The Diffident Hero - NaNoWriMo 2012 - Chapter 10, pt. 2

At first they thought he was going to disappoint them, but as the sky darkened and the locals finished their daily work, they began to trickle in. As the mood of the room improved, his did as well. Lena helped this along by reacting badly to any reference to the stranger who’d been poking her nose into the village’s business a couple of weeks past.

“No, she’s gone, and good riddance,” she said. “She left me high and dry here, far from where I came from. I don’t know what her problem was, but I’m glad to be rid of her.”

“Seems like you’ve taken up with another one though,” the barkeep said with a dark look at the front door.

“Sorcha? She’s fine, nothing like Myra at all. Myra, you want to stay away from. She’d snap your head off as soon as say hi.”

“I believe that. I did say my hellos once, and she did practically bite my head off. The money she paid for those rooms was good, but not worth the headaches, if you ask me.”

“Was she really that bad?” Brandon asked. “She’s related to Sorcha, right? Sorcha seems really nice.”

“Not really related, it’s just that they’re both Ilthem Saeri, like we’re all human,” Lena said. “Not all humans are the same, and not all Ilthem Saeri are the same. You see?”

Brendan nodded. “I think so. They look like us, though.”

The barkeep piped in. “They look like us, and I suppose some of ‘em are okay, like you’re sayin’. But that doesn’t mean they’re the same as us. They don’t live long, and they’re too smart for their own good, and always poking their noses in where they don’t belong. Still, you seem like good folk, and if you’re willing to vouch for this Sorcha you’re with, she’ll have no trouble from me as long as she keeps that nose of hers clean.”

“We appreciate that.” Lena smiled at him. “She’s actually here in town to clean up whatever mess it was that Myra made out here.”

“Well I don’t know that this Myra made the mess, it was here before she was,” the barkeep mused, wiping idly at the bar. “She sure didn’t help matters any though. She mostly seemed concerned with snapping orders at anyone who crossed her path, demanding answers to her questions and generally getting in everyone’s way.”

“Like you haven’t had enough troubles lately,” Brendan muttered darkly. The barkeep gave him an approving nod.

“That’s damn right, it is. First the plague comes and takes down most of the village, then there’s monsters in the night, then this Myra folk keeping honest people from getting things back to normal. It’s just been one thing after another round here.”

Creative Commons License
This work and all written work contained within this site is licensed under a Creative Commons License by Gordon S. McLeod. All other rights reserved.
Send to Kindle

The Diffident Hero - NaNoWriMo 2012 - Chapter 10, pt. 1

Late the next day they arrived out of the mountains at the valley containing the village. From a distance, everything looked peaceful enough. It wasn’t until they got closer in that the hunched shoulders, shifty looks and quiet, skittish movements of the people told them something was very wrong.

Nobody would look at them directly until they’d entered the inn, and then they were greeted with sullen suspicion, all except for Lena. Her, the barkeep tensed up upon seeing. “Back, then, are you? Where’s the one you were with last time?”

Lena twisted her mouth in a frown. “We parted ways, I’m happy to say.”

He visibly relaxed and went back to wiping down the bar with a rag. The rag was spotless, as was the bar, Brendan noticed. Small wonder; there were few others in the place, and what others there were were clustered in tight groups around tables far from the door.

“We’ll need two rooms for the night,” she said firmly, an unconscious air of command coming over her that Brendan hadn’t seen before. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but she was surrounded by an air of otherness; she always had it, he realized, but it felt much stronger in this place. Looking at her at that moment, he couldn’t think of her as a human being, and the term she’d given him, Ilthem Saeri, seemed suddenly to be the only appropriate label to apply.

The barkeep nodded, leaping to retrieve a pair of keys for her and taking her money. “Of course, we’ve plenty of space open m’lady. You can take the two rooms farthest down the hall; they’re our finest.”

She nodded and accepted the keys. “Thank you, that sounds perfect.” The she turned back to the two of them. “I need to get out there immediately and learn what I can, while I can. As we discussed yesterday, the two of you stay here and learn what you can in my absence. Without me around, the locals may be willing to tell you things they wouldn’t tell to me.”

Brendan had to wonder at that. “Why would they be more willing to tell us about their business? They don’t know us.”

Sorcha nodded. “True! But they do know me, or my kind, anyway. And they know one of us was around when things were bad. That association will take time to fade in their memories.”

“I wish there was more I could tell you about where Myra went while she was here,” Lena said.

