Mariwa: An Ivian Tale

The Butcher of Heron Road 1

"And whom, O' Lord, would embrace such derelict wisdom?

Mongrels hand fed by lessers, deafened by their jangling greed.

To such despicable ears, thy words are buzzing!"

Once more did the Lord in Iron laugh, jovial.

"Aenexias, foolish Aenexias!

Thine is a won fight! What is crown, staff, bracelet?

Mimicry! Comb, pelt, fanning tails of the invidious.

Like their much coveted beasts, they quail at the talon, the mighty incisor.

Bare them, allow the deaf to enjoy their pierce.

No ear shall ignore thee forever more."

– Citrine Tale

Beyond the cramped roads of the Floodlands, a city sprawled in all directions.

In different hands, the city of Treil once bore the name Threehills, on account of being built in a small valley between it's namesake and the River Hooale, which similarly had been the Ivian Cordon, most disputed border between the Empire of Galehold and the yet disorganized Tyrian tribes.

It was remarkable how it had recovered from its bloody history. Over the open tombs of ancient battlefields, the second most populous settlement of the rebellious kingdom of Bellfort had been built from brick and mortar, serving as the commercial hub between the Saintdom of Awin and the its recently opened former master.

Marquise hated it. She had several rants ready at all times on Bellfort's audacity in not only taking up arms against the Bear but becoming a budding vassal state to its worst enemy in Awin. Fordu himself found comfort in the peace this city found, as it made the flow of traffic constant and security lax, allowing for quick and easy infiltration whenever needed.

Bringing Aleh along, then, had been easy. The pretentious witch now sat by the knot of a great ficcus, working on shaving a small bone gadget smooth, cursing under his breath ever so often as his carving knife slipped and nicked his fingertips.

His hands stopped, head snapping South and West as he focused on a sliver between the canopy. One-Two's illusion broke silently, its copper glint sweeping down towards Aleh's extended arm. It slowed its descent with a few beats of its wings, dropping on his forearm like a stone and almost pulling him to the ground.

"You were supposed to land, you piece of shit!" Aleh glared at the bird-shaped object. "I surrender. Fuck you!"

"Aleh," Fordu said.

"Patience, Agare, I'm getting to it!" Aleh touched his finger to One-Two's front-side. Once his biometric signal was recognized, he moved it in a particular pattern, hitting several key spots and unlocking its back compartment. Snuggled among hides laid a letter rolled into a small tube. Fordu reached in, plucking it out and wasting no time in reading it top to bottom.

After a few seconds of silence, a cough.

"So? I suppose I must guess now?" Aleh said. "Allow me: she has rooted out an obscure evil, and learned our week is about to become worse?"

The witch had a point, no matter how dearly he made Fordu wish he still had eyes to roll. With a discreet check for eavesdroppers, he crouched by him and read aloud.

"Appreciated. Although, what a closing statement." Aleh said.

"You knew what to expect from her," Fordu said.

"...I suppose I did." Aleh made a show out of taking a deep breath, then glared in his direction. "I loath asking questions I know the answer to, yet when she said we had one possible culprit left..."

He nodded. "She must have meant the Citrine Tale."

"Wondrous." Aleh rubbed his face, laying his head back against the ficcu's trunk. "Yet, we remain on course for the bulk of their theorized territories. Has she gone mad?"

"Believe in Marquise. She is not the kind of person to invest blindly in a plan."

"Not anymore, anyhow," he scoffed.

A past Fordy may have started planning Aleh's demise with that statement. This one had enough restrain to investigate first. "Are you having doubts? Don't worry, you will get your due, so long as you fulfill your purpose."

"Don't pretend to be dense, you faceless cretin! I know the worth of Marquise's promises, what I concern myself with is our ability to fulfill her intent!"

Frustrating. Shouldn't this have been resolved long ago? "Then it is a matter of not trusting in her choices. Our team was picked for specific reasons—"

"This team was picked because out of her band of callous and rancorous cockholes three of us make a decent enough fit for the makeshift family of an adult-infant, whose role in this farce remains unclear, and the fourth would come regardless. Only you and that mumbling animal of a faceless were chosen on bellic capacity, as proven by our first engagement."

