Cassandra

XXI. Under the Suntree

"Well..." Vex said, shattering the fragile quiet, and everyone shook themselves off, as if waking from a dream.
"What about you?" Keyleth said, her voice heavy with concern as she turned to Percy. "How do you feel?"
"How's that gun of yours?" Scanlan hinted.
At my shoulder, Percy looked thoughtfully down into the acid at his feet, and brought out the two broken pieces of his enchanted pistol, crudely wedging them back together. Raising his arm quite suddenly, he placed the gun against my forehead, on the verge of shooting me. The others started forward nervously, prepared to stop him, but I knew my brother. And his eyes were thoughtful, not aggressive. He meant me no ill will. For a moment everyone stood tense, waiting for Percy's next move.
"I think I'm alright." Percy sighed, dropping his arm, and the tension in the room relaxed slightly. A slow kindling smile flickered on my brother's face, widening to a cautious grin. "I think I may be alright!"
"Why don't you toss that thing into the acid, just in case." Scanlan said doubtfully, pointing at the gun.
Without answering Percy went to the instrument laden tables on one side of the room. After searching through the scattered bottles and strange apparatus, he uncorked a small bottle that clearly contained more acidic compound. Taking great care, he slowly melted the surface of the pistol's barrel, until my name was no longer visible there. Then he paused to examine his work, and tucked the gun back into his coat.
"I think it's fine."
"You think it's fine?" Scanlan returned, extremely dubious.
"We've got to have some faith." Percy said with a tiny hint of a smile.
"I don't have any faith." The gnome said, then he suddenly brightened. "Here we'll make a deal: I'll let you keep that gun, if you give me Ripley's"
"No." Percy said sternly, becoming serious once again.
"I am so, so, glad that your smoke monster is seemingly gone Percy, thats wonderful news..." Vex said hesitantly. "But we should figure out what to do."
"Well we should probably go talk to Keeper Yennin," Percy said. "Gather the rest of the rebels together."
"Oh, wait, the revolution." Keyleth exclaimed with a start, growing agitated.
"You forgot about that?" Percy asked with a teasing grin.
"Yeah, we should go stop the fighting..." Keyleth said, nervously playing with her hair again. "Let them know its over..."
"So if they're still fightin'," Grog suddenly put in dully, trying to keep track of it all on his fingers as he worked it out in his head. "Doesn't that mean its not over?"
"Well I'm sure they don't know that the Briarwoods are dead." Keyleth tried to explain.
"Perhaps," my brother put in, seeing that Grog still looked confused, "if we tell everyone that they're dead..."
"Oh...yeah..." Grog said, evidently giving up trying to solve the problem, and just nodding like he understood. Then he suddenly brightened as a new pearl of wisdom broke upon him, and he eagerly voiced the new thought that had suddenly illuminated him. "Maybe we'll see Ripley on the way out!"
"Wouldn't that be nice..." Percy said darkly, the old menace resurfacing for an instant, then the moment was passed, and he was cheerful once again.
"I just had a thought Percy." Scanlan piped up, tugging on my brother's coat sleeve.
As Percy turned to look down at him, I saw Scanlan's fingers swirl behind his back. Percy saw it too, but as his face darkened, Scanlan brought his hand out and blew through his fingers, as if he were blowing my brother a kiss. My brother's shoulders relaxed, his eyes blurring for an instant, and when his eyes cleared, he looked down at Scanlan questioningly as if nothing had happened.
"I think I know how to fix your gun." The gnome declared brightly, holding out his hand expectantly. "If you'd just hand it over to me."
For a long moment Percy regarded Scanlan searchingly. But the tiny figure met his piercing gaze fearlessly, still holding out his hand, and smiling brightly. Then, Scanlan winked. At last Percy reached into his coat, and slowly passed Scanlan the broken gun.
"Thank you Percy," Scanlan said. The gun looked ridiculously oversized in the gnome's much smaller grip, and he held it thoughtfully. "I think in due time you will thank me for this..." And with that, the gnome hoisted the gun in both his hands, and tossed it into the acid. With a loud hiss it sank into the violent liquid, disappearing beneath the surface.
"When the charm fades, he's gonna be super pissed," Scanlan said to the others. "Somebody protect me."
Grog grabbed his much smaller friend by the shirt, and lifted the gnome to his shoulders, out of Percy's immediate reach. Even as Scanlan spoke of a charm, I saw my brother's eyes suddenly clarify as if he had been half asleep.
"That was so expensive!" He yelped, leaping forward to try and fish his creation out of the acid. "That was so expensive!"
