[Mkguild] Divine Travails of Rats - Pars VI. Acceptio (n) - THE END

[C. Matthias]

This is the final part of the story that Ryx and 
I have been working on for the last two 
years.  I'm sorry it has taken so long to share 
but here is its final moments.  Do let me know 
what you thought of the tale!  Some thoughts of 
my own to follow tomorrow.  Thank you to everyone 
who has shared this journey with us over the years!

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

Pars VI: Acceptio

(n)


Wednesday, June 23, 724 CR, Evening


This was not the Temple, Charlie realized when he 
opened his eyes and stared up at the wispy 
moonlit silver of mares' tails scratched across 
the star dappled darkness above. A breeze 
whispered across his whiskers, cooling the edges 
of his ears and filling them with the quiet 
rattle of leafless branches. At his back was a 
cold hardness; no bed, nor table or bench, but stone.

Something cracked in the darkness, a 
reverberating peal of thunder that whipped away 
the clouds and sent the bracken into a frenzy of 
fearful rattling. The fullness of the moon gazed 
down upon him, occluded by two forms that towered 
above him though only one cast a shadow. To his 
right towered a feathered pillar of fearsome 
black, slender arms ending in taloned hands that 
clawed at the night. To his left a shorter form, 
stout and familiar, looking up at the black monument of feathers and terror.

“A soul for a soul in return, mistress.” The 
shorter form spoke, his voice hardened with 
resolve but torn beneath with the choice he made. “That is what I offer.”

Another voice gasped in the moonlit darkness but 
Charlie could not see the speaker, decrying the 
bargain being struck. The raven held up an arm, 
fingers splayed in a halting gesture toward the 
unseen plaintiff. Charlie could only gaze up at 
the two; rat and raven glaring at one another 
over the stone upon which he lay, immobile and 
mute. His sire lowered his head slowly, bringing 
his gaze down upon him, and Charlie saw the pain 
within his dark eyes. But there was something 
else, both within and without that gaze. A 
hardness, a resolve, but neither was truly of the 
rat that bore them. At his side a shadow 
shimmered, vaguely rat-like in form but as much 
misty serpent whispering into one of the rat’s 
ears. As Charlie gazed into the grief of his 
father’s gaze he saw his eyes harden, the muscles 
of his jaws clench as he came to the culmination of a path chosen.

“This is what I offer,” Charles said, without 
looking up, reaching out one hand as if to touch 
his abandoned son. The shifting darkness at his 
side became more substantial at the resolve in 
Charles’ voice, pressing closer, casting its dark 
shadow across him, all the while whispering into his ear.

“The bargain is struck.” The raven croaked 
flatly, as if both pleased and offended that her 
demands would be considered at all, much less 
met. “The exchange is agreed.” To seal the 
bargain the raven’s head darted forward, easily 
twice the size of the rat's head toward which it 
struck. But when her beak snapped shut it was not 
upon Charlie’s father, but rather the shadow 
whispering in his ear. Blood glistened, lingering 
in the air an inch from the closed beak, but the 
source of the blood was no longer present.

In the instant the razor's edge of the beak 
closed the shadow at Charles’ ear expanded, 
losing form as it enshrouded the rat, and he was 
simply gone. The raven reared upright, her vast 
wings flaring wide, and that hanging drop of 
blood landed upon the stone near Charlie with a quiet pat.

“Where did he go?” A surprised voice called out. 
A new form appeared at Charlie’s right side, but 
not that of a rat. The tall, slender frame of his 
adoptive father strode into view, looking at the 
ground as if it had become a predator of rats.

“Where he must.” The raven croaked quietly.

“Where?!” Malger demanded again, glaring up at 
the taller bird. “He needs my escort here, his 
Dream is too deep! He cannot wake before danger, here!”

“He is not Here.”

“Where, then, has he gone? Let me go to him, 
Nocturna!” Frightfully bold, the marten, making 
demands of a goddess. But she was also, on these 
realms, as much a wife as he could have. He was 
not her equal, but in some ways he was more 
powerful even than she, because life beat within his breast.

