Aporeu chronicles Issue 97: Cahir's Coda
Stories from the adventurers
This week
Wow,what a story. And definitely not for the faint of heart.
Cahir's Coda by Cahir
(Editor's note: This story is not for the fainthearted as it involves gruesome scenes and the death of many, young and old alike. If you read any further, we, the Chronicles, will not in any way or form be held responsible for the possible damage caused to the mental health of you, the reader. The reader shall be held solely responsible for the aforementioned affliction as it is the reader's choice to proceed from hereon.) These last weeks have been very difficult for me. I had been doing my final preparations, as I thought that I had finally come to the end of my story, to the end of my suffering. I felt regret with everything I did. Regret with every step and breath I took. Shame for lying towards Shi’Liane, towards Alyr, and towards myself. The only thing keeping me going was the notion of vengeance. I was counting the days, minutes and seconds for this moment. Finally, it had arrived, I was waiting in the guildhall for my companions before heading towards Lore. At the guildhall, I met up with Quen, Noaz, Effie and Master Medjine. The latter two I did not know. Nevertheless, I was grateful for their help with my personal crusade. We went towards Lore’s office and were informed on the group I wanted to obliterate, they were called the Bloodpack and were moving north alongside the river Mosa from the southern mountains of Brittania. The description of this group was an exact fit with the ones I was looking for. Finally! Finally, the time had arrived to eradicate them, to slaughter them, to dance upon their corpses! Lore had arranged a sloop for our departure so we went towards the docks and met up with captain Harmon. The captain explained how long our trip would take and that we would not be in danger by the wildlings if we kept to the west side of the river. Eventually, Master Medjine and Noaz noticed a body being pulled out of the river by some fishermen on the riverbank. Initially, we did not mind it, just a poor sod who was unlucky. But after a couple of minutes, the people on the shore made a scene and were screaming so Master Medjine ordered the boat to stop. No! We were so close, just a little bit further for my salvation. Alas, we had already docked. With not much else to do I joined the rest as they went up to the fishermen and we saw what they had pulled out of the river. It was an ugly humanoid creature of the sea. Looking at this dead creature we noticed its pale blue skin and the bundle of seaweed it had for hair. Then I saw her eyes. Those blue eyes! Those deep blue eyes reminded me of my mother… While I was lost in thought the others noticed something in her hands, something with arcane power. Noaz, not daring to touch the object, just lopped of both of her hands and carried it over to Quen as he tried to get some insight on the nature of this sphere. Meanwhile, master Medjine began to do some sort of ritual. Suddenly the dead creature began to move and respond. I could not believe my eyes. How beautiful, how exhilarating! Unlike the voices which only I hear, Master Medjine can project the communication of the dead to everybody! He certainly deserves the title of Master! Apparently, she was killed by some mad sorcerer and did not really know much about the Bloodpack. So, I decided to bury her and we moved on, returning to our sloop to continue the journey. It appeared that Noaz was also experienced in sailing as his experience allowed us to continue our journey through the night. With that, we quickly made our way south. When night came, I could not sleep. It had been a long time since I was this far south, this close to the place which I once called home. It was difficult for me to keep my mind sharp. The nightmarish scene engraved in my mind, every time I closed my eyes, I saw it again. I saw my father's severed head, his eyes looking at me with a distinct dull glaze over them as if he is judging me. I hear my mother begging, pleading and screaming for her life while I run away. The cacophonous laughter of those savages always follows me. With every inch we move closer, the sounds got louder and louder. I could feel it, we were getting near. Lost in thought, unbeknownst to me, morning had come. After a while we saw some animal carcasses in the river, there were cows and sheep floating upstream. As they passed us we tried to investigate their cause of death. We found some barbed arrows on them. It had been so long that I was not sure if these were the same arrows from that night. However, I felt it. Deep within I knew we were getting close. My hands started to itch, my mind going numb, I was thirsting for blood. Just like a drunkard craving for one more glass of ale, I craved