Economy of action. Take only what is needed.
Death was brought.
“DRIZZIT!”, Vyerna screamed out loud, the shock and horror overriding any psionic telepathic ability she had left, as tears now freely flowed down her cheeks.
Drizzit balked, looking down at Zahul’s bicep, half buried inside his chest, scarcely believing. All this time, he had avoided death so many times, so many close calls. Now finally he had made his first and last mistake. It did not even hurt because the trauma was so great that his body was completely in shock. Drizzit could only cling to the mortal coil now because Zahul had somehow missed his heart and instead mauled his upper stomach. The gastric acid was eating away at Drizzit’s guts but there were no nerve endings there so he could not feel his gradual dissolution. A font of black blood dribbled out of his mouth. He raised his eyes up at his reaper.
Zahul pulled Drizzit close, so that their faces were nearly touching.
“Beg for your mercy,” he said coldly, “And I shall take away your suffering.”
The Deathbringer had been so calculated that the rage did not corrode his thinking. What echoes of the Darthrak now worked to close his thousand cuts. Acid eaten entrails fell around Zahul’s arm, and the hydrochloric acid burned him. He still saw the elf as a person. An evil one. But a person, nonetheless. He would take no joy in this. It was the first elvan kill since-
-Since Orcan Please, You Animal.
Even an elf as foul as this child trafficker deserves mercy.
Drizzit did not beg.
He smiled. It would be okay. Vyerna has the package. He had bought her enough time. Now, before his story ended, before the curtains closed, he would have his final bow. Hero moment.
Vyerna…
Drizzit… Vyerna wanted to look away from the gruesome scene but could not tear her eyes away from her brother-lover’s last moments.
Have a good time in Tuneden- he began a demented cackle, though it was frail and soft, and the black was now pouring out from his laughing lips profusely -my dearly beloved sister Vyerna, my Mistress Dominatrix.
For me. The laugh now abruptly stopped, held in a grimace. He didn’t really want to die. But he was already dead.
DRIZZIT, NO! Vyerna’s psionics were bound and decayed, but her closeness to her brother-lover was so great that she could still know exactly what he was thinking of doing.
Impalement is gutsy. You bring the opponent right up to you. And Zahul had pulled Drizzit close- face to face.
So Drizzit pulled Icingdeath up to their face-off with what little strength he had remaining, too weak to swing a proper blow-
-And pulled the trigger.
It was honorable to cause your own death, especially if it was impending anyway by catastrophic damage to the body. If it meant saving someone you loved. To die with honor in battle against a worthy opponent.
The rapidly unpressurized cloud blast of negative two hundred degrees nitrogen vapor detonated in front of Zahul’s eyes, and it was only by the grace of the ebbing flows of the wagh from his Deathbringer blow that he had the reflexes to pull away before his face was frozen.
Drizzit’s face, on the other hand, was doused. The blast had hit Drizzit’s prefrontal cortex so directly that he felt no pain at all. For his true death, the complete obliteration of his consciousness had happened so suddenly he had no time to feel the nerve endings frost-burning away.
“WAAAA-AAAAGH!”
Fuck economy of action!
But Zahul had been blinded. Much like his son’s armlock, here was where the wagh could not help. The snowy blast of freezing had sealed his eyelids shut with frost. He put his hands to his face to try to warm them – he had an ice cream headache the size of a rapidly melting glacier – but to no avail, as the frost just stung his hands. He ignored the pain and kept pressing hard, praying to feel for the first moisture of a melt, and it began to come, but he didn’t have the time!
Vyerna thought-screamed, JARLAXLE, EXFIL, NOW! As she clutched tightly to her nazge, the unconscious body of Githarie Thraxes.
As Zahul stumbled about in this binding darkness, flailing wildly, roaring with vain, he thought to himself that no! He couldn’t fail Githarie now! Not when he was so close! He had to earn the honor of being a father! He had to deserve it!
He was her hero.
It was easy to be Da when the-
No. Wait.
Echolocation!
Zahul roared again, and the contours of the world expanded before him, a sonic radial of imagined light. Sound waves visible to the mind’s eye.
But it did not help.
“GITHARIE!”
It was torturous that it was through his very screams of pain that he could sense the catastrophe of his life. All he could echolocate now was the hovering Drake, swooping low to drop a tentacle that snaked across Vyerna and her precious, wrapping around, securing them tightly… No, no, NO!
“NO!”
…before skyhooking them up into its rider’s sac and soaring away. Zahul was helpless to stop it.
He sank to his knees, and his head bowed.
He blindly looked up to the sky.
And then Zahul roared his grief to the callous heavens.
A father’s cry. Not a warrior’s.
His daughter was gone.
His Dolphin.