“You cannot, love. You are bound here. He has 
gone beyond; deeper. He has crossed the Bridge to Lilith’s domain.”

Malger’s jaw dropped, aghast, his entire posture 
horrified, and furious. “She will kill him!”

“She will not.” Nocturna shook her head slowly. 
“She, truly, can not. He has a guardian to see 
him safely through to the end of his quest. It 
girds his mortal soul from the touch of any of 
Us, light and dark alike. I cannot strip that 
from him; only he can cast it off.”

Malger finally seemed to realize what his Goddess 
was saying, his posture growing stiff. “The 
shadow, again? It has attempted to take them all; 
only he remains.” He raised a hand to his brow 
and groaned. “And I brought him on this path!”

“All found the paths upon which to take their journey, my dear.”

“I must awake, the others need to be warned.”

“Tell only one, Malger, who awaits with you. He 
has prepared, and knows what to do.”

“What of him?” Malger finally sighed, looking 
down at Charlie for the first time, worry writ 
plain upon his angular muzzle. He was younger, 
here, less hardened by his life of politics and 
intrigue. “Has Charles truly abandoned his son to you?”

“Has he?” Charlie found himself speaking, but 
there were none to speak to. Malger was gone, as 
was the towering form of the Raven.

“No.” A voice far softer than the bird reached 
his ears and Charlie sat up. He found that he had 
been lying upon the same altar that he had seen 
his father place him upon; an offering to 
Nocturna. He sighed and bowed his head, for all 
that he had witnessed was true, it had come to fruition.

His father's tale, vast and powerful, could not 
take away the bargain. He had been sacrificed for a ghost.

“And, yet, you were not.” The same voice again, 
gently admonishing. Charlie raised his gaze to 
find a rat standing between the stones where once 
the Raven had towered. Black of coat and blue of 
eye she wore a simple, if elegant, gown of 
shimmering black silk. Such was always Nocturna’s 
choice of costume for the realm of Dreams was a 
place with little color save what those who dreamed brought with them.

Charlie swept an arm across the top of the tor, 
taking in the massive stone plinths and altar 
stone upon which he sat, “What, then, is this if 
not a place of sacrifice? Of bargains? Of selling and purchasing?”

“It is a place like any other, Charlie.” Nocturna 
admonished softly, “Like a fountain or a 
crossroads or a market stall. Simply a place.” 
She did not approach any closer than the ring of 
stones, her hands clasped demurely before her 
stomach. This was the first time in all of his 
years that Charlie had seen her take on the guise 
of a rat. It struck him profoundly and he found himself gasping at it.

Nocturna, a being of the Dreams as much as its 
Deity, was not limited to a single aspect; she 
was change, malleable to her own whim and the 
needs of the dream. For Malger she had once been 
human in appearance, unchanging, until he himself 
had lost the form he had been born to and became 
a pine marten. So she had changed, for his sake, 
assuming the forms of many species in his Dreams, save for a few.

Since the curse took Malger she had never against 
assumed the form of a human. Since Misanthe had 
come to his side she had never against become a 
fox. Since Charles had become his son she had not 
become a rat – until now, in his painful dream.

“WHY?” He rasped, slapping the stone. “Why did 
you bring him to do this? To give me to you?!”

“He did not, Charlie. He never did.”

“Then why am I on this bedamned stone?” He 
slapped the altar again, glaring at her.

“I planted a seed, a thought, an idea of a 
realization that must come, in time.”

Charlie rolled his eyes and slid off the stone. 
After a moment glaring down at it he reached down 
to grasp its edge with both hands. Despite being 
as massive as a castle gate he flung it up and 
cast it away, but only as far as the circle of 
stones. It slammed against the plinths with a 
muted crash and fell to the earth, broken into 
halves. “What are you blathering about, 
Nocturna?” He snarled without looking at her, 
glaring instead at the broken stone.

The matronly black mouse did not take affront at 
his angry boldness and momentary tantrum. “You 
are a Dreamer, Charlie. It was born to you, as it 
was to Malger. But you lacked a very important 
path to its realization that Malger had.”

Crossing his arms over his chest Charlie turned 
to lean his hip against the empty pedestal upon 
which the altar stone had rested. “What was that?”

