<html> <body> --------- Metamor Keep: Divine Travails of Rats by Charles Matthias and Ryx Pars IV: Infernus (t) Saturday, May 12, 708 CR Despite the choking headiness of wine saturating his clothes and fur as they dived within the fountain, not even the palest scent of it remained when the rat collapsed onto the solid gray line that spanned the layers of hell. Charles felt neither dampness in his fur nor tasted any on his tongue. The necrotic vivacity he'd consumed from Loriod brought him to his feet a moment after sprawling on the bridge. By the time he stood Qan-af-årael appeared beside him, his ancient features comforting. But Charles would not quickly forget the rat queen's touch, nor the mire of the foul lord's desire, and the interminable and unknowable aeons spent in their company. “Master Åelf, why did it take so long for you to find and rescue me? I feared I was going to surrender to her wiles. I was... afraid I had.” This last Charles admitted with a sullen twitch of his whiskers. The ageless blue eyes regarded him with warmth and benevolence. “My conquest of the Lord of Rage was but moments after you dived into the bridge and fled his realm and his grasp. But the Queen of Lust knew of our travels and laid a trap for you. The Daedra are vast in power even on our world, but here in their realm they are authors of almost all that transpires. Those few moments we were separated were stretched for you into as long as she desired them to be.” Charles blinked but after pondering those words was left shaking his head. “I do not understand.” Qan-af-årael offered him a wan smile. “You were in her realm for only seconds before I found you. But our separation allowed her to make it seem much, much longer for you. Even though she could not persist in this forever, I fear that if we do not bind ourselves even more closely than we already have...” Charles felt that comforting presence touch his mind for a moment, like a brisk wind curling over the lip of high, stone walls. “If we do not bind ourselves, even the smallest separation will leave you at the mercy of the two Daedra yet before us.” The rat trembled from head to tail and leaned closer to the Åelf. He could still feel the weight of the spiked collar on his neck and the crush of coils about his legs and chest. What cruel devices and temptations were waiting to consume him on the other side of the bridge? He lifted his head, swallowing to hide his fear. “What must we do?” Qan-af-årael lifted his hands to his chin as if folded in prayer, eyes momentarily lost in thought. And then he nodded as if satisfied with whatever solution had come to him. His lips, thin, smiled with genuine affection, lifting the angular cheek bones and brightening his pearl-gray countenance. “She wanted you to call on her. The Lord of Rage wanted you to grasp the chain. Even Klepnos wanted you to shed blood. Acts pregnant with potency and symbol. To bind ourselves more fully together, it is necessary for you to make an oath.” “An oath?” Charles felt his whiskers droop for a moment and then lift upward as he gazed at his protector. “What sort of oath must I make?” The Åelf stretched out one hand and gently let it rest on the rat's shoulder. His voice was rich and full of confidence. “An oath of allegiance, fealty, and obedience. Unite yourself to me as a vassal to his liege lord. I have already sworn to protect you and guide you on your quest to find your son. Such an oath now from you will seal us together and protect you from the control of the Daedra.” Charles lifted his ears and stood a little taller. “They could no longer tempt me?” “Temptation will always come. But they will have no power over you unless you forswear me.” The thought made him recoil. “I would never do that!” He objected with a hiss in his breath. The strange light on the Bridge seemed to twist about them as they stood staring at each other. The boundaries of reality tightened and Charles felt immeasurably smaller as if the regard of something beyond were laid at this moment. Focus was made, emphasis placed, and all thought contracted to the exchange of this oath. As if caught by an unseen breeze, Qan-af-årael's silvery-black hair lifted for a moment before settling over his white-garbed shoulders. Deep blue eyes ablaze with confidant assurance welcomed him. “Not long past you made an oath to Baron Avery as a knight to his liege. I can see it come now to your thoughts. Such an oath is more than we need, but it possess the character of nobility that will make every infernal being recoil in disgust. The final oath will be sufficient. Are you prepared to make it?” Charles took a deep breath, clasping his fists to his chest and nodding. He lowered to one knee. Beneath him only the slender expanse of bridge existed. Their shadows disappeared off the edge of that bridge and were no more. “I am ready, milord.” The words were not quite the same as Baron Avery had used six weeks past to invest him as a knight of the Glen. But how could they be when it was not the nobly-born squirrel to whom he swore but an ancient amongst ancients, a fount of wisdom and good counsel, a strength against Daedra and all evil, and a veritable Prince amongst the Åelves? Qan-af-årael's voice was quiet, serene, and gentle as he offered the oath. “Do you swear loyalty and fealty to I your guardian and protector, and to serve me with all your strength, with all your devotion, and with all your life?” The breath he'd been holding came out in a rush with his oath. “I will to my lord be true and faithful; I will love all that he loves and shun all that he shuns. I so swear!” Qan-af-årael extended one of his hands and laid it palm-down