for their blood. I was getting impatient. One moment, my pet is acting up and distracting me, he too is apparently getting impatient. I will be back and continue this story in a bit. Now, where was I! Yes, my pet! He was talking a bit too much so I went and fixed that… permanently. I retrieved my masterful kit produced by the one and only Master Brokil, pried his mouth open and… (This part of the story is redacted by the Chronicles as most of it was covered in blood and was incomprehensible) Back to the story. Ah now where was I, I almost forgot. Arriving at a village called Auberrac we saw the destruction which had taken place. We were too late. This village had been raided. Those monsters had again done their dirty deed! The signs of destruction were present in every nook and cranny of this village. Most of their inhabitants either killed or maimed. Blood was splattered everywhere and almost all of the buildings and houses were destroyed. How many people have they hurt since that day? How many innocents have died at their hands? Why did I not return sooner? Why was I so afraid? No, this was not fear anymore. I just wanted to be done with it, either them or me. When we stepped onto land, a lady arrived in front of us and asked for some food, she was missing an arm. These poor souls, they have lost everything. I gave her some rations and she immediately left without saying thanks. I do not blame her. Moving further we saw an older man, his eyes looked hollow. Just like mine did. A young woman was sitting next to him, all covered in cuts and bruises. We tried to talk with the man and get some more information but he would not listen. I tried to explain to the man that he was lucky to have survived, most do not. My village did not… I wish I did not… However, in his anger, he did not notice that we shared the same fate, he became angry and finally told us that the savages went west and we should leave lest an accident would occur. I understood his anger. Fret not old man, I would also make them pay for Auberrac. Looking at my friends I thought, no, we would make them pay. Moving west to a close-by village called Borlogne, Quen was worried about an ambush and notified us that we should be cautious of the Bloodpack having made a base in the next village. He thought it was suspicious that this village was unharmed while the village next to it was raided. I did not agree, those savages would not think of such things, at most this would be their next target. While we were discussing this, I heard a familiar sound, the sound of an arrow whistling in the sky. Then I saw it. Just like the night from back then. A burning arrow through the sky. I was mesmerized by it and kept looking with awe. Those flaming arrows were illuminating the night sky, just like falling stars… As if they were representing the death of each innocent person. Noaz started to run and soon I and the rest followed. When we arrived at the village, I saw them, we had found them! We engaged them and slaughtered all of them one by one. Quen did his usual thing and made the fight a breeze like usual. Lady Effie incinerated her targets one by one with her amazing control over fire. Master Medjine used some peculiar form of arcane power as he conjured a small doll resembling his targets and inflicted his wounds upon the target by piercing and ripping the doll apart. I also used some of my arcane powers before closing in but there was not much left to do. Finally, Noaz subjugated the last foe and we had a nice chat. He informed us that they were just trying to get some fun before the main group would arrive. Fun? Fun! I would show him the meaning of fun! Were these the wolves I was afraid of? I asked him some more questions, taking the form of one of theirs I saw that night 12 years ago, acting as if I used to be a part of them. The good sir Lambert gave me a certain name, Berengar. That was what their leader was called. Apparently, they were camping a bit to the north, on the edges of the forest. Now I finally had a name and a location to unleash my wrath upon. I could see that Noaz was also getting a bit impatient. He seems to have grown into a formidable adventurer. Unlike the first time I saw him, he was able to hold himself in the face of death. It seems he even craves it. Quen was talking about something but I did not listen. Imagining what to do with my new friend Lambert, I suddenly wanted to eat some pancakes with some strawberry jam. So I conjured an ornate warhammer, and flattened his head. To my surprise, Noaz also joined in on the meal! Oh, right Quen was saying something! He was talking about using the late Lambert as a guide but unfortunately, he passed away. So we just had to make do with his last words and head north towards the forest after we took a night's rest at this village.
