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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.
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May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love,
Charles Matthias
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