To Wield Our Past

JP with Omni and LucianNepreen
Greyriver Steading
A glint of recognition lit up her eyes at the sight of the claw, Voah’s mood lifted slightly, a smirk of remembrance pulling the corner of her lips. “Ah, that old thing,” she remarked playfully, nodding toward the claw.

They’d been through many dangers together, and somehow Tarmen and Alexis were always there to get her out of a pinch in some way or another.

She grinned and couldn’t resist a small chuckle, knowing he would take her next remark with good humor.

“At least… thrice(?) you have been my savior. Go on then. The least I can do is listen to you ramble on.”

He let the jest settle as he grinned in return, though it didn’t last long.

“Feel honored. A thousand tales follow this claw, yet you will be the first to hear the truth.”

He held a dramatic pause out of habit before beginning. No hesitation now; if anyone deserved the truth out of him, it was her.

“In truth there isn’t much story. Just a boy too young to know when he is bait on his first job. Not until he looked into a man's eyes and saw the same look a hunter gives his best laid trap. He had seen hardships, eaten vermin, and already killed by then, but always havin’ a thought that he belonged. That he was valued in some demented way. Until then.”

Tarmen twirled the claw, lost in his memories as he sought for a truth he had buried more times than he could count.

“The boss didn’t live long enough to see his handiwork though. Turned out he was on the wrong side of the trap, makin’ his getaway an execution and feed.”

His hand suddenly clutched the claw hard, a reflex of conjuring one of his deepest nightmares, though his demeanor remained calm and solemn.

“Twice the length of a man it was... and up to my waist. Nothin’ but scaled muscle and teeth, yet moved like lightnin’. A rare beast indeed, one the scholars of the Empire would make you believe died out long ago, but they're still there.”

Voah watched Tarmen intently as he retold the haunting memory.

He moved the claw several inches from his face, still not looking at Voah, but well aware of how to position so she could see.

“It got this close to me, when it was at its most tempered. I have retold this part so many times, changin’ it so my pants weren’t so full of shit, but instead of a triumphant lunge for freedom, or a savage takin’ his place at the top of the food chain, I got this beauty because the beast fought too greedily to get me. It dislodged a rock and wedged its finger, rippin’ it right off. I fully believe it wasn’t wantin’ food after that, but revenge for such a wound. It finally gave up after the night passed.”

Tarmen shifted in his seat, finally making eye contact with someone he had never felt closer to.

“I chose to live by my own terms then. If the world wanted me dead so badly, then the world could kiss my arse. There is a part of me that still feels that way. The way you, Alexis, and Gonyaul so openly… give a damn, is still so foreign to me.”

He looked back to the moon, breathing a now regular sigh full of weight.

“But now I want peace. I have also come to want that peace for others. Here and at home. I just don’t have a clue how.”

His face had fully softened by this point. Instead of the tired, wise-cracking, angry, brawler Voah had known, the moon illuminated a face full of regrets, of fear, and of a deep longing. He paused, to let the thought sink in now that he had finally voiced it to someone else and unsure what else he could say or if he had said enough.

Voah pitied the man, for he had led a hard life. She at least had something of a childhood before it was stolen away. Tarmen may have appeared tired or weak to someone else, but his vulnerability, his truth only made her respect and appreciate the man that much more. She placed a hand on his shoulder and met his gaze.

“Let me start off by acknowledging that I AM honored... to already know that side of you that no one has ever seen. The side that shared my fears and waking nightmares in the darkest of places.”

Then she looked off toward the moon.

“The truth of tales are rarely as glorious as they seem in their retelling. You clearly made it out of that incident with more than just that claw. You’re a man of survival… and win or lose, terrified or confident, I’ve never seen you back down from a challenge. Not on Sentinel. Not beneath Fang. Not in Aquilo... Peace…” She sighed with a forlorn chuckle. “That’s the real challenge, nnn? A dream we scarcely experience and understand. We wouldn’t know what to do with it would we? Peace…”

She shook her head again. What was it Vastad had said?

“To be prepared for war is one of the most effective means of preserving peace.”

Voah removed the Holy Blade from its sheath and held it before him to hold. “We live and die by the sword. This blade has ever been my peacemaker. If only for brief moments.”

There was a special meaning behind presenting one’s weapon for those of Kru’ll. To allow your closest possession, your lifeline, and often your closest friend, to be held by another was a trust rarely seen. One not lost on Tarmen as he looked to the blade that once had the chance to kill him.

He also recalled his moment with the stone outside of Gra’akast, a holy relic that had no effect to his touch. Gingerly grasping the hilt of the sword, Tarmen felt a small thrum travel through him, but could only assume it was the booze and his thoughts making him imagine it.

Finally holding the weapon, he was surprised by the weight, a bit more than what would be expected, but even then it felt like holding a mere dagger. A marvel of craftsmanship truly.

“Some call it bravery, I offer stupidity as a better answer, but I appreciate your meanin’. You and the boy both have a way of doin’ that, you know? He said damn near the same thing.”

While thinking of Gon’yaul brought worry, he focused on the talk they had. Gonyaul had spoken about Tarmen being a good man. Even hearing it from Voah he still doubted it, but it seemed everyone had said something to that effect so far. Maybe he was the one who was wrong after all.

While he still held the sword, he began to feel something else... something that unnerved him greatly, ending the moment as he gratefully returned the sword to its rightful owner.

“A peculiar blade, as unique as its wielder.”

Tarmen didn’t know it, but the faint thrum he had felt was from the blade’s innate inclination to repel magik. The sword granted its wielder protection from all but the most potent spells.

As for the other feeling… Something imperceptible had stirred in the air… it was a feeling like the world had shifted or opened and some ineffable presence had turned its eye on Tarmen. Something akin to a predator peering through the jungle leaves, as if measuring a new animal that has entered its domain.

Voah nodded slightly, acknowledging the depth of trust Tarmen had shown by accepting the blade. She carefully took the Holy Sword back, her touch reverent, as she sheathed it once more. His reaction to the weapon did not escape her notice.

“Peculiar indeed. Far beyond mere metal and craft,” she said quietly. “It carries with it a terrible legacy, a burden of dark and dire choice… and sacrifice. A wretched and cursed weapon, yet sanctified by the Pillars. I wield it with both pride and disdain.”

He grimly chuckled, looking to the ground as her words brought a thought. The night had been cathartic for Tarmen, letting things fall into place that had for so long been whirling around his mind.

"Ain't we all. Weapons of fortune and misery. Another fact of life I have been needin' to see differently, yet you just might have the answer for it... To wield our past with pride and disdain, willin' to work towards changin' a terrible legacy into what you will it."

Voah smiled and nodded in agreement.

Having reached such a conclusion while riding the ends of booze, Tarmen felt he had found some grand secret of the world and felt oddly calm.

"I am grateful to know you Voah. All of you, really, but I want you to know my vow from Aquilo remains. I will follow you to the end of the world."

Voah's voice carried a gentle sincerity as she responded, "You honor me, Tarmen." She held his hand for a moment, her eyes full of quiet gratitude for his unwavering support despite her ambivalence to her oaths since Aquilo.

She appreciated having someone who stood by her, especially now, as she prepared for the decisions that lay ahead. Decisions she planned to reveal to the group the next day, about Ereuhin's warnings and the paths she must choose—not to seek Gonyaul, as it would seal his fate, and her directive to no longer hide but to seek out Sir Zane, as ordained by the Moon Mother.

She sighed and looked to Ereuhin, waxing in the eastern sky. “Let us talk more on the morrow. Nnn? It’s getting quite late now.”