Keyleth's hand shot out, as if she were catching something invisible in the air before her, and as her hand closed, Percy came to an unnatural standstill. He froze on the edge of the pool, straining to escape from the paralysis, and whimpered as the gun continued to hiss beneath the surface. The others relaxed as the danger of Percy trying to rescue his weapon passed, and Scanlan sighed, saying "thank you Keyleth." She smiled brightly, flattered by the gnome's praise, and continued to keep her hand clenched, holding Percy captive.
"Percy, dear, you'll thank us for it later, I know it." Vex said plaintively, taking my brother's face between her hands.
"He's paying for a new one." Percy growled threateningly.
"I'm so sorry." Vex kissed him on the cheek.
"He's paying for a new one."
Before anything more could be said, the acid suddenly boiled, bubbles streamed to the surface, and the hissing grew frenzied. Then a larger bubble burst through the muck, and a puff of black smoke burst the surface, hovering for a moment, before it dissolved into nothingness. Percy released an involuntary gasp as the shadow melted away, going limp against Keyleth's spell for a moment.
"Oh just throw the flying carpet in there now, why don't you!" Percy exclaimed unhappily as silence finally fell, the gun completely consumed.
"Percival!" Keyleth said reproachfully. "That hurts."
Still looking regretfully into the acid, Percy groaned, and I hesitantly stepped in front of him.
"Brother," I prompted, taking his face in my hands like Vex had done, forcing him to look at me. "We've all made sacrifices for this..."
I slapped him.
"You were never Mother's favorite!" Percy retorted hotly.
"Oh, lets not be petty..." Scanlan said.
"She told me!"
I only grinned wickedly, and pinched his cheek. Keyleth at last relaxed her hand, releasing Percy from the spell. He stumbled forward into me, unexpectedly able to move again, and gripped my arms to keep from loosing his balance. Clumsily I supported him, drawing him back to his feet.
"Brother, lets go to our people." I murmured. Even though it felt intensely awkward, I didn't want to let go of his hands, and continued to hold onto him. "Lets tell them, that for the first time in five years, Whitestone is free."
Gently I began to draw him back toward the castle, but he resisted me. He was still gazing longingly into the acid where his gun had disappeared, and despairing of ever getting him to follow willingly, I roughly put his arm in mine and dragged him up the tunnel. After pulling him along for a few steps, he unwillingly relented, and turned away.
"That one was enchanted..." He mourned under his breath. "Two enchantments just....oh God...I am gonna kill you Scanlan..." Then he fell silent, leaving the rest of his unhappy mutterings unuttered.
Arm in arm we walked up the tunnel, retracing our steps through the empty tombs, the cellar, and finally emerging into the castle's dimly lit hallways. I had no idea where we were going, but Percy finally took the lead. The castle was utterly silent, as still as a graveyard, and the entrance hall when we reached it was completely deserted. Percy quietly pulled me through the castle's double doors, across the courtyard, and shoved his way through the heavy gate, stepping out onto the muddy road that snaked its way up to the castle.
The shadows of early evening were beginning to fall, a blaze of reds and gold illuminating the sky to the west over the mountain tops, where the sun was sinking toward the horizon. It was a cold day, sharp but refreshing in its chill. Over the trees of the valley was a dead stillness, no wind, no airs to disturb the silence. As if the entire valley waited for some stroke.
But we were no longer alone. Trudging doggedly up the road, weary, bloodied, and battered, was a clustered group of haphazardly armed soldiers. The remaining forces of the rebellion that my brother and his companions had sparked. Scattered along the road behind them were bodies, some human, some less so, but these fighters at least seemed to have pushed through all resistance. In their weary determination I could read the bravery of men who had little hope of victory, but went to their death anyway, resolved that if they were to die, they would die such a death as deserved remembrance.
At their head I could see the unmistakable figure of Keeper Yennin himself, as weary as his men, but still the indomitable leader. As he drew close, he saw my brother, and held out his arms, bringing his men to a halt with their weapons drawn. On either side of my brother, his friends filled in the empty space, standing in support of him, also at the ready. Yennin stepped out from the rest of his men, a lonely figure between the two groups, and Percy also took a step forward, disengaging himself from my arm.
"You there," the Keeper called out doubtfully. "Percival, Vox Machina, are your wits about you?"
"You know it." Vex said, with a wink, and a tired salute.
"The Briarwoods are dead." Percy called out, speaking not to Yennin, but the men as a whole, his voice just loud enough to be heard by all, but not shouting. A ripple of murmurs ran among the men, then silence again fell.
"The serpent's head is cut off," Vax'ildan said, "but there is still much to do."