"Which we dealt with."

"Which you dealt with!" Aleh struggled to rise, his legs shaking and threatening to topple him back. Fordu tried to help, but was pushed away. "Look at us! Does your carefully picked team seems like it emerged from a flawless win?! And that was what, a third, a fourth of what a Lesser House of Skawla can bring to bear? Now, we must crawl under the nose of the Sect's most powerful foe, hoping not to attract the attention of the reason this side of the Yine Wall has not seen brigands in the last hundred years, despite all the skirmishing and pillaging! How?!"

"By avoiding the fight altogether, one keeps the other in check." Fordu said.

"And if that fails, we come head to head against either, how do we proceed? We run? Where? Last time, I repeat, we were hooked by the roof of our mouths and forced to do battle against a band a fraction the strength and reach of what we face now, and that wasn't an option then!"

"Most of their plan only worked due to circumstance and coincidence! That they bumbled their way through such damage is unfortunate, but they did not know what they were doin

Aleh glared. "They knew Holly was there."

Fordu did not clench his fists. He had better control of himself than that now.

"They knew where we would be, how to divide us, how to immobilize us and—"

"Aleh, you're losing morale," Fordu said.

"How am I supposed not to?"

They met each other eye to Mark. Fordu had to dissuade him from further panic, Marquise's mission relied on his skill in doing so. Yet, he couldn't deny Aleh's points, the situation with the Di Aila had come uncomfortably close to irrecoverable.

There were concessions he could make, rewards he could offer. They had risked too much to come this far, and if the issue was not enough motivation, there were many venues they could work it through, less now after his mistake, but enough to make do.

"Listen to me, Agare," Aleh said. "You know mine loyalties, mine goals. I am willing to sacrifice much for their sake, however I am not here to join your mistress protracted suicide."

This time, he did clench his fists, to prevent himself from breaking the fucking witch's neck. "What did you just say?"

He grinned, holding himself against the tree to finally stand. "My dream are hers, her dreams are mine. You think I of all her pets could not connect the dots of our esteemed Lady's true objective? Had I no cause for survival, I might have joined her, but, well, I have said it before, have I not?"

"Drivel. You know nothing!"

"And you know I don't care what you think," Aleh's hostility endured his approach surprisingly well, a stark different from the young, haggard creature Fordu had tracked down so long ago. "All I care about is watching the fire spread and leaving before being found. You will reassure me you will bring me to that last step, or you will cut this loose end here and now."

"Don't be dramatic," Fordu said, hesitant. "Nor naive. I have suffered worse victories and survived better prepared enemies, this is nothing. Not only we remain capable of bringing the mission to a finish, we gained another triumph."

"What you saw that night," Aleh said, not sounding convinced

"Indeed."

"One Child of the Lake with odd particularities cannot repel the Haruspect, Agare."

"Not alone. But it's another resource we can rely on."

Aleh sighed. "Much relieved."

"I won't pretend to be dense, nor you a child: We've always been against stacking odds, Aleh, but if truly intend on escaping the Sect, Marquise's gamble will always be the closest you ever have to a chance."

In his early twenties, Aleh had never lost that edge of precocious youth to his features that made him look like a terrified teen about to throw a tantrum. That he was once a genius the Sect's witch corps laid their expectations on, if anything, only made that image worse.

Yet, if anybody deserved the grace of respect, he wasn't that much worse than them.

"You know, I despise that word with all of mine heart." He grabbed his cane from besides him. "Yet I despise this jungle thousandfold more. Fucking mosquitoes! If we have nothing else to discuss, I would like to check of Almalilly. Are you coming?"

"Later. Please do inform her of the letter."

"Of course." Aleh said, stumbling back to Treil without another glance back. This close to the road, he shouldn't need any escorts.

Unless Fordu missed something, and they were being trailed from out of sight.

Again.