“I appreciate the thought, but I should be able to figure it out. You’ve told me plenty already. Be careful, you two. I’ll be back before morning.”

She vanished out the door without another word, leaving the two of them to their own devices. They took a table away from the others in the place, who grew more animated in their own conversations as soon as Sorcha left.

They spent the last couple of hours before sundown in quiet conversation, Brendan telling Lena the story of how he’d come to be Called since she hadn’t yet heard the story. “You don’t seem especially happy to have been Called,” she observed at one point.

“It’s that obvious?” he replied with a wry smile. “It’s not that I object to being called, really. It’s more … well … I guess it’s a bit petty, but it has kind of thrown my life into chaos. All the attention I was getting back in the real—er, the main—what do we call our part of the world? Anyway, I’m not used to it. At all. I keep to myself, live simply, mind my own business … I never asked for all this, you know?”

“I can’t help but think of it as the real world, too. I guess we could call it the familiar world,” she said, and smiled. “I know what you mean about having your world turned upside down. It’s been a while since I’ve been back to the familiar world though. This has been reality for me for months now.”

“The familiar world,” a decidedly unfamiliar voice said. “I like that term.”

They looked over, and up. A tall, lean figure stood by their table. He was cloaked, but the hood was down, revealing longish brown hair with just a hint of grey about it. He had a friendly face and a deep voice that Brendan wanted to trust. Ironically, that made him want to question whether he should be suspicious of him.

“I’m Richard,” he said by way of introduction. “Richard Leadingham. You can call me Rich.” He pulled up a chair and sat down with them. “You must be Brendan and Lena?”

Taken aback, Brendan nodded. “Brendan Burns,” he confirmed.

“Lena Glavan,” Lena offered.

“A pleasure to meet the both of you. I was told you’d be here; I ran into Sorcha on my way into town just now.”

“You know her?”

“She was my Guide, once upon a time,” he nodded. “It’s been a couple of years since I traveled with her. Strange how time flies, even for us, isn’t it?”

“You’re asking the wrong guy,” Brandon said. “I’ve just barely started, and still more than half wish I could get my life back to normal!”

Rich chuckled. “I’m afraid I can’t help you with that, except to say that your life will probably never be normal again. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but once you’ve seen the bigger picture, the smaller corner never again looks quite the same.”

Brendan had the sinking feeling that he was probably right about that, and drank down some of the beer Lena had bought while Richard signaled for another round.

After a bar maid had brought over a pitcher and a new mug, Richard drank and relaxed into his chair. “So, yes, Sorcha and I know each other going back quite a while. When I ran into her, she asked me to join you.”

Lena looked him over, assessing everything from the state of his clothing to the ease with which he wore the weapons Brendan hadn’t even noticed up until that moment. “You seem to be pretty capable. Why didn’t she ask you to help her with her investigation, especially if you’ve worked together before?”

“I did offer to help, but she needed to move quickly. She’s on the trail of another of her kind, she said. I won’t be of much help with that. They’re better at finding their own than any of us could ever be.”

“So she sent you to mind the kids?” Brandon asked, suppressing a sudden burst of humiliation.

“Far from it, she sent me back here to meet you and then get some sleep. I’ve been on the road for days, I’m exhausted!” he said with a grin. “You two can continue you intelligence gathering at your own pace, and I’ll be happy to help you—but not until tomorrow. Tonight, you’re on your own!”

“You said you traveled with her as your guide a couple of years ago?” Brandon asked.

“Yeah. Not too long ago for us, I suppose. For her though, that was a long time ago. She was very young then. I was her first Called hero.”

“Two years was a long time?” Brendan found himself wondering again just how old Sorcha really was.

“Yes indeed. The Ilthem Saeri are a very short-lived race, at least compared with us. I don’t know exactly how old Sorcha is, but I’d guess she’s probably about 7 or 8 years old.”

“What? No way!” Brandon exclaimed, then hunched down in embarrassment as his outburst drew stares from other tables.

“Can she really be that young? That’s fascinating,” Lena added.

“She can, and probably is. She’ll be middle-aged by about 12 or so, and by 15, she’ll be considered an old woman.” Rich grinned at the expressions on their faces. “They’re an interesting people to get to know. They can take some getting used to; they’re pretty impetuous and impatient by our standards, sometimes, and some people find them flighty. They’re fast though, unbelievably smart and quick on the uptake, and curious about everything. They were the first people to learn to travel between the aspects of the world.”

