Excellent story, MattRat! You are the
ur-example that I hold up when telling people
about Metamor Keep, and this really showcases
why. Fantastic characters, vivid settings,
intricately woven plots... beautiful. Just one
tiny, tiny quibble... I -was- planning on having
Alexastra told who her mother was.
Aside from that, please continue to make mine Metamor!
Hallan
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Date: Tue, 28 Jul 2015 05:47:11 -0400
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: [Mkguild] Divine Travails of Rats - Pars VI. Acceptio (n) - THE END
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 rats
ears. As Charlie gazed into the grief of his
fathers 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 ravens 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 Charlies 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 Charlies 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 Liliths domain.
Malgers 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
Nocturnas 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 Elis 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
sires 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.
Nocturnas 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 Elis 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 dont 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.
Charlies 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? Ive 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 Malgers, 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.
Nocturnas brows drew down slightly, confusion
making her whiskers twitch. You bear them,
Charlie, as they are a Dreamers duty.
No, Nocturna, not my Nightmare. My fathers;
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 Charlies 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.
----------
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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