Elegy for a Star

Miri watched the ongoing conversation between Tess and Gwendolyn. The conversation was uncomfortable. Tess had been trying to get close to Gwendolyn, but the knight was avoiding her attempts. Miri registered so much shame coming from Gwen. She looked near to tears at every moment, but just barely held things back. Tess was quiet, patient, waiting for Gwendolyn to feel up to talking.

There was something that wrenched at Miri’s heart, seeing the two of them communicate wordlessly. Gwendolyn showed that she was hurting; Tess supporting.

Miri thought back to the conversation that she and Tess had before Gwendolyn showed up. It made her ill to think about how much she had to lie to get Tess to drop the questioning. It was best for the both of them though, especially Tess. Miri ached. She had to lie to Tess so much. She didn’t expect it to be this hard, but she had to. For her. For Tess. She would do anything for Tess. She owed her everything.

“Performance,” Miri thought. It was easy to assume what that might mean and Tess was no exception to that trap. Miri could only sigh.

“I’m sorry, Tess,” she thought, “But it’s for your own good.”

She watched the scene of Tess and Gwen. It was going to be silent for a while. Gwen wasn’t ready to talk; Tess wasn’t going to push her.

“Do you want to go for a walk?”

Miri turned to the side to find a man wrapped in cloth and rags. These wrapping hid most of his face, all except for his yellow eyes and nose. Even still, it was plain to see that his face was scarred up with more than a dozen deep cuts that left him with deep crags in his skin. Miri knew that they caused him pain. She long since stopped feeling bad for him.

“Why if it isn’t the almighty Crow Lord,” Miri said, rising to her feet and gesticulating a praising motion, “A walk with you? Fuck off.”

“I thought we should speak without this distraction,” Nym replied, “I felt it would be more comfortable for you. I know how emotional you can get.”

Miri ground her teeth. Damn this man.

“Fine, where to?”

“Home, I suppose,” spoke the darkly wrapped man.

Miri groaned, “You mean your home. Hasn’t been mine for… gods, ages now.”

“Centuries, yes,” Nym bobbed his head, “I tidied up, you should see the place.”

Miri couldn’t help but laugh at that one, “Sure. Let’s go.”

“I’ll meet you there,” he replied, vanishing into smoke.

Miri took a last look at Gwendolyn and Tess. This better not be a mistake. She floated through the walls, entering and passing through a number of other rooms until she lifted herself into the sky. Yes, Tess thought she was limited to her own perception, and while that may be true in the Void, it wasn’t true here.

With the speed of thought, Miri flew hundreds of miles until she wound up in western Sevarra, just East of the Branch of the Sword, past a little down called Mistburn. That’s where she grew up. What a simpler time that was. Miri knew her family had long since passed, but she wondered what their short lives were like. She didn’t know them for long. Father, mother, brothers and sisters. Gods, she couldn’t even remember how many siblings she had.

She slipped just past Mistburn and into the woods beside it, passing through the canopy and ending up in a small grove concealed by branches, ivy and vines.

Her surroundings were mostly empty. She looked about the place, reminiscing about times long gone, before she slipped through the floor. Miri flew straight through what was usually a winding passageway, completely impalpable. When she reached the bottom she found herself in a large, uneven cave dwelling. Wooden platforms were set up to make ascent or descent throughout the cave easier, bracing the ceiling with thick beams, or forming different rooms.

Others were present, eating their meals or discussing with one another; Telling tales of rumors they’d heard in the Magocracy or gloating about some big score of theirs. When she manifested into their vision, they startled, drawing knives and daggers.

“I’m here at his request. Stand down or you’ll see your own guts,” Miri replied.

“It’s true. Stand down,” Nym replied, appearing behind Miri.

She was never faster than him before. He must be getting slow in his old age. She chuckled at the thought that the Crow Lord would allow himself to age. She supposed she had just gotten faster.

The men that accosted her sheathed their blades and bowed their heads to Nym as he and Miri passed.

“We’ll go to my office,” Nym replied.

Miri smirked, “Oh, you have an office now?”

“We have beds, too.”

Miri scoffed, “No wonder your flock is getting soft. You’re going easy on them.”

Nym nodded his head, “Perhaps.”

Miri was led into the Crow Lord’s dwelling. The door opened, leading to a fine chamber. It was similar to a false bottom of a treasure chest, though. For one that was approved, passing through the doorway brought them elsewhere. As she and Nym slipped through the door, Miri’s vision darkened and she found herself in a Void Pocket. This one had been separated from the Black Sun, stolen like anything else the Crow Lord would steal. Eventide didn’t even know where this one was.

She looked around the room—decadent and rich—finding it to be full of cases of artifacts, each one stolen and each one more incredible than the last.

The Book of Fallen Kings that detailed the corruption of the Empire that led to a terrible, bloody coup and the reign of a false ruler.

The antidote to the poison that the Storm King suffered from, immobilizing him deep beneath the oceans. This would be even more impressive were it not Nym that poisoned the Storm King in the first place.

Ozha’s carving knife, a blade made of empowered coral, which the merfolk used to form the contours of the ocean floor.

Perhaps most impressive of all was in a glass container, shining light upon the room. The Archfey Sorscha’s heart, queen of the Fey. Most amazing about this theft is that it wasn’t her physical heart, but the emotional core. Miri had always respected that about Nym. He could steal anything, no matter if it was physical or metaphorical.

“So what do you want?” Miri asked, trying to hide the nostalgic feeling that she had at this moment.

Nym replied, “I miss my little nestling. Could I not invite you here just to spend time with you?”

“No,” Miri replied, “And you know it. I know it. You don’t feel like that. You never did. So stop toying and let’s get on with it.”

The Crow Lord nodded his head in understanding, “I’m going to light some incense, if you do not mind.”

“Go wild,” Miri replied.

Nym began this process, opening a golden ball and sprinkling various herbs into it. As he lit it and replaced the porous lid, he spoke, “I’d heard you came back. Did you enjoy your little sojourn with Eventide?”

“Not particularly,” Miri responded, crossing her arms beneath her chest.

“And I’d heard you’re with…” Nym snapped his fingers a few times, feigning forgetfulness.

“Tess,” Miri replied.

“Ah, right,” he said with a nod, inhaling some of the smoke from the incense, “You know, this is the second home you’ve fled from. Don’t you think it’s time to look inward a bit?”

“I have. I had no choice when it came to you. You stole me and fucked my head up. And you know why I went to Eventide,” She looked around, “Where’s Missi? You get her killed yet?”

“She’s on the job. Back to the topic.”

“Well, I had no choice with you. I had no control, no agency to say yes or no,” Miri replied.

“I saved you from an early death. A meaningless life,” Nym explained, “I blessed you with sapience and you are angry at me for it?”

“You and Her both.”

“Tch,” Nym scoffed, shaking his head, “Were it not for that, the Black Sun would’ve eaten us already. Don’t forget that.”

Miri couldn’t. He was right about that part, “Just… What do you want, Nym? Let’s get this over with.”

“If you’d like,” Nym replied, “We need to talk about Eventide, Krahe.”

END OF BOOK ONE