“The first?” Lena asked. “There are others who can do it?”

“The fact that you’re here is ample evidence of that, I should think.” Rich suppressed a yawn. “You’re both in the early stages of learning to do it yourselves. I can do it at will now, without assistance, though it took a good half a year for me to master it. An Ilthem Saeri typically learns to do it in a week.”

He finished his beer and hid a yawn behind a hand. “And now, it’s been a pleasure meeting you, and I’ll be happy to keep gossiping tomorrow, but I really must sleep. And I’m keeping you from learning what you can about this place. I bid you a good night!”

He rose and they bid their good nights. He got a room from the barkeep before vanishing upstairs.

They’d been on the road for a couple of days themselves, but figured they had at least another hour left in them. They relocated to the bar in the hopes of catching the barkeep in a talkative mood.

Creative Commons License
This work and all written work contained within this site is licensed under a Creative Commons License by Gordon S. McLeod. All other rights reserved.
Send to Kindle

The Diffident Hero - NaNoWriMo 2012 - Chapter 9, pt. 3

“Not somebody I know,” she said, finally. “What can you tell me about the investigation?”

“Well, what happened had puzzled me at the time, but in light of what you just told us about general investigations, it makes a lot more sense now. She had generally kept me out of the way and did most of the investigation on her own, so there’s only so much I can tell you.” Lena seemed to turn inward then. Brendan imagined her reliving the memories as though watching a movie in her head.

“We’d been drawn to the town by reports of a plague that had struck the inhabitants. Myra said it was nothing that would have required our attention, except that there had been several deaths, followed by some sort of trouble after the disease had run its course. News got around the people of the village were terrified, and within a week a notice had gone up at the Hall.

“When we got there, we got rooms at the inn, and Myra all but confined me to mine. She refused to let me get involved in the investigation at all, didn’t even want me talking to anyone from the village. If the villagers themselves hadn’t been so desperate for help that they all but thrust their story at me, I wouldn’t be able to tell you anything at all.”

Sorcha chuckled. “Chattering maids?”

“Yes, and a particularly talkative barkeep,” Lena added. “All scared out of their wits and hoping that the outsider might know something that could help.” She sighed. “Myra wasn’t nearly as amused as you are. When she found out the village folk had talked me to me, she accused me of disobeying her, and that’s when she left me behind.”

The Ilthem Saeri clucked disapprovingly. “I may not know her, but I’m growing to dislike this Myra more and more. If what you say is true, and I’m afraid the picture you’re painting is distressingly consistent, then she’s a blight on our people’s name. That’s not good cause to cease her duties as your guide, and it’s certainly no excuse to leave you stranded.” Her voice got angrier as she spoke; the last was virtually spit upon the ground they walked on.

“What was it that the people in the village told you?” Brendan asked. Lena was silent a moment.

“They’d lost half a dozen people to the plague outbreak. People were sick for several weeks, and the whole village was terrified. It had been several decades since the last plague hit, and that one hadn’t been as bad. Almost everyone had gotten sick to some extent, and they were afraid it might return.

“What really scared them though were disturbances of the graves.”

Sorcha and Brendan both turned to stare at her a moment. Brendan was pretty sure he knew how this story played out. He couldn’t banish the thought of zombies and vampires from his head. Sorcha glanced at him, then, and he caught the distinct impression that she was thinking the same thing. He found it far from reassuring.

“Disturbances?” he asked, knowing someone had to.

“Graves dug up and re-filled during the night. Always the graves of the recently deceased. They performed some sort of superstitious rites over the disturbed graves, and if that had been the end of it, they could have got on with their lives.”

“That wasn’t the end of it though,” Sorcha said, her voice flat.

“No. They lost several of the living, as well. Willem, the drunk. He vanished one night, nobody ever saw him again. Nobody really seemed to miss him much, except for the barkeep; he’d been a steady customer for years. Said he just up and vanished, no trace. No sign in his house that anything was wrong, except that he wasn’t there.

“The others were similar, except that they weren’t so easily dismissed. Willem was the sort of man they could have thought had wandered off drunk into the woods and hurt himself, maybe died. The others had families, were respected and well-liked. Nobody seemed to believe they could have gotten lost or died accidentally, and certainly not with such suspicious timing.”

The story hadn’t done anything to set Brendan’s mind at ease about the zombies and vampires. “It sounds like—”

“—a set up for a zombie story,” Sorcha finished for him. “I wish I could tell you that it’s a silly thought, that things like that don’t happen. Unfortunately, it’s all too possible in some parts of the world, and this part that we’re going to … I’m not ready to dismiss it just yet.”