upon the rat's brow, fingers gently pressing against his ears on either side. “Then, as Lord of Colors, I accept your oaths of fealty, loyalty, and obedience, and will treat thee from henceforth as one of my own. I name thee Núrodur Charles Matthias, servant and knight of the Åelf.” His fingers traced a sign upon the rat's brow through his fur and then he held out his slender hand. “Rise, and seal thy devotion with your kiss.” Charles took another deep breath, feeling a warmth course through him, an excitement that hearkened back to that damp March day when he'd given his oaths to Baron Avery. Nearly the whole of the Glen had assembled to rejoice in his investiture. Who had come to witness this giving of oaths, he wondered. Standing, he bent forward and lowered his snout to the powerful hand. Lacking true lips he could only press the end of his snout to the pearl-gray flesh that seemed to glimmer with life. A rush filled him, and he felt Qan-af-årael's presence within his mind more deeply than before. Yes, this was the noble, lordly one he would gladly follow. The oath sealed, he stepped back and for a moment marveled at the way their shadows now seemed to lay one atop another. Qan-af-årael's broad smile lingered for a moment and then a graver cast touched the edges of his thin lips. “I have protected you as much as is possible in this place. I caution you, Núrodur, you are not invulnerable. Vast dangers still lay before us. Stay close and do as I instruct and we shall not falter.” He put one hand on the rat's shoulder and squeezed firmly. The touch felt endearing to the rat who stood a little taller on his crook-shanked legs. Charles nodded. “I understand, milord. I will follow your instructions. Is there anything else we must do before we quit this place?” The Åelf shook his head and gestured with his other hand toward the tapered end of the bridge. “Proceed. I am with you, Núrodur.” Charles turned to face the end of the bridge that led into a yet lower pit of the hells. He took a deep breath, swallowed, and tightened his arms over his chest. He could feel the Sondeshike safely tucked into his tunic and briefly wrapped his fingers about it through the cloth. Perhaps, he hoped, he might not need it this time. The presence that touched his mind felt so close now that he could almost hear his master chuckle. He chittered under his breath, lowered his hand, and strode forward. The bridge stretched before him, all that existed drawn taut along the gray line. The distortion lasted but a moment and the darkness snapped around them. Charles stumbled a moment as his paws found themselves on a well maintained road of large, close-fitting stones. Each stone was polished to crisp perfection so that he could feel no grain beneath his toes, and yet his pads gripped it as firmly as packed earth. The road stretched ahead of him along a broad plain beneath a smoke-filled sky that glimmered with the touch of evening bronze. Large buildings of stone and metal were positioned at regular intervals along the road, each of which was covered with chimneys from which the smoke belched. They were not castles, nor were they manor houses of any sort. If they were fortifications, they were the strangest and least effective fortifications that the rat had ever witnessed. In truth, Charles had no idea what they were for nor where they found the fuel to burn as the land had been scoured clean of any trees. The ground did not appear dead, merely covered as if it bore a breastplate of its own. To the right and the left he saw more strange buildings, but if there was any more to the landscape it was lost to the haze of cloud and smoke. A few of the buildings appeared ornate and bore the suggestion of vast wealth, but no lights glimmered within their windows. Qan-af-årael laid a gentle hand upon his shoulder and then fell into step beside him. His lips stretched, but no words came from his tongue. Instead, his master's thoughts took shape in the rat's mind. Do not speak to anyone you meet here. They are clever and used to deception. Many mortals have been tricked into selling themselves into eternal misery for a brief glimpse of moth-eaten riches held by those that make this place their home. Charles nodded as he glanced at the oddly unpleasant buildings and the foreboding sky. The air did not choke him as the red ash did in the Lord of Rage's realm, but the smell turned his stomach. It was not the familiar and pleasing aroma of wood smoke, nor did it carry the heady and pungent flavor of pipe smoke. It lacked the foulness of burning refuse and the allure of smoldering incense. If there was any one particular quality he could ascribe to that smoke it would be the merest hint of sulfur. The searing from that putrid substance only touched the air but did not fill it. Charles still pulled his cloak over his snout, though that seemed even less effective here than it had been against the red ash. Together they walked down the road in silence. The landscape was still with only the plumes of smoke changing as they eddied in winds perceived more than felt. From the ominous and depressing buildings he could make out the sound of machines grinding in an endless drone. Even that sound felt dull and perfunctory. The rat had the vague sense that he was wandering through a land that operated as did a clock. The weights had been set, the gears moved, but all those who might care what time the hands read had vanished long ago. The road did not meander but followed a straight course though for a time they did not appear to make any progress. The black-stoned buildings on either side all seemed alike in their drabness and perfidious