Fordu waited until he disappeared to let the tension out of his shoulders, leaving in silence soon after.

They settled around one of the less reputed parts of the South-most hill. Far from Treil's main roads, yet still highly populated by all sorts who, as an unspoken rule, made their home inhospitable to questions.

Their inn was one such place, ideal to hide among the ever changing crowds and stay up to date on passing conversations. In other words, a polite den of debauchery, with a bar that ran full from dusk to dawn and rooms that never quietened.

Needless to say, Fordu did not enter it lightly. He could, if he so wished; he was certain that so long as he stuck to himself there would be no incidents, but that was a double edged blade: just as it was a good place to observe, it was a good place to be observed, and it was better not to test the flimsy cover they found.

After night fell, he climbed the shorter building neighboring the inn, and searched for the first of two rooms they rented. Once he was sure there would be no witnesses, he jumped, crossing the distance and swiftly entering through the window.

It was dark inside. Its sole illumination, a cracked lamp filled with a meager serving of fireflystones, had been covered by folded sheets, allowing only a sliver of incandescent light out. The floor was a killing field of creaking boards, an alarm system as effective as any, and would have been troublesome to cross had Aleh not repaired the enchantment of his boots.

Silence did not trick the room's sole inhabitant. A bolt flew true, certain to pierce his neck had he not caught it.

"Sir." Rosen's voice echoed from the shadows. "My most sincere apologies."

"No need. You're only fulfilling your duties." Agare flipped the bolt on his hand and returned it to the dark, careful not to turn it into a deadly projectile once more. "Your verbal slips concern me far more. I'm starting to believe they are no longer mistakes."

"What slips, si- Oh." Rosen gasped. "I-I am so sorry, s- Agare, I did not mean to—"

"Stop. I was merely... Doesn't matter. I don't like it, but if it's so important to you, I suppose I can relent."

"Much gratitude, sir." He heard Rosen shuffle, then pull his string back taut."It does mean a lot."

Fordu returned his attention to the center of the room. A large container had been settled in the middle of a large magical array, sixteen interconnecting points drawn in chalk, each bearing a jar filled with different types of dead vermin. The numerology had been meaningless, as far as Fordu understood, but he had seen no issue with relenting to Aleh's caprices.

He halted close to the array's boundary, unwilling to disturb its rather complex workings. "Has she come back?"

"No, sir," Rosen said. "Not since I woke up. If you permit me a comment?"

"Marquise has not birthed, raised, nor slept with Furfu the Third," Fordu said.

"N-no sir, that was not what I wished to imply!" Rosen was quick to answer. Always so straightforward.

"You wouldn't." He took a step back, returning to the window. "But you are curious why the Marquise sent her on this mission, and I know the kinds of conspiracies Aleh indulges in."

"He does," Rosen sighed. "Forgive the young sir, he is merely lashing out. I fear he is not accustomed to losses on the field... But if you permit me, I do have some curiosity on the topic, her behavior during the previous confrontations was..."

"I permit you to be honest, Rosen. It was shameful behavior from someone once rumored to have been considered for Unit Paleworm."

"... So she was that promising indeed?"

"She was. Don't ask me where that promise went. I'm going now, Rosen, keep your eyes sharp, and remember to take your medicine. Tomorrow, we gather to discuss our next steps, and your presence will be required."

"Of course, sir. Whenever I am needed." Rosen grumbled, bitter. Fordu didn't blame him, but neither did he intend to indulge his sulking.

His next destination was four rooms to the right, and already filled with life. A brief glance inside, and he entered.

Neither the glaring Aleh nor the swaying Almalilly were surprised by his presence. In fact, Almalilly even smiled and waved at him, not a good sign by any measure. Her face and hair were completely drenched, as was the far corner of the couple's bed she was sitting on. but he could still spot the vomit stains at the corner of her lips and the collar of her simple green dress.

"Took your time," Aleh said, sitting down on the opposite bed. "Found her close to fainted at the back of the establishment."

