'The Villainous Cause' #1 -- Ilquinas and the Fatherless Child

The Plagesun's Progress

^{Interlude: Ilquinas and the Fatherless Child}


He stabbed at the meagre items arranged unappealingly on the small, fabric mat. He found it almost of interest that the locals ate off a canvas ‘platter’. It probably meant that they were accustomed to eating under duress. This method afforded them the best way to eat; either in a casual way or hurriedly stop eating and wrap their remaining food up to take with them for later. Used to trouble finding them, he thought. His next thought was to wonder what caused this trouble. Baym had been his birthplace and home for most of his time on Miranse. Only in the last decade, after his long slumber and having been roused by Vel Thurmathed, had he ventured off Baymish shores. Ventured might be the wrong word. More like sent from. This departure was surmised by him, as his master was not able to speak the instruction to depart. Brown was his commander and ruler. Unlike the other Colours, Brown chose not to, or could not verbalise its thoughts. Ilquinas had tried to sense if this was a ploy or if it were a thing that bothered his chosen Colour but so far, no answer had come to him. Vel Thurmathed... Ilquinas had not thought of his friend in many months. He wondered what the young man might be up to now. Thurmathed had planned to travel to Coaseth to entreat with the Houseland nobles. It was his idea to involve them more in Baym, offering them vessels to transport their troops and importantly their mounts, to Baym. Thurmathed hoped to create a space on Coaseth that in time would destabilise the south of that continent or at least strengthen the nation of Kreccidoc. Vel came from there. Ilquinas smiled. He had no nation to call home as Thurmathed did. His homeland had succumbed an age before. His home had been Solember. He fell into his long-sleep when the empire had been broken by its emperor’s hubris and familial ambition.


It was most likely during his slumber that he had contacted his companion-familiar. This was not with him before his sleep but was most definitely with him when he awoke. It had travelled with him constantly since then. Ilquinas had never seen its true form. He had only ever seen pieces of the creature. Some parts stayed always upon his right arm, attending him like sworn defenders to a feudal lord. These took the shape of oval spheres of Brown power. Those who had examined them – those who Ilquinas might acknowledge as capable healers – had named them sores or pustules. Ilquinas felt no ill effects from them, however, and so preferred the name given them by a Or’Rahn aesthete, ‘canker’. When needed his cankers could be relied on to lend Ilquinas their strength. He often needed their assistance. He suffered always from the damage that had been inflicted on him during the Breaking. While one of his Geli’Qys wings remained, the other had been torn from him by a Baymish Se’Ractor. The Se’Ractors were the fiercest of Baymish sailors, at home on the seas but equally adept inland. This aided them greatly as they were always raiding rival Baymish nations as well as the countries on the other continents. Ilquinas has dealt with his ‘executioners’ last year. They had succumbed to a disease of the airways being filled with fluid. It struck Ilquinas as fitting as his own execution had intended him something akin to this.The form of execution involved a person being roped between two sailing ships, which then sailed away from each other and preferably over shoals. In Ilquinas’ case the ropes had been attached to his wings. One of the ropes had frayed on the sharp coral of the reef the ships moved over and this was what saved him. As the Se’Ractors paused to replace the rope, the ships had been hit by the massive waves that were caused by the sundering of Iskm. In the resulting carnage, Ilquinas’ body was washed over the side. As he descended into the muted, red glow of the cove’s waters, he sought refuge in the long-sleep. He remained asleep for the proceeding centuries until awoken.


His thoughts moved. Focused upon the young woman before him. She had already asked him if he wanted more food. He wasn’t hungry. He told her so.

“Would do you good to try to eat something.”

“How would you know, child?”

No longer a child, having been married for two years now, with children of her own, Ota was a little insulted by the stranger’s words. Strangers needed to be respected though. Ota knew to be careful of people who traveled in small numbers – or alone, as this one did. She didn't feel like answering his question so tried one of own. “Your room is ready as it was last night. I noticed the bedding hadn’t been used?”

“That bothers you?”

“Not so much. I’m not your mother.” This was probably ruder than she meant it to sound.

“Heh, no, not at all. .. What of your mother? She lives?”

“I didn’t know either of my parents.”

“Regrettable?”

“Well, yes.” Ota found the man’s tone irritating.

“Your pardon. Humans are fond of their sires. I often am forgetful.”

“Well… I’m sure you’d have known yours?”

“No, that wasn't possible and for that I shall remain grateful.”

“Sounds wrong to me.”

“You have not known a Geli’Qys before.”

“Erm, a what-say?”

“My kind. Not so much a race as are the vastness or humanity. We sprang from the air fully formed, in the aeon of creation. Now, we are fewer than we were. Geli’Qys do not mate to produce offspring, only for conversation and gainful companionship. Time can be a long thing to a solitary.”

Ota was only able to absorb the words superficially, some of the meaning was lost on her. She found his tone compelling but at the same time she was fearful. She felt much as she had when she had been stalked by a feral xangcat, scared but fascinated by its dangerous approach.

“You never knew your sires. That is unusual I know, for a human.” the Geli'Qys said.

“I shouldn’t miss them but in a funny way I do. If you know what I mean?”

Ilquinas had no idea what she meant. He couldn’t comprehend a racial truth such as this, composed as he was of his own kind’s and his own, personal truth. Instead he inferred what he had to from her admission. He should have released his familiar earlier but he had been enjoying the relative calm of the country he had been in. With the girl’s statement, he recognised he should have been about his caste-craft sooner. He freed the cankers from his right arm. He looked to the woman.

“There are howling wings and sore-struggle that will come to you and your children’s children. When this is measured against the ever-deep cauldron of time, I am forced to ask, ‘What is the point?’. Life and death are not of consequence.”

“What-say?”

“Nevermind. It’s not a time for chat. That was earlier. You will leave now.”

“This is my place. I live here?” Ota said archly. The air of this man was unbelievable!

“Live… Yes, that is what you do here. Even so, you will leave here.” With that said, Ilquinas rose heedless of the cankers that spilled from his arm as he did. Ota noticed that there seemed to be many more of these on the table and even the floor, than had appeared on his arm to begin with. They seemed to be endlessly falling from Ilquinas, like heavy drops of a rain just beginning.


Shrugging his sole wing to adjust his beige cloak on his shoulders, the Geli’Qys known to some survivors as the Plaguesun, moved outside. He breathed the air shallowly. No need to overindulge himself. There was air enough to breathe yet. There would be some time before the taking of deep draughts of air would be at an end but not soon. Ilquinas knew that much. He looked forward to those moments and the momentous time afterward. Shrugging his cloak again, he lowered his hooded head in solemn adulation of what the Brown would wreak behind him. He stepped out into the sun. His shadow was lengthy and seemed to linger at the tavern doorway as he moved away. A trick of the light.


Dawn-light filled the sky and filtered into the small tavern’s main room through half-closed shutters. Here, there and over there, in shade and in shafts of sunlight, glistened canker-droplets of Brown. The woman lay in a shabby heap. She had slumped without care. Care had been removed from her, as well as all the rest of her, by the trembling droplets. Her eyes had been dewy and green. Now they glimmered Brown. Despite this notable change she was most certainly gone.