[Mkguild] Divine Travails of Rats - Pars IV. Infernus (a)

[C. Matthias]

Finally I begin posting Pars IV!  I manage to 
finish this part back in September but was so 
burned out that I have barely been able to get a 
writing regimen in since then.  I'm halfway 
through writing the next large scale section and 
I hope to get it finished up soon.  This section 
here will be the largest part of the story and in 
many ways was the most draining to write.

Recall that scenes set in 724 are 16 years after the current timeline.

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Metamor Keep: Divine Travails of Rats
by Charles Matthias and Ryx

Pars IV: Infernus

(a)


Tuesday, June 22, 724 CR – The Fall of Night


“It is getting late and I have been talking for 
some time,” Baron Matthias announced.

Charlie felt as if he'd been slapped across the 
other cheek, stinging no less than when his 
mother struck a few hours ago. “I am not going to 
wait for tomorrow after what you have just said!'

“And you aren't going to,” Charles put a hand to 
his throat and frowned. “I am parched and I am 
sure you must be famished. Let us have some 
refreshments brought and then we can continue. I will continue, my son.”

He wished that his sire would stop calling him 
that, no matter how true it was. He simmered 
quietly as he sat with arms crossed on the bench. 
But at last he nodded. “Fine, you have something brought. I'm not leaving.”

“Is there anything you'd like?”

He wanted to snap back some importune remark, but 
steadied himself, claws digging into his 
trousers. Charlie took a deep breath and had to 
admit that he was feeling hungry. There was a 
grumbling emptiness in his stomach that been 
there since he'd climbed down from the mage's 
tower, but his anger and shame had crowded it 
out. “Whatever can be found will be fine for me. 
I just want to hear this story. Because it seems 
like unless I indulge you I'm not going to learn any of these vast secrets.”

His sire sighed and shook his head. “You're 
young. You want the answer right away. It is as 
you have always been told. But if you want to 
understand why the answer is, you need to hear 
the story. You need to see what happened then, Charlie.”

“Fine,” Charlie groused and crossed his arms. 
“I'm sitting here waiting for the food and drink 
and then, with our repast, we can continue the 
story.” He grimaced at his tone and in a quieter voice added. “I am owed this.”

“Aye, you are,” Charles agreed as he stepped 
toward the door leading back into the sanctuary. 
“I will only be gone a moment, my son. Bishop 
Hough keeps a supply of food and drink for those 
in need. I will send him some of my stores in 
recompense.” So saying Charles slipped out the 
oaken door and gently closed it behind him. A 
faint whiff of sweet incense drifted through the 
air, and Charlie rubbed his snout and whiskers 
with one paw to rid his nose of it.

As he waited, Charlie took a moment to study the 
chamber in which they had hid from the Followers 
come to pray and adore. He sat upon one of the 
tiered benches where the schola practiced their 
chants or practiced with instruments, while on 
the front wall were cabinets for instruments, 
robes, candles and music. On the other three 
walls, the usual gray stone of Metamor greeted 
him, though not in its usual guise. Here, the 
walls had been coated in plaster by loving hands 
and frescoes painted. He could see a young 
dark-skinned human king dancing with lyre in his 
arms in the midst of a throng and an ancient 
city. Next to this was a host of winged men with 
bright and strong faced blowing long-fluted 
trumpets in the midst of a field of cloud 
overlooking a small stable in which Yanlin, 
Yosae, and the baby Yahshua could clearly be 
seen. He saw several other scenes from the life 
of Yahshua he recognized from his studies 
culminating in the death on the Yew, the 
Resurrection, and glorified return the Patildor 
hoped for. There were a few details he had 
difficulty discerning through the benches, and as 
he tried to lean over to get a better view of 
them he heard his sire returning followed by something large.

Baron Matthias returned with a pair of goblets in 
one hand and a corked bottle in the other. Behind 
him lumbered the giant, three-horned reptile, Sir 
Zachary. The Yesbearn knight held in his 
tree-trunk think arms a covered basket that 
reeked of savory meat and aged cheese. A patina 
of fruit and bread was mixed into the delectable 
bouquet, as well as the suggestion of something 
else he could not quite identify. The doorway was 
not large enough for Zacahary to fit through 
easily and so the Kharrakhaz knight waited there, 
one horn and the front of his beak beneath the 
lintel, watching and waiting with placid calm. 
His eye met Charlie and his beak opened in what 
must have been intended as a reassuring smile; 
Charlie nodded to him but could do no more.