“A corrupt priest.” Nocturna shrugged her 
feminine shoulders, long tail swaying back and 
forth in the darkness behind her.

“A what?”

“Malger was brought up into Eli’s House, he knew 
nothing of the Pantheon. Nothing of the Dreams 
into which he could stride, unknowing. Had he 
kept the Yew the darkness of his sleep would have 
driven him mad, despite what I was teaching him.” 
Nocturna finally paced slowly into the ring of 
stones, her fingers trailing lightly along the 
edge of one half of the altar slab where it 
rested propped against the plinth that broke it. 
“But he was turned away from Eli by darkness in 
another, the very Priest of his sire’s House. His 
anger at that corruption opened his heart and 
mind to my touch, and my instruction, though he knew me not.”

“You were Mosha to him, then.”

“And ever would I have been, but for that skunk, Murikeer.”

“Who brought all of this about.” Once more 
Charlie waved a hand to take in the henge.

“In passing, but that was his fate.” Nocturna 
paced slowly about within the limits of the stone 
circle. “But Malger had earned that love long 
before Murikeer forced my hand, in taking from me a mighty burden.”

“This still does not answer my question, 
Nocturna.” Charlie muttered with a frown, 
watching the Goddess of Dreams pace a wide circle 
around him. “Why did you force Charles to choose between me and a ghost.”

“No, Charlie, he never chose. He fought, with 
every last fiber of his very being, and continues 
to fight to this day. It was the shadow that 
chose, not its bearer. You know this already for 
you have heard it from him.” Nocturna’s voice 
took on some of the crushing power that Charlie 
had sensed from the Raven; the Presence of a 
deity speaking down upon a mere mortal who 
challenged it. His heart skipped a beat and 
Charlie wilted a little under her flat stare. 
“But you lacked an escape, Charlie. The seed had 
to be planted, for what you are could not be 
embraced by what you would have been.”

“Riddles.” Charlie scoffed, though with less vehemence.

“You would have been of Eli’s House, Charlie. You 
would have lacked the influence of a corrupt 
touch to make you question that faith. And, yet, 
you would have been a Dreamer as your father is, 
nonetheless.” Nocturna stopped pacing, her hand 
resting lightly upon the aged stone face of a 
plinth at which her piercing blue gaze was 
directed. “The dichotomy weighed heavily even 
upon Malger, though he was growing ever more 
distant from the Ecclesia at the time due to the 
evil of one man. Even had I come to you, in time 
your faith would have pushed me away, and yet you would still Dream.”

“As Malger has told me, many times, over the 
years. It would have driven me mad.”

“To the deeper grief of your sire, dam, and 
family than they now suffer, as you fell apart 
before them and they could do nothing to help 
because they would never have known the reason of 
it. The loss of Ladero was a distant wound, 
suffered long after the blade had fallen. But it 
cut deeply, its agony keen, and its injury was so 
grievous it left a place for the shadow to 
fester. But your loss, protracted over time and 
lack of understanding, would have been a fierce 
bludgeon that would have crushed his spirit. And 
in so doing, it would have devastated the 
entirety of your family.” Nocturna turned her 
gaze from the stone toward him, one arm slowly 
waving to encompass the scene. “So, I had to 
plant the seeds of knowledge within his heart, 
even as the shadow sought to corrupt his soul to its own ends.”

“So that he could give me up?”

“So that he would know why he must, and he could, 
and not lose you to the madness which would have 
come otherwise.” Coming forward the Goddess 
rested a hand lightly upon his shoulder, her eyes 
incongruously blue against the black fur and 
flesh of her rat face. “All he lost in the 
bargain was your name, Charlie. He never lost his 
son. But, in the end, it was never for his own 
peace that I led him to bring you to me.” Her 
hand dropped, touching the tip of one finger over 
his heart before drawing away. “It was for you, and this one moment.”

Charlie raised a single brow, his scalloped ears 
cupping forward. “This moment? What of it?”