Her Da… he had failed her.
The Drake continued to soar through the night sky, the trail of its wind leaving a plume of chemtrail.
Inside the rider’s sac Vyerna wept. She was still clutching onto Githarie. Her tears flowed out and floated through the amniotic fluid- a constellation of her crystallized sorrow.
Drizzit…
His death would not be in vain! She had it now. She had it!
But she would be alone.
She prayed to the Goddess to grant Drizzit peace in rest.
Jarlaxle.
Yes, Vyerna.
Contact Royal Psion Yedwin. Tell her I have the package.
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Done. We go.
Burzum ishi krimpatul.
In the darkness.
Bind them.
Githarie awoke.
The world was all a blur. Her mouth was dry. She was terribly hungry. Pain burned all along her back and all over her legs. She tried to turn her head- it was strapped down. She tried to move her body- it was tied down. She struggled. It was to no avail.
Finally, her vision came to focus.
She was still on Orca. The Drake sat nearby, curled and quiet. It had powered down. The landscape was unfamiliar. She had never come here before. All she could identify were trees that did not grow on Rothera. It was slightly warmer. As far as she could guess, they must be closer to the peninsula- where the first wave of the Exodus first landed.
“Ngh… Ngh! GAH!” She kept trying to struggle against the straps, but they were too tight, and she was too drained. And she was strapped down so tightly that the long cut that Drizzit’s scimitar had scraped out on her back hurt badly, especially the more she struggled.
“Ah good. You’re awake.” Vyerna.
It was a disembodied voice, for Githarie could not turn her head to look at her.
“You’ll be sorry, elf.” Githarie tried her best to be brave, “My Da is going to kill you.” But this was beyond anything she had ever experienced before. Her lips still trembled as she made her threat. She had accepted she was going to die when she collapsed in front of the elf twins. But now she was afraid of things worse than death. Things she had never considered could ever happen to her. She knew she would die one rote, she tried not to think about it, but now- now maybe death would be preferable. No! Survive! You have to survive. Da will come for you!
“Your father slew my brother.”
“He deserved it!”, Githarie gnashed her teeth. How was she going to get out of this?
Vyerna just stayed silent.
Finally, she said, “Let him come, and I shall have my vengeance.”
“Burn in hell, elf.”
Vyerna strode up to Githarie, strapped down to the stretcher, and slapped her hard on the face. Then she slapped Githarie again. And again. Finally, she relented.
“Be quiet, orc.”
They stayed silent for a long time.
In the sky a streak of light lit up, but it was no meteor to wish upon, no asteroid or star. The twisting path was unmistakable. It was a dragon.
Clan Amallark.
Vyerna now felt a little giddy. She was still mourning Drizzit but she knew she would be able to let go eventually. All their brood, all eight, had died. Vyerna was the last one left. One of eight. She would honor their memory. Their sacrifice shall not be in vain. Vyerna resolved to live her life as freely as possible, for Drizzit, for all her fallen Clan. She would never serve another again, sovereign only to herself. She would live free as an orcan, and as powerful as an elvan! She would take back her psionic ability. And she would find a new soldier to love. She would live as a Queen would, no longer a worker, no longer an assassin, no longer a rogue. Rogue Queen Vyerna. It had a ring to it.
Freedom. She knew what it meant.
Upon the dragon’s descent, the ground shook so much it felt like a seismic tremor to Githarie. A great veil of steam shrouded them as the dragon hovered, coiled above the water, by the shore. Vyerna approached and threw herself into a kowtow.
This humble trader is honored that the noble Clan Amallark would grace her with this sacred mission! She had to be servile.
The dragon’s belly opened, and a ramp slid out. Yedwin strode out, flanked on both sides by a psion, a knight, and a worker. The seven Amallarkeans gathered around Githarie, strapped to the table now.
Release her. We must examine.
As you wish, Mistress Royal Psion.
Without another word the workers went ahead and undid the straps. Githarie sprang out but the knights quickly took hold of her, and Githarie was no match for their carapace strength. They took her before Yedwin. One knight clasped her mouth with his gauntlet so she could not speak, the hard gryph-plates dug into her skin and pinched.
Githarie was too weak to try and fight it anymore. She was so badly outnumbered. She had to resign herself to her fate. She shut her eyes as tears flowed, unwilling to let these monstrous elves see her trepidation.
Yedwin’s eyes narrowed.
Is this the best you can do? This runt?
Mistress Psion, forgive me! Skai! Not good enough- the possibility was revolting. She had to fulfill her promise to Drizzit! Would she have to go through it all again? And by herself this time? But what could she do? When dealing with Clan Amallark all you could do is beg. Forgive me. I shall accept it if you refuse this tribute, but please Mistress Psion, I have done everything as asked! I serve Holy Goddess!