"Uuuugh, leave me alone!" Almalilly said, massaging the bridge of her nose. "I told you I was just going to rest my eyes for a bit! And could you speak a little quieter please? you're too shrill."

"W-wh- I would have you know mine voice is not—!"

"Aleh," Fordu said. "Quiet."

His dismay intensified, but mercifully he let go this time.

"Almalilly, report."

"Sooorry, I-" she hiccuped, "I was listening for anything at the bar like you told me, and the innkeeper was looking at me weird, so I thought to myself, since we now have all this coin to waste, why not blend in a little better?"

"We have not a coin to waste," Fordu felt the start of a headache, but pushed on.

"Well, all those things you bought with that big blue flower tell a different story, little man!" Almalilly laughed, yet even drunk it came as farcical.

"You know well that I only bought what we needed."

"And sold what you don't, right?" She gave a sharp smile, the accusation clear. He allowed it to linger until the mood left her, and she laid back onto her bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling. "Sorry. That one was petty even by my standards."

"O-oi, Almalilly!" Aleh said. "If you are going to rest, do so on your side, I do not care to rescue you from suffocating on your own bile!"

"Chill out, I'm getting there." She turned, laying her head over a folded arm. "So annoying, can't even rest my eyes in peace anymore."

"Almalilly, in earnest now," Fordu interjected before the bickering grew unbearable.

She sighed. "Grapevine had nothing on the Citrine. Rather, the gossip of the moment is on the mysterious raids happening in the Mountainous Region."

"Raids?" Aleh frowned.

"Distant villages in Awin going dark one after another, refugees from the mountains starting fights, the underground trails getting hit hard by someone who doesn't ask questions, a huge mess. Lots of people worried and circulating rumors, little of it reliable. One of the Len might be moving West, or are already there, something like that."

And not here? So Marquise's information had been right, as expected. Aleh seemed nonplussed, casting a questioning glance Fordu's way, whose lack of answer should prove enough of one.

"And nothing on the Citrine," Fordu said.

"Nothing solid, but you know better than me there won't be a peep until they start acting in the open," Almalilly said, eyes closing. "And then it's the same old hubbub, cat chases uluun chases mice, until they decide to hide again and everyone can rest for a couple of years. Every time I heard them brought up this week was entirely out of paranoia, rather than genuine evidence."

"A start."

"I feel like shit. Uuuuuugh, those Awinian fruit drinks taste so good but go down so bad..." She grumbled, curling into herself.

He hesitated. Watching a reliable subordinate brought this low made him uncomfortable in a way he hadn't felt in years. A distant part of him reached for years of old teachings, eager to shake and slap her sober, to scream on her face how pathetic it was for even a Face to make themselves so at home during a mission.

Another part wanted to do worse. A cracked tool was better broken, least it could be stolen and used by enemy hands. Old teaching, quickly cut off before it festered. Faceless and Faces alike were created so these situations never arose, but some inevitably fell through the cracks and were better dealt with responsibly.

"...Almalilly," he forced himself to say, "has Aleh informed you Marquise's letter arrived today?"

"Hmm-hmm," she hummed. "Want me to rewrite it for Holly again?"

"It would be appreciated, but I will leave the decision to you, those we have are enough. Rather, I want you to keep listening, and avoid doing yourself this level of disfavor again, least it jeopardizes us. No more drinking until tomorrow, I plan to hold a meeting on our future steps and we need your inputs.

"Because they have been so helpful..."

"They have," he said, but she didn't seem to be paying attention. With a deep exhale, her body relaxed, and he had not to guess what happened. "Disgraceful. Aleh?"

"You want me to nurse her." Aleh trembled to his feet. "Fuck's sake. You have more planned for tonight?"

Fordu gave a slight nod. "Something I'm better suited for."

Chasing down a rampaging monster.

Without another word, he slipped out the window and disappeared into the night.

Finding the monster in the first place would be a stroke of luck. Ivias was, practically speaking, a jungle surrounded by water.