“This is the moment of choosing, Charlie. Lune or 
Yew, you can choose.” She turned slightly, 
raising her gaze toward the ever present moon 
that hung over Her realm. “I can take away that 
which keeps you from your sire.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I can take the Dream, Charlie.” Nocturna admitted softly. “If you ask.”

Charlie leaned back upon the pedestal, struck 
dumb by that one simple statement. “You can?” He 
gaped, aghast. “You could, had I ever asked?!” 
Slowly Nocturna nodded, not turning her gaze from 
the moon. “Why, then, did you never tell me?”

“Because you never asked, Charlie. And because it 
would have cost me a son, myself.”

Charlie’s muzzle opened to speak, but no words 
escaped. His thoughts reeled and stumbled about 
within his mind and all he could do for several 
moments was blink, muzzle opening to speak only 
to close without a word emerging. He stepped away 
from the pedestal and paced away from Nocturna. 
“What son? I’ve never known you to harbor 
children as the other aedra or daedra have.”

“I have, twice before.” Nocturna admitted. “The 
first I surrendered to Man that he might Dream, 
eons ago when the Pantheon was young. Another to 
one I thought was a kindred spirit, but I was 
duped and she was stolen away from me.” Her voice 
trailed off with a sigh, tail stilling and ears 
backing upon her black head. “I see her yet, though she does not know me.”

“And, the son?”

Nocturna turned to look over her shoulder, one brow raised. “You, Charlie.”

Charlie scowled, arms crossing upon his breast. “I am not your son, Nocturna.”

She nodded, “Not of flesh or spirit, but through 
the Dream, and Malger your father, I have known 
you from the earliest of your years. Had not 
Malger stolen the burden of grief from my 
shoulders I would never have had concern for your 
life, Charlie. I would have taken you or let you 
languish into madness without concern, but for 
his interference. Because I forced him to 
acknowledge me as I am, and not the guise of 
Mosha, I have been forced to bring you to know me 
as well.” She turned finally, to meet his 
incredulous stare, one hand resting over her 
heart. “And in so bringing you to know me, I have 
been brought to know you.” Turning her hand from 
its place over her heart she reached out to touch 
Charlie's breast over his own heart. “You are, then, a son to me.”

Charlie could only chuff, stunned at that admission, lost for words.

All of what she had done, to bring him to this moment.

“I can choose?”

“Yes, Charlie.” Nocturna nodded slowly. “I can 
grant the gift, and I can take it away.”

“You gave it to me in the first place?”

“Not by direct intention, no. I offered up my 
first born child that mortals could Dream as you 
and your father do. In that, yes, I gifted the 
Dream to you. But I did not reach out and give it to you as I did Misanthe.”

“Then how did I get this, Nocturna? My sire, my 
dam, their entire line
 none of them bent to the Pantheon.”

“Nor did Malger’s, yet still he Dreams, as did others in his lineage.”

“You can
 let me be as Charles would have wished? A normal son, like Erick?”

Frowning, Nocturna nodded. Charlie noticed that 
her hands clutched each other more tightly upon 
the stomach of her black gown. “Yes, Charlie.”

“Can you take something else?”

Her eyes came up and she tilted her head slightly. “Something else?”

“The Nightmare.”

Nocturna’s brows drew down slightly, confusion 
making her whiskers twitch. “You bear them, 
Charlie, as they are a Dreamer’s duty.”

“No, Nocturna, not my Nightmare. My father’s; 
Charles. You gave them, can you not take them away?”

“Guilt gives them, Charlie, not I. He decries me 
more than I believe he does any of the Pantheon, 
moreso even than the Daedra, for what he feels I have done to him.”

“Because of what he was, has been, forced to do!” 
Charlie pleaded. “And he suffers for it! This 
dream, this place, plagues him such that I was 
pulled into it. I have felt how it tears at him!”

Nocturna tilted her head slightly and raised both 
brows, the pink flesh of her black furred ears 
pinning forward. “You ask that I take his nightmares? What of your Dream?”

Striding forward Charlie reached out and rested 
both hands upon her shoulders. “I am yours, 
Nocturna. Did you take the Dream I would still 
be, for I have known you as both goddess and 
matron; mother. But my sire has been tortured 
enough. Please, take these dreams from him.” 
Stepping back slightly he dropped his hands from 
her shoulders and moved to bend a knee before 
her. “Give him peace and I will offer my soul to you, freely.”