Stepping out from her companions, Keyleth lifted her arms to the sky. The heavy clouds overhead swirled and darkened, thickening until a clear outline could be seen, and a giant token of Pelor became visible in the clouds. A few ragged cheers rose from the men as they looked up at the symbol in the sky.
"Are you certain this is done?" Yennin asked urgently, crossing the empty space between himself and Percy.
"There are still remnants of their evil beneath the castle," Percy said soberly. "But the Briarwoods are no more."
A slowly kindling grin dawned on the upright old man's face, wrinkles deepening across his face as he smiled, and slowly he turned back to his men. All attention instantly fastened upon the old priest, as all listened with bated breath to hear what he would say. Looking at the assembled soldiers, Yennin suddenly laughed, and threw down his shield.
"Well you heard the man," He shouted. "The Briarwoods are dead, Whitestone is free...The de Rolos are in power once again!"
Deafening cheers rose from the weary men. Smiles of relief broke out on every face, men tossed their helmets into the air and caught them, or threw aside their weapons and embraced, the whole militia was broken up in tumult as men rejoiced, and strangers congratulated each other as if they were brothers. Keyleth and Vex both joined in, Grog bellowed triumphantly, and I couldn't help but laugh. A chill of years had long since crept into me, and the joy of the men heartened me. Below us in the valley lights began to kindle, tiny yellow stars placed in windows, or carried through the street, as news of the victory was borne through the city.
"I don't know what to say!" Yennin laughed, clapping Percy's shoulders. "Come, there is much to discuss, let us leave this foul place for the time being. Men, seal the doors to the castle, don't allow any intruders."
"We really need to rest." Keyleth said, as men rushed to obey the Keeper's orders.
"Then come." Yennin said, gesturing toward the slowly awakening city below. "You've certainly earned it!"
After thinking for a moment, looking up at the thick clouds overhead, she shook her head and turned to my brother.
"I'll catch up with you guys," She said. "I think these people need to see the sun..."
Stepping back, Keyleth vanished into a swirl of wind. Leaves and bits of grass were caught up in the swirl, and for a moment I could almost make out a faint human shape, formed out of air itself. Then with a rush, the swirl of independent whirlwind leapt up into the sky. Overhead the clouds began to slowly push apart, as Keyleth's strange wind form began to beat a path through them to the sky above.
After watching for a moment, Percy reached out and took my arm again, leading the way down toward Whitestone. Everyone obediently fell behind him, and the two of us took the front, the natural leaders for the moment. What had been a weary march toward certain death, was now a returning parade bearing tidings of victory, and the men still cheered or embraced as they went, breaking out into strings of discordant song. Small clusters of peasants from Whitestone ventured forth to meet us, a small number of women or elderly who lived close to the city gate, and left the walls to reunite with their loved ones. A few found their dear ones, others were not so lucky, for there had still been a heavy battle to defeat all the Briarwood's other undead forces, and some had not returned. More joined us as the men pushed into the city, swelling our ranks until the ragged group of men had become a large procession. And at the forefront of the entire parade, was my brother and I, with Yennin and Percy's other friends close on either side.
Suddenly Scanlan broke away from the group, and with a slick grin and a swagger in his step, walked up to a woman who had just emerged from her house to watch the procession as it went by. She was a very beautiful woman, with rich brown hair, dark black eyes, slender neck, and very fine features. As Scanlan stepped up to her waist, for he hardly stood much higher, his face grew sympathetic and he bowed gracefully, one hand on his heart.
"Your husband..." Scanlan began, reaching out to take the woman's hand, and she became very pale, hanging on his words.
"Pike is right here Scanlan." Vex'ahlia said, crossing her arms disapprovingly, and raising one slender eyebrow with blistering sarcasm.
"Oh, um," Scanlan stammered, jumping at the sound of Pike's name, glancing at his fellow gnome in a fluster, and finishing his speech in a hurried rush of words. "Your husband died for a great cause, thanks, bye."
As the bard practically ran back to the rest of his friends, one of the men detached himself from the rest, and also approached the woman. Her face lit up a soon as she saw him, and he kissed her on the cheek, wrapping his arm around her waist. She laughed then blankly asked, "who was that man?" Her husband only shrugged. Scanlan upon rejoining his companions, was roughly thrust back into place by Vex, who made sure to smack him over the head first.
"So we've sealed the castle right, we don't have to worry about that for now..." The gnome reasoned, apparently focused on business once again. "But Ripley got away, and also there's a Goliath on the loose."
"Not anymore there isn't." Yennin said, with dark satisfaction. "Follow me."
"Do we have any young boys around?" Scanlan inquired brightly.