Yedwin put one hand on Githarie’s lower abdomen, and ectoplasm flowed from the pores of her palm. Yedwin closed her eyes briefly, and then they snapped open again.
It is acceptable.
Oh, thank you Goddess! Thank you! Vyerna was elated now. It was done! She had succeeded! She would-
The two flanking psions, but not Yedwin, pointed their extended middle fingers at Vyerna now. Githarie’s eyes bugged open. Was this- the evil magick of psionics? Would she witness it firsthand now?
And then Vyerna’s eyes bugged out in horror too. Overwhelmed. Outnumbered. Trapped. No. No! Wait! She had done as they asked! She-
Yedwin gave the command. Liquidate her.
totalDomination.powerWord:Kill(
target: Vyerna Du Pont
)
Vyerna had been a strong psion a very long time ago, and despite the diminution of her ability, her skills denuded by encryption that had yet to unravel, her base survival instinct would not go without resistance. She held her mind, pushed out her focus as much as she could, to keep the probing, thorny needles, strung up with malignant threads of malice, away from her inner self, ward off the weakest beliefs that could be attacked, held dear to the core of her mind. The things she knew she knew, because she knew why she knew them.
I know that I do not want to die, because I want to live. I know why I want to live because I know what to live for. I know what I want to live for. To get rich or… die trying.
She had to keep repeating the mantra. She had to hang on.
So, her heart did not stop. But she looked as if she was seizing now, her entire body shaking violently. Foam came out from her broken, lip split mouth. Her eyes bounced left and right. Her muscles strained so tight it looked as if she could break her own back with spasms. Githarie watched on in horror, though she hated Vyerna, now she felt pity for her.
Do not think about killing yourself.
Yedwin walked up to Vyerna. Vyerna’s twitching neck looked back up to her. Though she could say nothing, her eyes pleaded mercy. Please. Why? I have only done as you asked.
Do not think about killing yourself!
Stronger than you look. But still. Not strong enough.
Do not… do not… don’t-
Her hope, her dreams, her aspirations, her light – get rich or die trying, a quiet life in the Archipelago, a post on Vyredia – was snuffed. Back to black. She knew, with finality, that her end had come. Power Word: Kill will not spare you with denial. It asked for your complicity.
Yedwin handed Vyerna a dagger.
Suddenly Vyerna’s body seemed at ease, no longer shaking, as if it knew exactly what it had to do. Vyerna now seemed content. At peace. Her face was blank and expressionless.
All that was needed now was the thought-word. The final command. The Total Domination had done its work. All that was left now was confirmation. Yedwin took no joy in it though.
Kill.
“For the Glory of the Goddess,” she said.
And then Vyerna plunged the dagger right into her heart.
Just the split second before she died, she regained herself, and whispered, “Be right there… Driz.”
Then her lifeless body collapsed to the ground, prostrate.
The secret must not be known.
Githarie screamed. She screamed and screamed, but the knight’s gauntlet that held her mouth tight would not budge, dug harder into her jaw, biting the bone. Nothing could have prepared her for this. How could this be? Could they make her- she couldn’t even think it out. It was too horrible to comprehend. She thought about her suicidal ideation when she was having the bad trip, and the thought of being unable to fight it, to be pulled down by it, to drown in it… the dread was too much to bear.
She fainted.
Good. Load up the orc. We have a long journey ahead of us.
Yes, Mistress Psion, they all thought back in unison, Goddess will be done.
They carried Githarie into the dragon, and then it shot away to the void.
Sinai Gates-Buffett
Anti-hero at best.
It was not dissimilar at all to the mind flay the God Empress brought upon her own daughter, just- for real this time.
That bubhosh ghash wagh at work.
He was the one who read her Amazing Spider-man #33 when she was just a nakaz nakaz baby zug. All father and daughter relationships are unique unto themselves, but some are stained black, others an awkward shade. But theirs – Da and Gith – was a golden one. She was truly the gift from the universe that he most valued, above all other things that it gave. ‘Gift’ - it was the root of her name.
Goodbye Githarie Thraxes. We hope you had a happy birth rote. Enjoy your adventure, there and back again.
They had landed on an uninhabited patch of King George Island, where the villages of Arctowski and Greatwall lay. It was as close to Protorca as one could be while remaining on Orca.
It is only when we are afraid that we can be brave.
But if there had to be a specific type of freedom that Vyerna was looking for, it was financial freedom.
Her epistemological foundation of her identity.
It was not in the natural order of things for the physical body to obey this command.
The modal. The pop-up. Avada Kedavra? Continue or cancel.
Thankfully they could not. Psionics did not work on orcans.