Surprisingly strong hands for such a petite frame 
captured Charlie’s upper arms before he could 
kneel, holding him upright. “Peace is his, 
Charlie. I cannot take from him his sense of 
guilt, but I can take the dreams that dredge it 
up afresh.” Releasing his upper arms she moved 
her hands to his shoulders and held him at their 
length. “I have never asked your father to bow 
before me, Charlie, as a supplicant to my sphere. 
I will not ask it of you, either. Your soul is 
yours.” With a smile pulling at the corners of 
her muzzle her blue eyes twinkled. “And, you know 
Me, as you do your mothers both, and only beyond 
that as a goddess. No faith will ever bar you 
from that knowledge, no matter how closely you 
cleave. If you turn your gaze toward Eli you will 
not close yourself to me. I will be here for you, always.”

“And I for you, Mother.”

The dark-furred rat allowed her smile to stretch 
nearly the full length of her muzzle. “Thank you, 
my son.” Her hand touched the fur at his cheek 
much as his mother did to show affection when in 
the public eye. For a moment it seemed she might 
do more, but then she turned her gaze toward a 
moonlit path leading away from the plinths. “Are you ready?”

She did not need to ask any further. “I am, Mother. And, for my father?”

Her smile did not waver. “He will sleep in peace 
from this night forward, my son.”

Charlie sighed and smiled. “Thank you.” He took a 
step toward the plinths, and then passed through 
to the path beyond. A few steps and he turned to 
look back, but plinths, shattered table, and the 
rat who was Nocturna were gone. Only the bright 
moon remained to cast its silver glow upon the 
land of dreams. He would not see the dread bargain again.

“I have so many mothers!” He chortled to himself 
as he returned to his nightwatch over the dreams of Keepers.

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Thursday, June 24, 724 CR, Ere the Dawn


Charlie rose early the next morning before either 
Hogue or Jackson could stir him. He slipped on 
his robe and quietly made his way through the 
fresh thrushes, tiptoeing past his body servants 
as they slumbered on their cots between his 
quarters and the hall. The whole house was 
silent; not even Jeremias the Chandler was up to 
light the hall lamps. As a rat Charlie did not 
need the extra light and knew every passage in the Sutt home by heart.

But his nose did detect a familiar musk that had 
recently trod the hall. He followed the scent out 
to the main family hall and smiled when he saw 
his father leaning against one of the narrow 
windows overlooking Keeptowne. Through that window he would see the dawn come.

The rat's entrance did not go unnoticed. His 
father smiled to him and beckoned him to come 
closer with one paw. Charlie continued to walk as 
silently as he could across the rich carpets 
until he was at his father's side. They both 
gazed into an indigo sky as one by one the stars 
dwindled from sight. Neither said anything for several minutes.

It was Malger who broke the silence though only 
in a whisper. “Dawn will be here soon.”

Charlie nodded, twitching his whiskers. “And the 
streets will be clogged with travelers trying to leave Keeptowne.”

“Euper will be overrun for two days.”

“It will be at least three before life returns to normal.”

“At least.”

Charlie said nothing for a time and neither did 
Malger. After a minute of silence the marten 
lifted one arm and set a hand upon his son's 
shoulders to pull him closer. Charlie leaned into 
his father and smiled. His father smiled in return.

“I spoke to Nocturna last night, as promised.”

“And?”

Charlie took a deep breath, straightening to his 
normal height, and let his powerful rodentine 
incisors show fully with his smile. “I Dream, 
still. I'm ready to seek a thief with you, 
Father.” The fingers of one hand rose to touch 
the glimmering mithril crescent moon pendant upon its chain about his neck.

“It will be difficult. We only have another month 
before your mother, sister and I must leave for Breckaris.”

Charlie stood taller on his toes. “We are Sutt, Father. We will catch him.”

Malger pulled him tighter. The first rays of the 
rising sun glinted off the marten's fangs as he smiled.



**** THE END ****

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

Charles Matthias
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