A somewhat outdated Yine saying dictated that one was always within a thirty minute walk of a forest. There was nuance to that statement, but no understating how much woodland a strategic view of the archipelago had to account for. From the relatively clear Light Regions to the alien, hostile environment of the Skawlan Wasteland, surviving Ivias required knowing often subtle differences between biomes.

The Sacred Forest Region stood as a subdued middle ground between the North and South. It was most easily discernible not for what it contained, but for what it usually lacked, that is, any out of place characteristics. Not the inexplicably retentive soil of the Floodlands, not the abominations of the Hollows, not the madness carrying breezes of the Wind Region.

But that was not to say it had none. The density of ruined settlements forgotten in the wilds for one. And another particularly famous example, which Fordu approached on a hunch.

They were called Yimolaga trees. Capable of reaching over sixty meters of height and bearing a milky yellow wood, they were sometimes referred to as the "Dead Giant's Hands" due to the way their trunks branched upwards, said to resemble a hand bursting out of the ground and reaching out for salvation.

Some quality in the Sacred Forest's soil made it auspicious not only to the spread but the growth of the Yimolagas. To the Yine, to the Skawlans, to the Territory Gobans, that presented a lucrative opportunity, as their wood was a valuable luxury in foreign markets, while their nuts were a premium ingredient in many alchemical formulas and enchantments. Not to the Tyrian cult, however, which held them as sacred, and punished those who harmed them harsher than murderers.

One ancient Yimolaga sat at a visible distance from Treil. Cutting his way short through the trees and the hills, it did not take long before he could see the innumerable shawls, prayer beads, and other meaningless ritualistic paraphernalia weighting its lower branches.

Until that morning, rumors of its guardian beast's ferocity kept the Tyrian faithful wary of overstaying their welcome. Tonight, the creature's innards joined the decoration above. Fordu watched the responsible monster in silence, wondering if she was conscious of the ironic desecration she committed.

Judging by the pieces still left on the ground, it had been a large Ivian cave hound, commonly but not always an underground dwelling abomination. The carnage had spread to several meters around the corpse, fragments of bone still bearing muscles peppering his path with ribbons of skin and adorning cloth, a hazard he had to sidestep if he wanted to approach the still raging faceless without alerting her.

But she had been eximious once. Silence was not enough. She stopped with a raised fist, about to pummel a head that now bore little skull.

"H-have you come to e-execute me?" Furfu said.

"... Look at me." Fordu said.

"I-I deserve it. I-I know I deserve it, so p-please be quick, I don't w-want to bear this anymore, I d-don't want to live knowing t-that I can only fail h-her—!"

"Furfu III! I will not repeat myself."

She shrunk, whimpering softly. She hesitated to part with her kill, and a nagging feeling at the back of his mind made his fists clench, if only for a second.

"Pull back your hood, and remove your helmet," he said.

Shaking hands reached up, failing to be steady as viscera dripped from between her fingers. she pulled back her hood, then her bent steel helmet, standard model made with the particular necessities of a faceless in mind.

Her Mark of Eligor was revealed in full. It was not only a gift and a powerful weapon to their kind, but also an indicator of their sanity. He hoped her Mark would be undisturbed and this violence was some natural side of her; he feared he would see it overflown, and be forced to make her predictions true.

It was neither. While it's movements had grown rapid, teasing the surface with shapes that threatened to spill outwards, she was still not too far gone. If he was careful, the situation could be remediated.

"Rumors about large carcasses being found mutilated beyond recognition are picking up among the city's people." He said, risking approach. "There have been talks about hunting down the potential threat. If they discover you are the culprit, the whole mission may fall apart."

"M-My apologies," she whispered.

"Don't be cheeky with me."

"S-sorry. I mean it." Furfu was wracked by a full body shiver. "I-it just hurts so fucking bad. I-I hate it so much! H-hehehehehehe!"

He tensed. Less than a lunge's worth of distance separated them. If either lowered their guards, it could be over in a split second. "Have you at least gained some benefit from this? Are you taking nutrition from the things you kill?"