Moving silently through the forest, Quen and I took the appearance of the savages we felled in the village of Borlogne while the rest set up for an ambush. However, it appeared that these savages were quite perceptive as they noticed our approach. So we immediately engaged them. There appeared to be a sickly boy who quickly darted away and hid from the oncoming onslaught. Also, a lady ran away during the chaos. How unfortunate to have been caught by these savages. Nevertheless, the sword of the people, the brave Noaz rushed towards the savages without a second thought. How courageous, how heroic, how noble. Lady Effie burned one of their tents without showing any mercy and saved another lady from within, she was clearly intent on obliterating these vile men. Quen blinded them, conjuring a sphere of darkness, blocking off their escape as well as blinding most of their archers. Master Medjine again made use of his arcane powers, eradicating the savages one by one. I too did my best, however, I was so distracted by the thought of getting my revenge that I forgot what to do. Suddenly from a tent in the back, what seemed to be their leader showed up. He must be Berengar! Now, this was the person I was looking for! Unlike the rest of these pups, he wore a cloak made out of wolven pelt with the top part of the head still attached to it. My eyes lit up, my mind went blank. The voices… The voices of the innocent kept on whispering into my mind and they demanded blood, they were thirsty! Quen then put four of the savages to sleep. Now only one archer and Berengar himself were standing. Then, Master Medjine rooted Berengar with his arcane powers. Slowly walking towards the final archer, I threw away my shield and unsheathed my longsword, causing a dim moonlight to emanate from the blade accentuating the beauty of this moment. While passing the first sleeping savage I let my longsword enter his chest. It felt like pushing a hot knife through butter, no resistance, gravity did all of the work. It was like a piece of art, a corpse with a moonlit longsword sticking out of it. Truly sometimes I wonder if I should have pursued the finer arts. I seem to have a knack for these things. But I digress, moving on to the next one I jammed my rapier through his throat, ending his measly life and continued onward to the final archer standing. Seeing me pluck the lives of the other two, Lady Effie incinerated the remaining two savages who were in the middle of their beauty sleep. Now only one archer and Berengar remained alive. Upon seeing the situation, the archer ran away. I am not sure what went through the mind of the small boy but he suddenly gathered all his courage and tried to intercept the man running away. However, he was quickly knocked out cold by a fist from the archer. Master Medjine and Lady Effie chased and hunted the man down while I returned to the still Berengar. Noaz was standing over him, just for a moment it seemed as if he would slay him. I was not sure what he was about to do. He got a little bit too excited but this was my prey. I specifically told them, he was special, he was mine! Luckily it only seemed so as Noaz stopped and we easily subjugated Berengar.
I asked myself, were these savages always this weak? How could they be so easily eradicated? I transformed into one of the men I had killed with so much difficulty all those years ago, Berengar remembered him as Roland. Apparently, they had grown weak due to some of his men dying, some leaving, and those who we just killed were the pups he was raising. That explains a lot. He wondered who we were, why we obliterated him. So, I showed him. I transformed into the appearance of my mother. He remembered her. Berengar told me that they let one kid slip away during that raid but they had gotten the pregnant mother I showed him. My mother… He laughed and told me what he did. That he had done her a favor by showing her the baby before he killed her. He cut her stomach! Pulled out my little sibling and then… and then he… they… killed her. They raised the baby as a pet, broke him, injured him, disfigured him, maimed him! I had heard enough! With that, I returned to my original form and everything clicked for poor Berengar. The kid that slipped away had come back. He noticed my resemblance to the figure of my mother I had shown him, the tanned skin, the black hair, and blue eyes. I tried to stay calm and informed him of what would happen to him for the remainder of his life. He had become my pet, my toy. I would enjoy this so much, I would take my time with him. I will cut him up and then heal him and then break him and then heal him and then again and again and again. I will torment Berengar for the remainder of his life. I will make him regret existing just like myself. I will bring him to the brink of death and then heal him up. This cycle will continue for as long as his mind and body will hold. I could hear the faint voice from my benefactor, the Archivist, trying to calm me down. Telling me to ignore the voices. No, no, no! Not even you, my benefactor, can interfere with this moment. I, Cahir, do not allow it!
