Frays in the Weave

Vengenance, part one

In her mind she thanked Karia. She owed him more than he could ever guess. Truly he was no halfman. His humour and make pretend stupidity kept her sane when otherwise she would have broken. No human should kill this much and not feed once. Prey lived to be eaten. They were precious and it grated in her consciousness to kill only for the killing.

She didn't even have coins as an excuse. Halfmen did. They could argue almost any deed was worth doing if only the money was right, or power. She couldn't. That was not her world.

She owed Karia more than her own sanity. Of the men sworn to him less than half lived. They had fought like true humans and died to keep his promise. She should have known of course. His was a strange lot. Every summer they fought her own on equal terms in the snow where humans had the benefit of strength as well as resistance to cold. She had heard rumours of the halfmen warriors but always discarded them as exaggerations. No halfman born took up arms against those odds, or so she believed. Now she knew she was wrong. Those who valued loyalty higher than life would. It was almost like honour Just a different kind, this loyalty.

So much to learn about the world. So many years squandered protecting her honour That way lay ignorance, and in its wake followed a danger she was only grasping the edges of.

First vengeance, though. After that she had an entire life to learn and relearn. A vague feeling of disapproval settled in her mind, but she firmly pushed it aside. All great humans had met with disapproval, and she slowly understood why. There were truths that hurt and secrets buried deep inside human ways. The greatest maybe that halfmen lived lives so short they were forced to learn that much faster, and so, as a whole, they had learned more than humans. If her kind didn't catch up a day would come when this world had no place for them. Just a different kind of the hunters game, and prey who didn't learn became meals.

She growled a laughter and released a full burst from her predator's glands. Prey! She had seen her own become prey even before they left Braka. Those villages would be nothing but broken wrecks by now.

Random thoughts flew through her mind as she gathered grass. Time to make a nest. She would burrow deep inside it and sleep. Tomorrow her fur would need cleaning. Picking straws took a long time, but she didn't care. The need to grow young again, if only for a single night was too strong. She wished she could nestle into her mother's embrace. Memories of days lost flashed through her, and smells of safety, and love.

***

Infinity and nothingness changed places. He was everywhere and in between, and then he was elsewhere. Harbend had forgotten just how strong Escha was. Jumping with him was becoming a little bit like the sleeping gods Escha used.

Borrowed a tiny bit of the gift from, Escha said. He always refused talking about the gift as something you used. Only a loan, and all loans had to be paid in full or else you died. Harbend didn't really understand, but then he wasn't a mage.

He looked up and remembered. The Sea of Grass. This was where he had spent one glorious season with Nakora. Wonderful memories. Hurtful memories. She was gone, forever.

"Where are we?" he asked. Idiot question!

Escha looked back as if to answer the question. Instead he only shook his head and smiled. He nodded south and a wide path cleared in front of them. There was more than one way to use the gift.

Harbend followed in Escha's steps. They would walk the last bit. There was no reason to arrive too close to Gring, even if she was a mindwalker.