"Does it matter?!" A thump. Her fist met the ground with enough strength to crater it, splattering chunks of canine over her arms. "I failed her! I-I failed you, our comrades, e-even Holly, but how could I have failed her?!"

"You did not. Marquise knew of your issues, and expected your growth to be slow."

"There shouldn't need to be growth! I-I was molded for this!" She gestured to the corpse. "B-but then I tried to fight, I did, I-I didn't want her to be disappointed in me, y-yet my head went blank and I, I-I—!"

"Furfu."

"I-I'm useless. I-I'm never enough! Stupid, unreliable, weak, pathetic! I-I should be able to do it if it's for her sake! I thought I c-could. S-she was so happy when I t-told her I could do it, that I would be okay, And then I failed her! I-I failed—!"

"Furfu!"

She snapped up to her feet in a single movement. Fordu jumped back. "It's w-why I'm here! I'm practicing on these s-stupid fucking beasts! The strongest I c-could find! I-I'm getting better! Soon that w-witch won't be able to tell her how disappointing I-I was, right?!"

It was disturbing. Faceless were not meant to be this frail.

He should know better. He should stay calm and keep his mind clear so he could better navigate her mental state, but he couldn't deny that she repulsed him. Almalilly's suffering he could understand, humans could never fully overcome certain weaknesses, but they were supposed to be better than this. Being exemplar was the reason they were turned faceless in the first place.

Marquise had known all along. If she had stayed at the manor she remain nothing but a detriment to their plans, and if he didn't take control of this soon, she might become worse.

"Furfu. The mission is not over." he said.

She froze in the middle of her rant, watching him in silence.

"The objective remains, Holly lives." he continued. "Marquise saved you from becoming a rotten corpse in the woods, did she not?"

"Y-yes!" She stumbled his way. "She is the reason I'm alive! She is everything!"

"She is your light."

"Yes! Yes!" She gripped him by the shoulders. He felt his padding dig into his skin.

"Then this is not the way!"

He could not empathize with her defects. He had never been taught how to comfort the distraught. But tools he could manage.

"T-then what am I supposed to d-do?!" She screamed. "I-I need to become what I was always meant to b-be!"

His thoughts almost came to a crashing halt as he registered the familiar words. At the last moment, he managed to keep himself on track. "By not revealing our presence to the enemy, first of all. By staying close to your comrades so you may aid them. By not tricking yourself into thinking you will see in these animals what you see in your true enemies."

She let go, her arms falling limp besides her. "N-not in the Tales?"

The cold of the night seeped into him. "And not in the Sect either."

These were words he had never dreamed to utter. It had been real since the day he found Marquise again and took her by the hand, but never had he felt it press against him so heavily.

He held on. He couldn't afford to falter now. "Remember her words. Your dreams are her dreams, and her comrades are your comrades. So long as we remain together, we have nothing to fear."

"Y-you mean it?"

"Of course." He had been there at her lowest. He had been there at her strongest at her most beautiful. He had slain abominations by her side and watched her broken halves fail to come together, so of course he knew. If he did not, than he knew nothing.

"... H-hehehehe! Hehehehehehehe!" Furfu laughed, voice breaking at the edges.

"What now?" he asked.

"I-I just think... we are all a little similar, aren't we? You, me, Holly. Those are w-words you tell yourself, aren't they? S-she is your light too! It's why I tolerate you so much."

"... Tolerate me?"

She didn't register his tone, shambling away into the woods as if she had the right to end the conversation. "M-my apologies, hehehe! S-she is my light! She is our light! Such beautiful words!"

He called to her, but for the rest of the night she did not obey him again. She bathed in a nearby river, giggling and murmuring to herself as if she no longer registered reality. Meanwhile, he pondered the mystery of Furfu III.

Every bit as dangerous as she was useful, a monster once said to be the second coming of the woman she now loved. Why had Marquise show such interest in her? He knew the answer in general terms, but there had to be more there. She was just not worth her promise.

Regardless, if Marquise wanted her, he would stay by her side, and make sure she would never regret that kindness.