Did you know that people who lose their toes have difficulty walking? I gently took off Berengar’s boots while calmly looking into his eyes. Never breaking eye contact. I do not want my new pet to run away so I conjured a dagger and slowly severed all of his toes except his big toes. I reached into my bag of holding and retrieved the leather pouch containing my tools, specially crafted by Master Brokil. Untying it and caressing the tools I slowly picked up the well-crafted needles and gently inserted them into his remaining toes and stumps. He could not pass out, I was very cautious to not let that happen. So, I even offered him a healing potion but he declined. The venerable Master Medjine seeing my struggles tended to his wounds and restored a bit of his vigor. How grateful I am for such a benevolent person to join me today. But my new pet still has much to learn otherwise it will not last long.
Finally done with Berengar, for now, I gathered all my courage to look at the boy... My little brother. Lady Effie was looking over him, nursing him and trying to calm him down. Slowly I walked up to him and saw his weak and sickly body. I did not know what to say. I saw his hair, raven black like mine, like our mothers. Our eyes the same shade of blue, no hope left within them. He was indeed my little brother. I felt our connection, we shared the same blood. But this… how could someone hurt an innocent little child so much? We all should have died that night…
“What is your name?” I asked. He said “Worm.” I couldn’t take this. How dare they call my little brother that! I told him who I was, who he was. I asked him if he would like to bear the name of his father. When I talked about our father he looked at Berengar… Did he think that piece of shit was his father? I told him about his father, his mother. I showed them to him. From now on he will be known with his valiant father's name, Dyffryn. Dyffryn extended his arms with much difficulty towards me, asking me to carry him. I happily obliged. “From now on your big brother will be there for you” I whispered as I picked him up. Oh, I am so sorry, I should have come sooner…
Screw this! I… I can’t take this. His presence beside me as I write this story is eating away at my sanity. The voices demand their justice. It should not be delayed any longer. My benefactor whispering in my mind to calm down is also maddening me. Dyffryn keeps peeking into the room thinking I don’t notice. Does he want me to kill Berengar? To see him tortured even more than he already is? Or does he just want to spend more time with his big brother? I wanted to enjoy this moment for as long as I could but it seems that as much that this is a torture for Berengar, it is also torturing me. Perhaps even Dyffryn? No, I can’t do this to him! This must end tonight. I will end this right now!
I am back again. It is done… Berengar is dead. I let the voices command each and every action I took, it was as if they were exacting their divine justice through me. I was so careful in order to extend our time together that in the process I used up all of my stock of healing potions. My arms were seemingly moving by themselves. I was performing tricks even I, myself, was astounded by. I had taken some of the more exotic tools and started to… (This part of the story is redacted by the Chronicles as most of it was covered in blood and the parts which we were able to decipher resulted in even for those of us at the Chronicles to not being able to keep the contents of our stomach where it needed to be. Seriously is it okay for this guy to look after a sick little brother, or even be an adventurer?) As I regain my senses I feel better somehow, perhaps even liberated? This nightmare which had been haunting me for almost 13 years, is it finally over? Weird, my eyes are beginning to fill up. Am I crying? Something must have gotten into my eyes. I need a breath of fresh air and my little brother needs to see more of Arnheim.
I will be honest. I was not planning on returning from this mission. This would have been my last one. I intended to end my life at the place I used to call home. Just as the cold and chilly winter had caused all the flowers to wilt, I too had intended to wilt at the same heather fields where this nightmare began. This mission would have marked the end of my story, the end of my song. A coda so to speak. But now I have found purpose again. I have found meaning again. I can not express my feelings, my emotions, with mere words. I will try my best, no, I know I will do my best for my little brother. Let this be a coda for the Cahir you once knew for I am reborn!
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