He swallowed a lump in his throat. “That’s … good to know. What are the rules?”

“Rules?” Lena asked with a raised eyebrow. “I assume the same rules I had before; stay in our rooms and don’t get involved.”

“I think he means the rules of the zombie apocalypse, actually,” Sorcha said with a grin, which she lost after a moment. “And it’s a very good question.

“The rules aren’t quite what you’d expect, Brendan. It’s a lot harder to be turned into a zombie than the movies you’ve seen would suggest. If it weren’t, the whole world would have succumbed a long time ago. That said, they are still incredibly dangerous, and if they bite or scratch you, you will need medical treatment immediately. If you don’t get it, you’re almost guaranteed to die a painful death from infection in short order.

“The infection won’t turn you into a zombie, but dead is dead, and if the one who raised the zombie in the first place is around, there’s no guarantee he won’t raise you into one too.”

“Sounds like you’ve dealt with this before,” he commented. He hoped his voice didn’t sound as nervous as he felt.

“I have,” she confirmed. “And Lena’s right, at least at first. When we arrive, we’ll take rooms, and I’d like the two of you to stay there, at least for a short time while I check out the situation. Unlike Myra, though,” she smiled, “I’d actually appreciate it if you could learn anything you can from the locals. I’m not sure they’ll be any more help now than they were before, but at the very least they should be able to confirm that there have been no more incidents recently.”

“You don’t think there will have been any more attacks?”

“Not if I’m right that someone was raising zombies. It fits the pattern perfectly, and that tells me that a village is too small to remain a viable source for long. Whoever it is will have to have moved on to a larger population center.”

“Unless their needs were served with just a few zombies,” Lena said. Sorcha cast an impressed, appraising look at her.

“You’re quick, that’s good. Yes, it’s possible,” she agreed, “but it’d be pretty weird, at least in my experience. Usually people who bother to raise zombies at all need a fair number of them for whatever it is they’re up to.”

With that cheery thought in mind, they passed the fork on the road, keeping to the right and headed into who knew what kind of trouble.

Creative Commons License
This work and all written work contained within this site is licensed under a Creative Commons License by Gordon S. McLeod. All other rights reserved.
Send to Kindle

The Diffident Hero - NaNoWriMo 2012 - Chapter 9, pt. 2

Lena glanced at him then, and Brendan was struck by the sensitivity in the glance. She’d been keeping an eye on him during the discussion without his having noticed; she was sharp. She’d seen the parade of emotions and confusion across his face, and sympathized with his confusion.

She’d been in his position once, he supposed; new to the whole expanded world concept. Probably not all that long ago, either.

They retreated upstairs and Sorcha explained the solution to the proprietor, who nodded, satisfied. They collected half their payment, the rest to be collected upon completion of the service, likely in the next several days. “We’ll have to return to make sure it worked,” she explained as they hit the road. “We’ll get the rest then.”

“The village we were in was several days toward that mountain range. The village is in a valley you can’t quite see from here. If we follow the road, we’ll find a fork in a few hours. If we stay to the right, we’ll be on the right path.” Lena rattled off the directions as quickly and certainly as any GPS navigator Brendan had ever used. She was probably less likely to be thrown off by bad satellite data though, he figured.

“What kind of job was it you were on when this all happened?” he asked.

“General investigation of a disturbance,” she said, eyes going a bit dark as her mind strayed back.

“That’s a pretty high-level job type,” Sorcha interjected. “How long did you say you’d been with her?”

“I believe I said she’d helped me with several jobs,” she said thoughtfully, “and while it can be difficult sometimes to estimate how long you’ve been traveling different aspects of the world, I’d guess it was at least two months.”

“Two months, and already doing general investigations,” Sorcha said with a frown. “Two months isn’t very long for your people.”

Brendan started a bit at that, and looked over at Sorcha again, more carefully. It was nearly impossible to assign an age to her; he hadn’t really noted that before. If she’d revealed that she was 21, he wouldn’t have blinked. If she’d said 41, he’d have thought little of it.

“Is it different for … The People?” he said, unsure of what to call them if not that.

She grinned suddenly. “The Ilthem Saeri. That’s what we call ourselves. It translates roughly to The People,’ but it sounds so much better, don’t you think? Anyway, yes, two months is a pretty long time for one of us. Let’s leave it at that for now.”