After setting the goblets and corked bottle on 
the bench next to Charlie, he returned to the 
massive reptile and took the basket from his 
meaty hands. “Thank you, Sir Zachary. I'm sorry 
to have disturbed your prayers.”

“Think nothing of it, friend,” the knight replied 
in a deep voice that had a surprising nasal 
quality to it, as if he were honking some of his 
words. “If you need anything more, Father Felsah 
and I will be here for another hour, and then 
Father Patric will take our place.”

Charles cradled the basket and nodded his head as 
he stared up at the reptile. “Thank you, my 
friend. Give Father Felsah my thanks as well.”

“Eli be with you.”

“And with your spirit.”

The three-horned reptile pulled the door shut so 
gently that the only sound it made was the 
clicking of the latch. His footfalls did throb 
the floor as he walked away, but by then 
Charlie's attention was on the basket his sire 
carried. “Perhaps,” he admitted begrudgingly, “I 
was hungrier than I thought. That smells very good.”

“The bottle has some of the cider Bishop Hough 
taught the Brothers to make,” Charles said as he 
set the basket down and drew back the cover to 
reveal two loaves of bread, salted pork, two 
wedges of a very sharp cheddar, two peaches, and 
small pouches with a blend of spices. He spread 
the cover between them and then offered the 
basket to Charlie. “Divide this between us and I'll pour the cider.”

Since there were two of most things the division 
was a simple matter of taking each item from the 
basket and laying it on one side or the other of 
the linen cloth used to cover the basket and now 
smoothly draped over the bench like a peasant's 
table cloth. As Charlie split the meal he watched 
his sire slip a claw into the cork and twist it 
free with ease. Had Charlie tried that he would 
have nothing to show for it but a broken claw and 
a cork wedged more firmly in the bottle. At least 
his sire put his strange powers to good use from time to time.

After filling both goblets with the 
sweet-smelling cider, Charles tipped his back and 
swallowed half of it. A pleased sigh escaped his 
throat and his smiled at the edges of his snout. 
“Truly Bishop Hough's recipe never fails to 
please. Well, now that I have had something to 
drink, and I see you have arranged our meal, I am ready to continue.

“The bargain was struck but it was chicanery; a 
ruse to distract Nocturna long enough to open a 
way beyond her reach. And it worked. Your father 
helped me find my way into the Dreamland and to 
meet Nocturna face to face. That was my secret 
intent even if I did not understand what I truly 
intended. As I look back on it,” his sire mused 
as he sipped another small gulp of cider, “I must 
confess I believe that Nocturna knew more of what 
was happening in all of our lives than she ever 
admitted. Naturally I have no interest in 
learning that for myself. Your father and you may 
comport with her because of your ability to slip 
awake into dreams, but I have no such skill and 
thus no reason to converse with her again, though 
before all of this was over I did speak to her one last time.”

Charlie sniffed at one of the small pouches of 
spices and detected a blend of rosemary and 
thyme. He sprinkled some onto his salted pork and 
cheese before breaking a chunk free of each to 
eat with the bread. “So where did you go if not 
to Nocturna's realm? Where could you go that the 
Mistress of Dreams could not reach?”

“I went...” Charles' shoulders slumped for a 
moment and his entire posture seemed to collapse 
inward. His eyes stared as if he were seeing all 
of the Valley and more in a single glance. The 
rat's tail curled around his legs as if 
protecting them. His tunic fell open at the top 
revealing the scar of stone across his chest. His 
whiskers drooped and his ears lowered as if he were in mourning.

And then he shook his head and downed the last of 
his goblet. “Forgive me... it is not a place I 
ever wish to see again. It is a place no man 
should ever wish to go. With each step it grew 
more terrible and with each step what shreds of 
hope a man had would be abandoned forever.

“Because, my son, I had stepped across a bridge 
from the Dreamlands into the very Hells themselves.”

Charlie swallowed, his whole being suddenly cold. 
His ears lifted and turned toward his sire so that not a word would be missed.

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May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love,

Charles Matthias
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