That night, in solitary, Garrun struggled to sleep. Again, he was haunted by the Whisper. But this time, the words were accompanied by a flurry of images.
The words came hissing out of the ice: Garrun...Garrun...Garrun...
He saw a circle of elders huddled at the centre of a marble hall. Wind tugged at their cloaks. Hoods concealed their faces. Pillars of yellow sepstone loomed over them, draping them in shadow.
There was a shout, and the elders suddenly parted, scattering about the hall. Some scarpered to the shelter of the marble pillars; others leapt into the air and soared up, towards the hall's cavernous ceiling.
At the centre of the hall was a pool of blood, and in the middle of the pool was a body, its silver skin stained red.
A woman. Her long, golden hair was matted with congealed blood. Her three arms were splayed wide. She had unusually-sharp features - especially for the blocky-headed Orr'un race - which made her highly unattractive by Orr'un standards. Dangling around her neck was a green pendant on a silver chain.
The hair...the face...the pendant...Garrun recognised her at once. She was...
The words came in a thunderstorm, overriding all thought: Garrun...Garrun...Garrun...
A lake, forested by giant, red leaves. The sky was mottled orange, which shimmered off the lake's clear waters. Birds twittered as they flew across the sky.
The lake was empty, barring one small boat, which drifted towards the lakeside harbour: a small jut of rock with a primitive boatman's hut sat upon it. On the boat was a dark figure. The boat arrived at the harbour and the figure stepped out onto the rock, lashing the boat to a wooden post in the ground.
The figure was an Orr'un man with broad shoulders, a squarish face, and a thick brow. Tightly-curled strands of black hair trailed down the man's shoulders. He looked almost Garrun's spitting image.
Garrun's eyes widened. That man, he was...
'Stymio!' came the shout from the boatman's hut. Out came running a woman with golden hair and a sharp face. It was the woman from the previous vision, Garrun realised, the one who had been lying in a pool of blood. Her face was split into a broad smile.
'Ellesst!' As the woman ran to him, Stymio wrapped her up in his arms and spun her round, laughing.
Garrun...Garrun...Garrun...
Garrun saw the lake, gleaming golden in the sunset. There was a boat, both with gold-haired Ellesst and square-faced Stymio inside. Their silver skins shimmered in the orange light.
'...has been months,' Ellest finished, breathless with excitement. Her smile had yet to falter. 'Yet my heart's strength does not wane for you.'
He grinned back. 'I love you, Ellesst Verea, and I will to the end of my days.'
If it was possible, her smile broadened. 'I love you too, Stymio Axii.' She paused. 'So what has changed with you?' She paused again, and a hint of sadness crept into her eyes. 'Are you still a warrior?'
Stymio nodded slowly. 'Yes. They call me Stymio "de Tiorne", now - "the Wild One". Apparently I did good in the Siege of Yhy'tu.'
Ellesst's face turned to stone; her smile faltered. 'But did you do good for the people of Yhy'tu, or was it good for the Orr'un?'
Stymio frowned. 'What do you mean? Of course it was good for the Orr'un - that's the whole point! We're a step closer to finishing this blasted war with the Krennoans. Glory to the Conquest, and all that...' He sighed, and the sudden sharpness of his words vanished. 'Anyway, what have you been up to?'
'I - I've been meeting with the Diaa'sarn,' Ellest stammered, bowing her head. 'They've...started teaching...me...'
Stymio frowned. 'And?' he asked simply, voice empty.
She gulped. 'I have a new name, too. Not Ellesst anymore, "Ki'on". It means "Calmwater." I...I have water affinity. I can read the Dead Sea Scrolls. Apparently I have Mer heritage that I was unaware of.'
Stymio nodded slowly and inhaled sharply. 'You going to become a shimmer-tail, then?'
'Merfolk,' Ellesst corrected. 'And I'm not sure. We'll see. It won't be for a long while, though; I only recently began my Path.' At Stymio's grave look, she added, 'I know how you feel about the Mer, but I assure you, not all of them are like Lipl-'
'Don't call her "Lipl",' Stymio snapped. 'You make her seem like a normal person. No, her name is Xal, the Traitor of Yvean, Feaster of Sanguine, Flocker of Greatsharks.'
Garrun could sense the man's agitation: Stymio's hands balled to fists. He had heard of Xal the Traitor: she was a Merfolk pirate and had murdered his grandparents.
'Do not call her a common name like "Lipl",' Stymio exclaimed. 'You make her seem ordinary. She was extraordinary - extraordinarily vile!' His final words came out as a shout so sharp Ellesst flinched.
'Stymio...' Ellesst soothed, placing her hands on his shoulders. 'It's alright...'
'No! Get off me, witch!' Stymio pushed her hands away and got to his feet sharply, face tense.
The movement was enough to jostle the boat. Ellesst yelped as she tripped and toppled over the side.
Stymio's eyes widened. He ran to the edge of the boat, but Ellesst had already sunk beneath the water. He let out a shout and readied to dive in after her, when suddenly the waters began to churn and foam, coiling around the boat.
'No...' Stymio gasped. 'Ellesst! Ellesst! I'm-'
His words were drowned out by a furious growl. A pillar of foaming water shot up from the lake, engulfing the boat and it was lost from sight.
Garrun's mind raced. No...No, this isn't...Please don't let it be...
As the water pillar crashed back down to the lake, the boat reappeared. Stymio was gone, but Ellesst was there, sobbing and nursing her stomach.
'No, Stymio, no...I'm...I'm so sorry...' she choked, rubbing her stomach. 'I never...I never got to tell you...'
She swallowed. 'Garrun. I will name him Garrun, after your father. He will be a warrior, the greatest warrior of the Orr'un. And he will carry your title, in your honour. Garrun de Tiorne, he shall be known.'
And for a final time, the words stampeded across Garrun's mind: Garrun...Garrun...Garrun...
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