Burning Today Options

[Olen]

Some of you probably remember my last piece, Yesterday's Shadow and that it had a rather unsatisfying ending. I spent the summer rectifying this and now have a sizeable sequel/ completion to it which is itself now finished. It would probably be better to read Yesterday's Shadow before this as it would make more sense, however you should get by without it. If anyone wants I'll put a synopsis here, though Yesterday's Shadow isn't very long so you could just read it here (enough plugs yet?)

Anyway without further ado:

Burning Today

Prologue

Dervas wore boots while he worked. Shoes didn't last long in the decaying mixture of blood, vomit, drink and drugs which floored The Black Guar. The dark man had finally passed out and for the first time Dervas dared look at him. A worn man with a broken soul. Who are you? The Black Guar didn't get passing trade – the mixture of pushers, heavies and racketeers who made up most of his patronage didn't appreciate strangers. In the first hour the man, who now lay face down on the table, had knocked two out cold and broken another's arm. They left him alone after that and he them. Dervas wiped the remains of a line of sugar off the bar and nodded to the bouncer who went to move the man to his room.

Someone knocked at the door. Dervas ignored it. They knocked again, for longer this time. He cursed and went to tell whoever it was where to go. It was late an he didn't need any more trade. He pushed open the door, a curse dancing on his tongue. A sack crashed to the ground, gold clinked within. A Breton in black clothes stood in the doorway.

“What's his tab?” There was no need to ask whose.

“Sixty.”

The Breton showed no surprise, and counted out the gold. “Listen,” his tone offered pain if Dervas didn't, “You keep giving that guy drinks, drugs, whores, whatever he asks for okay? For him happy hour doesn't end, tabs never have to be paid. Push as much as you can into him. Don't worry - I'll be round a couple of nights a week to pay you. That sack,” he kicked disdainfully at the one he'd just dropped, “Contains a thousand drakes, payment enough I'd say. If he asks don't tell him, just give him more drink. Understand?”

Dervas nodded, his mouth was dry.

The man disappeared into the night.

Dervas walked back into the bar. He looked towards the dark man's room. Who are you? he thought again, And what have I gotten into?

[Olen]

27. Bitter Dreams

The slaughter finished I plodded outside and left my comrades to themselves. Weariness smothered me like a heavy cloak. My muscles ached as my mind tied knots. I wandered the dark, corpse littered ground, slaves and their masters lying equal in death. The sack was over and the newly freed looked about with suspicion, and fear. I wondered at this but of course it was not freedom that scared them, it was choice. It was not knowing what tomorrow would bring, but knowing that their actions would decide it. I wandered how many would have truly free choices. Would we, as their rescuers, help them? Perhaps, though I hoped not. Then they would run, forced by fear of capture, always taking the best of a series of desperate choices, spiralling downward, ever nearer the darkness at the bottom but always finding more. There would be precious little choice for most.

They sat in hushed groups, or warmed themselves on the embers of houses. I sat in the shadows by one group and listened. They spoke in argonian but I understood enough. They were saying what they would do now. One, an old woman, wanted to return to the marshes but she didn't know what for. Her family and village had been destroyed. Another hoped to go west, to Cyrodiil, away from the memories. Another, a male this time, vowed vengeance. He would free more, he said, and kill the Dres. I stood and left them with their bitter dreams.

I drifted, for a time, like a moth between the warm lights of conversation but eventually I found a stone to sit on in the shadows. I had a small amount of skooma in my shirt and sat sipping it while I stared at nothing.

Before I found the oblivion I sought an argonian sat next to me. By his looks he was quite young, though there was a lot of scarring near the base of his tail. An enchanted slave bracer glinted on his wrist. For a while we sat in silence then he said, "They say the plan was yours." His cyrodiilic was fairly good.

"Most of it," I replied in argonian.

"How does the plan go now?"

"I don't know. It didn't go this far."

"You won't be able to help all of us. The bracer key isn't kept on the estate," he thumped his arm down on the rock. The metal cuff chinked.

I thought for a time before I spoke, "I doubt we'll help any of you."

He nodded. "Yes... What's you're name?"

"Firen... Firen Varian," I was a long time since I'd used my second name, "Yours?"

