Trinket (Reverse Harem)

Come Find Me

Asund was on the hunt for the truth now, and there was no stopping my wolf from hunting it. He'd chased me across the churn, he'd chase me across a bunch of knowledge.

Me? I was still stuck trying to process that a god had shown up and escorted me to Haven. I could still see him peering at me with his strange eyes, sort of like a buzzard checking to see if something was dead enough, or if they should wait another hour to let the sun work on it. What would have happened if I hadn't run from Him?

Probably nothing, because He had figured out how to get me to run, and He'd chased me right to my consorts.

So why had he gotten his jollies? Maybe He was just a pervert. Nobody ever said the gods didn't like their sexy fun. In fact, they all said the opposite...

Asund kicked the leg of the divan Itek was reclined upon. "If I were going to go read a book or document from a thousand years ago, the language would be different, right?"

Itek glanced down, then back up at Asund, seeming more cat than bird. His words sounded like slow honey. "Slightly, but you'd still be able to read it. It's the handwriting, ink, and paper that's changed. Mostly ink and paper, because of the taint. Has affected handwriting, wax seals, imprints."

"A thousand years ago handwriting was very artistic," Ethat offered quietly, "Even simple things were written with lavish intent. We've even changed how we write several letters to conserve ink and paper. There used to be certain letters that had slightly different sounds--and meanings--depending on how many flourishes they had. There was always a basic meaning, but to the people who knew, the flourishes could have a more precise meaning."

"Like the language of flowers," Ormiss said to Asund. "You do not give someone flowers that are simply pretty or smell sweet. Certain flowers convey specific meanings, especially when in specific arrangements."

"A Hippocamp knows about flowers," Itek sighed to himself.
"I know quite a bit," Ormiss said smugly.

Asund nudged the divan again. "That enclave was a backwater place and nothing about it struck me as out of date or antique. The guards' armor and weapons looked like what I'd expect. Same for attire and speech. I was confused by the writing. When I arrived, I had to give my name and business, and at the Temple, they also took my name. Wrote it down."

"A bit odd, but your point?" Korr asked.

"His point is that dream came from the gods," I said. "Every small detail exists for a reason."

Asund gave Itek a bit of a shake. "It was a quick list of names, but the writing was ornate and the ink and paper looked odd. I remember thinking it was odd they took our names and it all looked so formal when it was clearly a quick thing."

"Could you read the writing, though?" Itek asked.

"Yes, it simply seemed out of place compared to the rest of the enclave. Especially the guards who took my name in the enclave books. I remember thinking a small enclave like that kept a book? And used fine ink? And wrote with such a hand? It bewildered me."

My heart beat a little faster, but I couldn't piece the shards together. "You mean if I was put into that enclave a thousand years ago, it would have been old, because that's what the... conjurer... would have known and created. But instead, it means I was put in... a hundred years ago? They just made it up based off what they pictured it would look like."

"Exactly," Asund said. "Did anyone ever come to the enclave regularly? A merchant? Bard? Tax collector? Maybe they one day stopped showing up."

I racked my brain. "Yes, all of those things. It was... an enclave. Strangers weren't unusual. People came and went."

"Do you remember any of them showing an interest in you?"

I shook my head. "No, no. I was too scarred. You're thinking my captor entered the realm to check on me?"

"Just a thought. Do you remember anyone who came for a while then stopped showing up?"

"There were plenty of people who passed through a time or two and never came back."

Ormiss pressed his forehead to my temple, then told the room. "Two hundred years ago was the last unicorn sighting, but they'd been decreasing in number for at least a few centuries before that."

"Do you know who the last unicorn was?" Itek half sat-up.

"A recluse who lived in the northern forests, near the coast, at the edge of the dragon's domain," Korr said. "The last pocket of unicorns the dragons knew about numbered less than six three hundred years ago."

Ormiss shifted, sending his necklaces and shells rustling. "The unicorns left the waves when the sea-serpents prused the magic of the depths long ago. The last unicorn recorded in Hippocamp territory was four hundred years ago. They refused to go with their sea-serpent lover to the depths and died of a broken heart when their lover chose magic over them. Any remaining unicorns returned to the surface and the forests far in the north. It was probably the same small herd the dragons knew."

"They retreated from the world," Korr said. "They wanted nothing to do with outsiders, but according to accounts, were never rude. Just made it clear they did not want to participate in the world any longer, even with the elder shifters."

Ethat sighed, almost wistfully.

"Sounds like the sea-serpents broke them," Itek said dryly.

Asund waved a hand. "Wait. What if it was the past itself? What if it wasn't a pocket realm, but the actual past?"

"And the God of Barren Branches brought her forward in time?" Itek rolled his head back to look up at Asund, reminding me of a big cat lazily laying on its back. He reached up and batted Asund's thigh.

I touched my scars and thought about the strange, shattered memories I had--like the wedding with the priests that they said nobody did.

Perhaps nobody did... any longer?

Maybe I should just go find a dying tree and ask the God of Barren Branches what was up. But He wouldn't tell me. Already knew that. He'd already told me a ton already.

Itek stretched. "I could check the Temple Archives. If Theia was actually there, her name should appear on the Temple roster. We know the month and day Asund says he went."

"Or she was dead," Ethat whispered.

Korr looked up. "What?"

"Or she was dead," Ethat said again, softly, tormented. "What if she escaped the Land of the Dead, and the God of Barren Branches brought her back? If a necromancer can charm a soul from Death's Grip, then why couldn't the God of Barren Branches send Asund to lure her out and then make off with her?"

"Okay, now I'm done." I got to my feet and placed my hands over my head, dragging my fingers down the side of my head, through my hair, and over my scars. Skin tugged.

"Why would the God of Barren Branches take a unicorn out of Death's Grip and return her to the world with a broken spine?" Korr asked, but not in an ugly way.

"Why would the God of Barren Branches do anything!" I exclaimed. "I'm going to go do something, you lot come find me when we are done talking about this and ready to do something!" 

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Peeepppsssss....

OH MY, IT'S JUST ABOUT DECEMBER. /flails

But this year, I have a lot of shopping done already. You may pat me on the head and tell me "good job." 

I would stay and type more, but I'm recovering from some sort of grunge and lsowly sipping tea and sucking on mints and just want to go lay down.

~ Merry

(pukey pantster) 

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