"I'm sorry--" The Keeper stammered, utterly baffled by his strange question. "What?"
"I just need a fleet footed boy," Scanlan said, "to fetch me a beret."
"See the last time I was lookin' for a boy, everybody gave me shit too." Grog said, his voice indignant and injured.
"Oh we're going to give him shit," Percy said smugly. "Don't worry Grog, there isn't a problem here."
"All of you," Vax'ildan said, imitating Scanlan, and throwing out his arms commandingly. "Bring me your smallest, most helpless child!"
Before this conversation could spiral any farther, the press of people around us suddenly thinned, as the procession emerged into the central square, and the ranks of men began to fill the edges of the square. Stepping out from the others, and taking a position under the withered corpse of the Suntree, Yennin turned and raised his arms. Immediately silence fell, and the tension grew sharp as all waited to hear what the Keeper had to say.
"For generations, it was those of the Zenith that watched over this tree, and these people here. It was by the Evil that once held foot in this town, that Father Rynoll, last keeper of the tree, was slain." Yennin said solemnly, looking up at the sagging and wearied branches that canopied over his head. "We will work to find those who wish to take up his mantle, to clean and rebuild the Zenith, but until that time I, Yennin, swear to make this tree's safety my responsibility..."
Nods of approval passed between the men. Keeper Yennin and Father Rynoll had both been religious men, and though they had carried different faiths, and given their allegiance to different gods, that the one should help to preserve and nurture the other seemed only right. The matter was settled, but Yennin, by long history, was not one to make short speeches, or reach his point quickly. He still had more to say.
"Let us all take a moment to thank the heroes that made this freedom possible." He said, holding out his hand to the clustered group of ragged adventurers that had befriended my brother, and one by one calling them forward. "To the strong and brave Grog, the gentle soul Pike, the swift of bow Vex'ahlia, and her cunning brother Vax'ildan. To the clever wit and...strange humor...of Scanlan, and, to the keeper of the earth Keyleth."
Cheers rose from the men, and clapping broke out. Instead of taking satisfaction in this reverence, most of Percy's companions seemed extremely embarrassed by it, and looked rather shamefaced. Scanlan characteristically, and quite predictably, was not embarrassed in the least, and bowed with a flourish.
"And of course," Yennin continued after a moment, stepping down from his place, and dragging both Percy and I up to the tree by main force. "To the ancient blood, and the sacrifices made by those we once thought lost. Now returned and raised up, to restore the glory of this people, Percival and Cassandra de Rolo." More rejoicing broke out, and over the cheers Yennin shouted. "May we all raise up our weapons! To Vox Machina!"
Clamoring shouts of "Vox Machina!" "De Rolo!" "Whitestone!" and other similar cheers broke out. Hats were thrown in the air, and the people surged forward, wildly shaking hands with each other, and all eager to thank their saviors. Before we could be smothered, Yennin once again shouted, holding up his hands to calm the people. The crowd parted, and through the middle came several armed men, dragging between them the half giant Vedmire, and a vicious looking half orc woman I had once seen at the castle under the Briarwood's rule. As they were pulled forward, hostile silence fell, and the people looked on stonily.
"The two remaining New Nobles, given power here, as they aided the Briarwoods in taking this city." Yennin said, looking down on the prisoners, and they were both forced to their knees before him. "We have 'Duke' Gorron Vedmire, and 'countess' Jazzna Griben."
Many scoffed at the titles, and palpable animosity filled the air. These two were clearly hated, and not one sympathetic face could be seen among the assembled ranks of Whitestone's people.
"You have been found guilty," the Keeper said sternly. "Of treason against this city, responsible for many innocent lives lost, and for furthering the plans of the Evil that has oppressed us so long." A growl of discontent rose from the men, assenting to his accusations, and the Keeper turned to Percy and the rest of us. "I would wish that you, the ones who freed us, deliver the judgment."
The faces of my brother's friends fell at the prospect, but Grog looked suddenly excited.
"No that sounds fair." The half giant said majestically, countering his companions lack of enthusiasm. Tilting his chin up in what was meant to be a Kingly pose, he continued, becoming by degrees more lost and befuddled amidst all the long words and legal phrasing he either didn't know, or didn't comprehend. "I've known to preside over many um...legal...matters in my time as...uhhh...Judgeface...of...Northwind..."
"Oh boy..." Scanlan said wearily, rolling his eyes.
"Define legal." Vax'ildan demanded.
"Define Judgeface." Keyleth challenged.
"No, no..." Grog said, holding up his hand. "It would just overwhelm all of you, it's all right."
"Grog, if I may," Scanlan said. "I can assist you in this if you like."