aura. The ground beyond the road was, if not covered over in sheets of metal, dried and cracked like once fertile earth after a decade of famine. Yet despite the aridity and banality of the landscape, the road itself was fashioned with such precision that Charles felt no distinction between any of the close-fit stones beneath his paws. What had been made here had been made unerringly; all else was left to desiccation. Just when he thought he would never see anything different he noted something that glimmered with a luminous brilliance at the side of the road beyond the next pair of smoke-reeked buildings. Charles felt his eyes drawn to the warm color that of all things in view was the only one that felt vivacious. It too had a well-proportioned shape as it was arranged in a rectangular stack wider than tall. The shape itself felt perfect, as if no other rectangle was worth looking at; this was the rectangular dimensions that all four-sided things aspired to form. As they walked past the buildings, Charles finally recognized the burning glow of that perfect rectangle as a stack of bars of pure gold. Each bar appeared to be as long as his forearm and as wide as his hand. Only with his Sondecki strength could he hope to lift even one of those bars let alone carry it along. One bar of such pure gold would be enough to pay a decade's worth of wages to the workmen and craftsmen necessary to build his castle in the Narrows. Two bars would see the castle finished and draw merchants and tradesmen eager to make a living to his new home. He would never need worry about money again. Wealth beyond the depths of avarice was merely the length of an outstretched arm away. All who touch such things will be their slave, Núrodur. The rat twitched his whiskers and tightened his arm against his chest. His hand had begun to reach toward the stack of gold, but now he dug his claws into his chest fur and kept it there. He flicked his tail and forced his snout to turn back to the road. Thank you, milord. All the gold in the world does me no good while Ladero is dead. His thought, sent into the presence of the Åelf bound to him by promise and oath and the ravages of the passage through six realms beneath the misery and depredation of the daedra lords, was met with a warm approval, as of a master recognizing wisdom gained in their pupil. But a warning still came with his thought. Even were it not so, all gold in this place is poison. Do not look at it again for it will tempt you without words and with your own better nature. Your responsibility will entice you to grasp it; your fidelity and love for your family will encourage you to seek it. I have been trained since my youth to live with whatever I have, be it good fortune or only the clothes on my back, milord. I will not give in. Do not trust in your strength only. I do not. I also have you, milord. Qan-af-årael offered him a faint smile at that thought but gave him no more reply. The stack of gold disappeared behind them, its perfect shape and beautiful luster forgotten in the drab, smoke-choked air. The road continued to stretch before them. Charles felt a sullen emptiness in him at the thought of his family and their needs, but he did not have any time to ponder it as not a minute beyond the gold something else brilliant and burnished with that unparalleled hue flashed into being a short distance ahead. His master gripped his shoulder tightly and Charles stopped, the hand gripping his chest fur reaching down to grasp his Sondeshike. The golden light ahead rose in a plume of fiery clouds for a moment before resolving into a large shape. To Charles' surprise the figure was, like him, a walking rat, but this one was not garbed in torn cloaks and tattered tunics. The rat before him stood even taller than the Åelf and was garbed in a resplendent doublet and hose of rich burgundy silk decorated with golden filigree, epaulet, and sash. He bore soft boots that glimmered with rubies and rose to the hocks of his crook-shanked legs, while his long tail was accented by a crimson sleeve decorated with golden feathers that with each twist of his tail gave the impression that a bristling fire raged behind him. His face was covered in deep, black fur from which the brilliant golden eyes seemed to protrude. His whiskers were so rich a white Charles thought them fashioned with diamonds. His snout opened in a smile of serene confidence and charisma. His regal attire and bearing made Charles feel even meaner a peasant than Loriod in all his perversity and cruelty ever could. Charles swallowed, pulling his cloak more tightly across his snout and tightening his grip on his Sondeshike. Qan-af-årael's hand never left his shoulder. A plume of violet light erupted from his left hand and the familiar tree blade occupied his grasp. The Åelf's voice was unperturbed and echoed with power. “This one is not for you.” The black rat twitched his whiskers in a familiar gesture of amusement and then swept one arm outward, encompassing road, strange buildings, barren landscape, and smoke-filled twilight sky. “I am aware of your journey through the realms of my fellow daedra and what you have accomplished. While I am without doubt quite capable of thwarting your purpose through the death of this mortal, I am also aware that it would require the expenditure of a vast quantity of my resources in order to accomplish.” The daedra rat folded his hands before him in a gesture that seemed more about what didn't move than what did. Charles noted that they were white like his whiskers, with claws even longer than his already long, bony fingers. His voice felt deep and offered with unwavering confidence yet spoken