She returned her attention to Lena and the task before them, all traces of the grin vanished from her face. “Was there some unusual circumstance that demanded she bring you along on this investigation?”

“She didn’t mention any, no. Hmmm … what’s so dangerous about general investigations?”

“We call jobs general investigations when we know too little about what’s going on to find a better name for them. The lack of information is what makes it dangerous for the newly Called. It might be something perfectly safe, or something dreadfully unsafe, and so as a rule, we either handle them on our own or bring only much more experienced people along. Lena, I hate to ask it, but what was your guide’s name?”

“She called herself Myra.”

Sorcha nodded. She looked troubled at the name, though there had been no look of recognition, either.

Creative Commons License
This work and all written work contained within this site is licensed under a Creative Commons License by Gordon S. McLeod. All other rights reserved.
Send to Kindle

The Diffident Hero - NaNoWriMo 2012 - Chapter 9, pt. 1

The look on Sorcha’s face was many things all at once. Incredulous, surprised, shocked, dismayed, betrayed, concerned, hurt, angry, skeptical; all of these emotions and more warred back and forth across her features at Lena’s words.

Anger finally won the tussle. Her face was white and her eyes wild, lips a thin line until she burst into a shout. “How can you say that! She is one of us, one of the People! We—”

“—are individuals, just like everyone else. You have individual variation within your population, just as we do. I’m accusing her alone, not all of your people.” Lena was amazingly calm; Brendan would’ve quailed before the onslaught.

Sorcha drew up short, eyes narrowed, features still severe, but she nodded curtly. “Of course. I’m sorry for my outburst. You’re certain of your accusations? My people won’t like hearing this, and not all of their reactions will be as reserved as mine.”

“Sorry to be the bearer of such bad news. But I’m afraid it’s a certainty.” She sighed deeply and stared at the floor for a moment before looking up right into Sorcha’s eyes. “She left evidence behind that will tell you everything you need to know about who she is and what she’s capable of.”

“What evidence? Evidence of what?”

Lena’s tone was flat and even, without a waver or hesitation. “Murder.”

Sorcha scoffed. “Violence is unavoidable at—”

“’Violence is unavoidable, some might even say inevitable.’ She told me the same thing, early on in our travels. But this wasn’t some guard standing between us and our pursuit of a noble goal. This was the wanton, senseless killing of an innocent.”

Sorcha’s face started transitioning from pale and angered to sorrowful, though her eyes still held a bright spark of something.

Lena continued. “I was shocked at the time, not sure of what to do, but after the fact I returned and made sure the scene was still undisturbed. We can return there, verify my claims.”

Sorcha nodded, wiping at a tear that had fallen from her eye. “I’ll have to do exactly that. You’ll come with us for now.”

Creative Commons License
This work and all written work contained within this site is licensed under a Creative Commons License by Gordon S. McLeod. All other rights reserved.
Send to Kindle

The Diffident Hero - NaNoWriMo 2012 - Chapter 8, pt. 4

Brendan set another piece down, then turned to listen at the ‘at first.’

“I can’t say exactly what went wrong. I don’t think there was any one specific thing. She got very impatient with what she called my shortcomings, and we began fighting more and more. Finally I guess she’d had enough. She left me behind. I’ve been on my own since, trying to get by with what little she taught me.”

“Wait,” Brandon said. “She left you here? Not back in our part of the world?”

“Not here in this specific part of the world, but yes, she left me without bringing me back home.”

Sorcha was quiet and still; it reminded him a great deal of her behavior while she’d been observing him at the office. Her eyes were fixed intently on Lena, and almost seemed to glow as she took in everything the girl said. He could almost have sworn her ears twitched forward, she was listening so intently.

“The behavior you describe is unusual for one of my kind,” she said at last. “Not unheard of. But rare. Very rare. And to leave you essentially stranded? This is serious, Lena. You don’t know what prompted her to such action?”

“Personality clash? We didn’t exactly see eye-to-eye about how to handle jobs we were on. She seemed to prefer … um … excessive methods.”

Sorcha’s eyebrows rose sharply. “Excessive? What do you mean?”

“Well, take this job for instance. If she’d been here handling it like you did, she’d have chosen the same method. But where you don’t like it and wish there was another way to handle it, I’m certain she would have enjoyed it.”

Creative Commons License
This work and all written work contained within this site is licensed under a Creative Commons License by Gordon S. McLeod. All other rights reserved.
Send to Kindle