You're from Thorns. I'm interested to know how you knew I'd be here."

The man shifted uncomfortably in his chair while the Sidereal stared him down. Growing impatient, though never showing it, Black Ice Shadow decided to offer up some motivation.

"Being from Thorns, you should know this - if you don't talk, your ghost will. I can see to it that you pass into the reincarnation cycle if extracting the information from your ghost isn't necessary. Otherwise - well, I shudder to think what horrors your masters would exact upon your ghost if I returned it to Thorns having divulged such information."

Finally, the rag of a man spoke up, "I- I really don't know much..."

Black Ice Shadow listened expectantly, lying the man's knife back down on the table's surface gently, as though daring him to snatch it. Eventually, his silent stare unnerved the man enough to prompt further dialogue. The man seemed to be beginning to resign himself to his fate.

"... I'm a scout. My commander ordered me to Edda to search for a young girl..."

Black Ice Shadow interjected casually, but mockingly, "Not many of those in Edda."

The man was a bit startled by the interruption, but continued, "I swear, I don't know... I don't know how my unit knew you'd be here, or why the timing was just right... "

"Who is your commander?" Black Ice Shadow corrected himself before even giving the man a chance to answer - He knew the man probably wasn't lying; the Mask of Winters treated all information as being on a need-to-know basis. In all likelihood, only the Thornian legion's deathknight general would truly know. The matter was somewhat irrelevant, though even Black Ice Shadow was surprised at how quickly Thorns had picked up his trail. He re-phrased his question in an instant.

"No, forget that. Who commands your legion?" The man saw his first glance of Black Ice Shadow's temper - his gravely voice lowered in pitch and escalated in volume as he slammed his right fist on the table. Although the man had doubtless born witness to unspeakable horrors in his service to Thorns, nothing quite matched the intensity behind the Sidereal's gaze.

Too frightened to attempt obfuscation, he sputtered an answer, "The... Seven Seasons Widow..."

Black Ice Shadow paused. That was the answer he was expecting, but not the one he was hoping for. She was a powerful figure in the Thorns administration, near the top of the Deathlord's massive espionage operation. Her spies were innumerable and steadfastly loyal, not to mention competent. This lowly footsoldier, in particular, was most likely a ruse or bait, and Black Ice Shadow knew it. Before he replied, he took a survey of the tavern's ghostly patrons, committing each of them firmly to his memory. It seemed more likely that one, or all of them, were the real trackers, reporting feedback to the Seven Seasons Widow - whether they knew it or not. Despite this man's unwitting involvement in such a nefarious plot, Black Ice Shadow couldn't take chances.

"Let's go outside." Black Ice Shadow stood calmly, peering over his cowl at the scout.

The scout from Thorns began to sweat, his trembling hand reaching for the dagger, though with more hesitance than he'd expected of himself. The reality of the situation got the better of him, and as the Sidereal watched calmly, the shaking hand snatched the blade, and the man leapt to his feet. The old wooden chair clacked loudly on the petrified floor, the raucous cut off only by the screeching of the table legs as the scout shoved the furniture away from himself. Black Ice Shadow continued watching, bemused, as the man lunged at him, blade held in loosely in a reverse grip.

For his part, the man's approach wasn't bad. Even in his panic, he took a moment to set his stance before pushing off his left leg, right knee bent forward and left hand, holding the blade, drawn back. He'd clearly been in combat before.

Alas, he was no match for one of Heaven's foremost assassins. To Black Ice Shadow, the attack came in slow motion. Hardly even bothering to take a defensive pose, he simply reached out with his right hand and snatched the man's left wrist. Though this was an effortless motion for Black Ice Shadow, the man was left gawking at the Sidereal's blindingly fast interpretation of his attack pattern. As the man's momentum sent him rocketing into Black Ice Shadow's towering form, the Sidereal's left palm was planted softly on the man's chest to stop the two from colliding. Black Ice Shadow spoke calmly.

"Please, don't make a scene. Your bravery is admirable, but ill-placed. You'd do well to turn this ire against the commanders who put you here in your next life. Now, where were we? Ah, yes, outside."

He walked toward the door, still holding onto the man's left wrist. As they left, Black Ice Shadow took another survey of the room, paying particular attention to any eyes watching him leave. He caught several, though given the distraction they'd caused, this was not of great surprise. Black Ice Shadow quickened his pace as the bartender moved to admonish the pair for making a scene, all but dragging the scout out the door by the time they'd reached it. Once outside, Black Ice Shadow whipped the man around in such a fashion as to place the pair facing one another.

The sky was crystal clear, and chirping of crickets in the surrounding bracken enforced the solitude. The moon shone brightly, lighting their encounter.

He had no particular grievance against this man, and so he explained the man's fate as reasonably as he could. The scout looked on with an expression birthed of horror and amazement, hearing his sentence recited to him.