with derisive condescension as if to inferiors who were rather boring but required his attention. Cold eyes stared down along his snout with implacable regard. “The satisfaction in achieving what my fellow daedra could not is not worth so great an expenditure considering that the remainder of the benefit accrued to me – the acquisition of a single, insignificant mortal soul – can be achieved, and is being achieved, in much greater quantities and with far less effort all the time. “Therefore, I have no intention of engaging you directly. I have instructed my servants to offer no impediment to your progress. You are free to go wherever you wish in my realm.” His fingers gave a swift, annoyed flick outward, indicating the cityscape around them. “You are free to do whatever you wish in my realm. Should you prove a destructive force within my realm I will respond accordingly, but I know that your purpose has nothing to do with my realm except as one more place through which you must pass.” Qan-af-årael raised the tree-sword an inch. “You are not telling the truth, Agemnos. Your pride and vanity would not allow you to give up any prize, especially one your fellow daedra could not claim.” The black rat tilted back his head and laughed, a gesture slight in movement but so deep that Charles felt the road tremble beneath him. The crimson-clad daedra allowed only a moment for mirth before turning his head so that they saw only his left eye. “I am telling you the truth, Åelf. I merely have not finished telling you the truth.” He pointed with his right arm down the road ahead of them. “You will find the bridge at the end of this road. It is the only way you can leave this realm without submitting yourselves either in worship or in sacrifice to I and my fellow daedra. There are no guards on this road and at the bridge you will meet a single one of my servants. He will instruct you on what must be done to break the seal over the bridge.” Charles lifted his ears in alarm, and the daedra met his gaze. He felt in those eyes offers of wealth even beyond what the stack of gold could give him, beyond all the kingdoms of men. The very affairs of all Galendor would be at his whim were he to bend knee to this black rat. Charles stiffened and leaned closer to the Åelf so that he could feel the brush of his master's robes. “Yes, while you were entertaining yourselves helping plague victims in Tallakath's gardens, I discerned your purpose and have placed a seal upon the bridge that you cannot break. You, mortal, have but four choices. You may attempt to flee this realm either by the bridge behind you or through the Axis; either path will place you in our combined power and you will surely die. You may call upon me to open the seal and I shall do so after you swear your faith to me. You may search in vain all the rest of your mortal life for another exit which you will never find; on your death your soul will be mine. Or, you may open the seal yourself; to do so you will become mine anyway.” Agemnos extended his left arm toward Charles and the smile he offered was powerful, full of suggestion and confidence. “Your soul will be mine, mortal. The only choice you have is what way you shall give it to me. Swear to me now and you will enjoy plenitude of life, wealth beyond measure, and power beyond price. Every moment you delay in swearing diminishes this offer. And if you don't swear to me, you will suffer and never experience the satisfaction my followers enjoy for their faithfulness.” His smile, accented with incisors that gleamed like iron in the forge, held no invitation. Charles swallowed, but did not waver his gaze from the daedra rat. Beside him Qan-af-årael stretched out his arm and the purple blade seemed to grow like the tree it resembled, branches of light stretching upward and outward, toward the gold-limned daedra as they would to the sun. “You will not claim his soul. I protect him.” “Do you think to threaten me with that pathetic blade?” Agemnos laughed and shook his head, whiskers standing perfectly still. “No,” the Åelf replied even as he swept the blade to one side, the air sizzling in its wake, “because you are not actually here.” “Very astute,” Agemnos replied and gave a cursory nod of his head as if offering them the barest token of approval though falling far short of recognizing them as worthy opponents. “And as I have said what I came to say, I shall take my leave of you. Enjoy your stay in my realm, little rat. You will spend aeons here until you are nothing but tar.” The words had no more left his mouth than the regally attired rat vanished from sight. The road before them was clear and the golden light that had for a moment suffused everything dwindled into the interminable twilight. For a moment longer they stood there, Charles holding his Sondeshike so tightly in his right hand that the claws pressed into his palms, and Qan-af-årael brandishing the blade that had protected them in the Lord of Rage's realm. And then the deep purple faded until there was nothing left of the tree blade but a memory. The Åelf half-turned to regard him with a rueful expression. He is arrogant, but he is very, very skilled. We must expect deception. Be on your guard, Núrodur. He slipped the Sondeshike free from his cloak and extended it with a nod. The presence within him warmed and he felt a surge of approval. Charles clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth and felt his heart begin to beat again. Together the two of them continued down the road, ever watchful and, in Charles' case, anxious. ---------- May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love, Charles Matthias </body> </html>