"Okun."

"What do you think will happen now?"

He looked surprised that I asked, "To most of them? Recapture. Punishment for escaping, as much to put off future rescue attempts as anything else. Some might manage to disappear, but it would be hard without the key, until they reach Argonia anyway," he paused, "What do you think I should do?"

The question caught me as off-guard as mine had him. I hadn't considered what might happen if we won, only the winning had concerned me. Now I wandered if I'd really done the slaves any favours at all. I sighed, "Be decisive. Decide yourself, don't be pushed by events. Hold your course."

"Some of us were thinking of running to Cyrodiil. Getting away from everything."

"It doesn't work."

He didn't reply. We sat together in silence, each with our own thoughts. After a while he said, "I think I've decided."

I inclined my head.

"I'd like to come with you."

It wasn't what I'd expected, or intended. "There's not much for you down that road."

"I know it will be dangerous, but its the best shot have at not being caught."

"It possible, likely even, that we won't be coming back."

"But you might."

"Even if we do there is nothing good after that choice. If we win, then what? Another mission? Another shot at death. Another shard from your soul. It's a trap you want to avoid."

"I didn't say I wanted to join the Argonian Defence Front, I want to go with you. You don't sound like you're planning on staying with them."

I snorted a dead laugh but when I looked over I knew he meant what he said. The bracer on his wrist glittered malice. What chance did he have of escaping? Really? What pain had I consigned so many of them to, even in trying to help. It furthered my goal. I clung to the stale promise. He saw a way out though, even if I didn't. But why him over the others, we couldn't take them all. "Fine," I said, "I hope you've made the right decision." I proffered a hand. He shook it.

***

A couple of minutes later the rest of the Argonian Defence Front found me. They were all there, though Tehei was fussing over a cut in Hides back.

"We need to get moving," said Grey-tail, "We think a couple of Dres escaped, they will bring warriors and slave hunters."

"What of the slaves?" I asked.

"They're free."

"They won't get far," it needed saying, though by his expression it had already been said.

"No, we should help them," agreed Keel-ha.

Hassde shook his head slowly, "We could, and maybe we should. But to what avail? There is no way we could get them all away, more likely the group would be recaptured as one. Us too. We have made our move, if they scatter at least it will cost the Dres time and money, some will make it."

"It is wrong," said Keel-ha, "We are responsible. If we abandon them now then the Front is ruined. The Twin Lamps already disapprove, this would tip them over to hostility."

"I will not risk being captured again." Hides spoke with such vehemence that she cut through the conversation, "And to help would cost us time. We must strike again while the memory of this night is fresh."

"Exactly," said Grey-tail, "This leaves the Dres in a panic, each will look to defend themselves. They will be divided and afraid, but only briefly. We must seize this moment. When we hit the holding pens we will release tens of times more than here, we will be the new power in the movement and the Twin Lamps will cease to matter. It is for the greater good that sacrifices must be made." Hassde and Kieras nodded their agreement, Grey-tail continued, "We go south, now."

Keel-ha looked unhappy, "I still say this is wrong. But I accept it's for a greater end. Very well."

I said nothing. I could not bring myself to speak against helping them. But even if I could not argue for it I could condone it. To do otherwise would betray my own goal. I allowed their decision to take my guilt. Okun fidgeted beside me. I spoke, "Very well. We go south, but Okun here comes with us."

"No," said Grey-tail, "We cannot help any individual, we will not be slowed."

"He comes with us." I said it quietly and stood.

"I am commander and I say we travel as before. We will not make concessions."

Slowly, deliberately, I walked up to him. He was taller but he flinched slightly anyway. "Commander," I spat, the spittle plopped between his feet, "Do you think for a moment this would have worked without me? It would not have. I have proven my loyalty to the cause in blood, my willingness to risk death, my ruthlessness in dealing with the enemy. Okun comes south with us or you go alone. I have more experience than any of you. So, commander, what will it be? Which will hamper you more? Does he come south, or do you abandon my skills?"

The challenge was set. His face was cauldron of emotion; rage and confusion stirred together. The faces behind were fascinated, waiting for the outcome. At length he answered, "Very well. If you vouch for him he may come, but he is your responsibility."

"Southward then," I said.