"It's likely that your commanders have bound your ghost up already - Meaning, in essence, that when you die, their magics will ensure your ghostly form returns to them. Having told me what you have, I can comfortably assure you this is not a desirable choice for either of us. I can break this spell, but the conditions of my ritual mandate that I don't damage any of your internal organs - you must pass into the reincarnation cycle intact. Are we on the same page, here?"

Black Ice Shadow's tone never changed - he was as calm as ever, though not sympathetic - an out-of-context listener, having only been made privy to the Saturn's final question, would assume the two were conducting a business deal. In a way, they were. The man, however, had no reply - he only continued staring, wide-eyed. Black Ice Shadow attempted to coax a response out of him.

"That's just as well. We left your knife on the table, anyway. I won't keep us much longer - suffocation is easiest in this matter, but you musn't cry out; our efforts will be in vain, I'm afraid, if the patrons are drawn out of doors to witness my freeing you of your posthumous commitments."

The scout, still silent, couldn't believe what he was hearing. It was at this moment that a spell of lucidity made him aware that the assassin's back was turned to the tavern. That meant, that behind him, there was wildnerness - That tavern had a walkway that led straight north, unobstructed, and off of the swamp. Fear got the better of him, and he immediately carried out a wobbly about-face and started to sprint. Once again, his escape artistry was no match for the Sidereal's reaction speed, and he was grabbed by the back of his shirt, firmly, almost immediately. From behind him, the scout could hear Black Ice Shadow give a tired sigh.

"You can't even die with dignity?"

As the man started to cry out, Black Ice Shadow swiftly pulled him backwards, with enough force to rob him of his footing. As the man fell, the Chosen of Endings flipped him over - as he fell, he was now face down. The Sidereal grabbed him with one hand before he hit the ground, and quickly hoisted him to the swamp's shoreline - meanwhile, the other hand cupped the man's mouth tightly as he murmured frantically underneath it. Though the choice seemed hasty, Black Ice Shadow had carefully chosen the spot - it was a blindspot for all of the tavern's windows. Planting a secure grip on the back of the man's head with the hand he'd previously been using to carry him, he held the man silent until the last possible moment - He quickly withdrew the silencing hand as he pushed the man's head underneath the water, holding it there. Though the man struggled, he simply wasn't strong enough to contend with the Exalt, and Black Ice Shadow remained expressionless throughout the ordeal. He waited patiently as the man thrashed about, giving periodic glances to the tavern's door.

As the man's panicked kicking and grabbing began to slow, Black Ice Shadow stared down at the writhing form, partially submerged beneath the murky swamp waters. For a fleeting moment, Black Ice Shadow wondered what he'd become. Should death not have more meaning? He tried, sincerely, to make himself feel the death. He tried to arouse even an ember of compassion, hateful or sympathetic, but found nothing. Had his familiarity with the Darkness consumed him to such an extent that he could no longer see past it? Just as his concern began to mount, the man fell limp. The job was done, and it was back to business. Black Ice Shadow was thankful.

Black Ice Shadow upheld his end of the bargain - he pushed the man's body fully into the swamp with his foot as he withdrew a small pouch. He closed his eyes, and, as he'd been taught, tugged at the fabric of Creation, trying to find a hole that led to the tenebrous Oblivion beneath it. He found it more quickly than he cared to admit. He folded his free hand into a complicated arrangement of digits and spoke in glossolaliac tongues. Out of the shadows, arcane, profane geometries carved themselves into thin air as the Necromantic effect was shaped. As quickly as it began, however, it was over - when the symbols had fully formed, Black Ice Shadow hurled the pouch's contents - pure salt - through their epicenter, and the powder was spun into a conical serpent, one which surrounded the man's body and promptly melted. His soul had passed into Lethe.

Black Ice Shadow cleaned himself of the swamp's sludge, and returned to the tavern. Upon coming inside, he noticed that one of the faces that had watched him leave was no longer present. He strode to the bartender with a slow pace.

"Bartender, that ghost who was in the corner, over there - " Black Ice Shadow pointed sternly, " - is he a usual patron?"

The bartender, although somewhat desensitized to the concept of dying, was still able to intuit what had taken place outside, though he had not witnessed it. Two men left, one man came back. He could put two and two together staring at a visage like that possessed by the Sidereal. He didn't care to raise the man's ire.

"Well, no, I don't think he is... "

Black Ice Shadow cut off his trailing voice, "I suspected not. Thank you."

With that, the towering, armored form turned and ascended the staircase. Even with such an impressive stature, the bartender found himself trying to recall details of the mercenary captain who'd just roughed a man up at his tavern. Or was he an itinerant monk... ?

==

Black Ice Shadow entered the room quietly. Kit was sitting on one of the room's two beds, and, looking at him, casually inquired,

"You were gone for a long time. What happened?"

For a moment, he looked to the girl, expression as empty as ever.

"Nothing."