"Why of course, um..." And Grog floundered, once again getting into difficult terrain. "Subjudge.... Scanlan."
"Thank you Grog." Scanlan said dryly, turning to my brother next. "Percival this is your city, so if you want to."
"I leave it to you." Percy said with a hint of a grin, almost as if he was enjoying watching Grog struggle, and was curious to know what he would do. Crossing his arms, he waited for Grog and Scanlan muddle their way through the judgement,
"Well these two have done much violence to this place," Scanlan said, turning to look at the two prisoners, and adapting to the role of judge with much better grace than his large companion. "They represent all that is evil."
"Wait." Vedmire said, his eyes narrowing, as a dull intelligence not much sharper than Grog's endeavored to process some important thought. "I know you..."
"Never seen you before friend." Scanlan said, shaking his head, and adding with a wicked grin. "You have a lovely house by the way, or, had one. Might need a new roofer." He winked, and Vedmire subsided.
"Anyway," Scanlan said, giving himself a shake. "To show grace, and demonstrate the new hope for this place, I suggest that we don't kill these two."
"What?" Grog interrupted, genuinely disappointed.
"But rather, force them to help rebuild the place that they helped to destroy."
"In chains--" Vex began to insist.
"Yes, chains." Scanlan acceded
"Very heavy chains..." Vex gloated, shaking her head.
"Vedmire at least is extremely strong," Scanlan said. "And she must have some sort of skill..."
"Come closer," the half orc Jazzna snarled, her yellowed teeth bared. "I've never tasted gnome before."
"Well, maybe we'll kill her." Scanlan said doubtfully.
"What kind of weapons did these two have on them?" Grog asked the Keeper.
"Not entirely certain," Yennin replied. "However she's been known to carry a quiver or two, and this one wields a blade as long as his body."
"The Briarwoods are gone." Vax said, stepping forward to address Jazzna and Vedmire. "You can either die today, or you can take your licks and help to rebuild this city. No one is going to protect you or save you, but you can work hard, and start again."
"I accept." Vedmire said dully after a long expectant silence, and he turned to his female companion. "Jazzna?"
"It seems you lack what has kept me alive all these years: a spine." She growled. "Kill me, I'd rather not stay at your beck and call."
"Alright." And before anyone could stop him, Grog had swept out his ax, and lopped off the half orc's head. She collapsed backward with a wet thud, black blood staining the cobble stones of the town square, and cheers rose up from the men.
"Good people," Percy shouted, as Jazzna's head and body were both cleared away, and I swelled with pride to hear how well he spoke. "While we always must dispense our justice, this is now a town of mercy as well. I will expect nothing less from all of us, than to give what we have not had for so long."
"Let her's be the last blood shed." Scanlan agreed. The men slowly nodded, becoming more sober as the bloodthirsty cheers subsided.
"Duke," Percy said to Vedmire. "Earn your life again."
Roughly he was pulled away by the guards that had brought him, and as he was dragged off the festive air began to return. Slowly the crowd broke up, but the celebrations were far from over. Bonfires were lit in the streets, candles burned in the windows of houses, and tables were hauled out. Men took off their armor, Mothers brought out whatever evening meal they had been preparing, children that had been sheltered inside were allowed to play in the streets, filling the once deathly roads with laughter.
But better than that, overhead Keyleth's efforts had yielded a brief gleam of sunlight before the sun went down, and the Suntree was bathed in gold. Then the sun finally sank beneath the Alabaster Sierras in a blaze of gold fading to rich purple, and blue dusk fell. Warm firelight filled the streets, and a somewhere a fiddle was tuned up. Families and friends ate in the street, some sitting at tables, while others unable to secure a place, simply picnicked on the cobble stones in little groups and encampments.
Under the Suntree a long table was placed, laden with food until it groaned, and there Yennin and the rest of us ate. Around us the gaiety swirled, Scanlan was full of colorful stories, most of which were probably untrue, Grog drank so much I thought he was going to explode and still bellowed for more, Yennin himself drank a little and smiled more than I'd ever seen him do. Archibald, though by this time an extremely old man, hauled his old bones out as he said 'for a bit of talk and a smile.' Percy treated him like an uncle, giving him the best place at the table, and though he was very crotchety, we had both known him since we were children and could tell he enjoyed himself.
I myself had little to say amidst all the merry making. A long time ago I would have been a centerpiece, dancing with anyone who would take me, and singing the rest of the time. But I wasn't that girl anymore, and my happiness was of a quieter sort. I was still wounded, scarred by many blades, twisted by many poisonous words...and I was still a traitor...But for the moment my people were safe. My brother was alive, and that was all that mattered.