IABD 29: Spoils from Battle and the Music of the Soul

Matthias Stonebreaker stared up at the cloudy sky, wondering if he had lost his mind. 

He rubbed his eyes, blinked, glanced away, then looked up again. 

It was still there: a carriage of a dead black hue, flying smoothly as though travelling on solid ground.  

“What?” he gasped. 

“Mother…” Dagma murmured. “What’s-Ah!” 

Beggahasta grabbed her daughter, leaping from the top of the crevice wall.  

She landed beside her son, lifting him off his feet—tucking him under one arm as though he weighed nothing—and darting deeper within the crevice. The stony gap narrowed, with rock and bush covering it over top, obscuring the family from above. 

Beggahasta released her children, drawing Tallis. 

“Quiet,” she whispered. 

Matthias let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding; a heartbeat hadn’t passed between his mother grabbing and putting him down. There had been no time to react: it felt as though he’d been standing on top of the cage a blink ago, then deep in the crevice the next.  

Her speed had been shocking. 

‘I had no idea how powerful she really is,’ he realised, glancing at her.  

He exchanged a look with Dagma, both siblings peeked through a small gap in the rocks and bush above them. 

The black carriage was cutting through the air at shocking speed, heading northward. So high in the sky it flew, that even his sharp eyes could not decipher many details. Four clouds—shaped like horses—galloped across empty air, pulling the carriage at speed. 

Within moments, it disappeared from view. 

“What was that?” Matthias murmured. 

“Do you think it was Altaizar’s mother?” Dagma asked. 

“Could be.” Beggahasta gripped her sword. “But that was not how she travelled when I last saw her: I am not too keen to find out it’s not her while alone here with my children in the woods.” 

She looked at Matthias. “We need to move: get your prize from the cage. We’ll head deeper in the woods, and I will send the dragonfly for Altaizar.” 

“What about the gnoles?” he asked. “Some of them are still alive.” 

“You broke them…but you’re also right, they have had a taste of human blood. I’ll have to take care of the rest of them while you collect the tiger.” Glancing to the sky again, she slipped through the crevice, heading to the valley. “I’ll come and find you when my work is done.” 

With a single bound, she leapt to the top of the wall and hurried away. 

Dagma and Matthias nodded to each other and went to get the tiger. 

As they ran, Matthias could already hear gnoles dying. 

Quickly. 

### 

“We made it.” Matthias sighed, setting the tiger’s body beside him in the forest. 

“It didn’t take us very long either,” Dagma panted, hands on her knees. The young girl looked up through the canopy, seeing nothing unusual in the sky. “I really think that was Altaizar’s mother, you know. It would make sense.” 

“I’m not so sure.” Matthias scanned the clouds through the gaps in the branches above them. He flinched as an object darted through the air, quickly realising it was just a bird. “Altaizar thinks Bregindoure’s tower was sabotaged: which means Eklund was most likely bringing mages to do his dirty work. Who knows who was in that carriage? Or even what…” 

He thought about Sur Friya’s misgivings about the south. 

“I could even be an elven carriage,” he said. 

Dagma swallowed. “The colour…do you think it was Gallus the Black’s carriage?” She looked up at him, her face growing pale. 

Matthias’ heart skipped a beat. “I don’t think so, and I really hope not.” 

His mind turned to the stories he’d heard of the battlefields to the south. The High General of the Artenesian armies, Gallus the Black, had led the elven forces—along with their scourges and other mutated slave-monsters—in leaving a red path of ruin, cutting entire realms in half, in their wake. 

“If that was him, we probably would have heard he was coming a long time ago.” Matthias shuddered. 

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Dagma sighed hopefully, crouching down, pressing her back against an ancient tree. “Hey, Matthie. You said you’d thought of how you’re going to help Breg?” 

Matthias tore his eyes away from the sky. “I have an idea. But…let’s wait until mother gets back before I say anything.” 

“Do you really think it’ll work?” She looked up at him. 

“I do. I’m not a hundred percent sure, but I think it will. And—” 

Quiet footsteps approached. 

Matthias and Dagma stopped talking. 

She reached for her dagger. 

His gauntlets swelled, turning obsidian. 

“It’s only me,” came their mother’s voice as she emerged from the trees. 

On her back was the disassembled tiger cage, in one hand she gripped Tallis—coated in red—and in the other, she held her son’s spear, hammer and sword. 

“Any sign of that carriage again?” Matthias asked. 

“No.” Beggahasta eyes flicked up to the sky. “Not since it disappeared to the north. We should leave this place quickly, then send the dragonfly to Altaizar.” Her eyes were almost pleading with Matthias. “And you must tell me what you have thought of to save your brother.” 

Deeper in the forest, Beggahasta opened the dragonfly’s cage. 

Inside, Altaizar’s dragonfly stirred. Rising up on many legs, it buzzed into the air on iridescent wings—circling the Stonebreaker family—before soaring away to disappear into the canopy. It would lead mage back to them. 

“I don’t know how long it will take to reach Altaizar’s tower.” Beggahasta watched the magical insect fly off. “But we should remain here and be sure not to draw attention to ourselves.” 

 Matthias set down the massive body of the tiger, stretching his back. His muscles burned from its weight, despite his newfound strength. “Good idea. Hopefully, we won’t have too long to wait.” He thought about Bregindoure imprisoned. “The faster we get back, the better. I need to talk to Altaizar.” 

Both Dagma and Beggahasta looked at him sharply. 

“Okay, mother’s here,” his little sister said. “So, tell us your plan.” 

“Yes, please do,” his mother added. 

He took a deep breath. What had seemed so sure when he was standing above the body of the tiger now felt far less certain. His plan was less plan and more…hunch, than anything else.  

Part of it was built from pure emotion and gut. 

Another part came from a sort of ingenuity that was born from a level of desperation that he hoped would work. 

But it was the best idea he had come up with so far. 

So, he shared it with his mother and sister, the other two people who knew Bregindoure as well as he did. 

Matthias spoke to Beggahasta. “I’ll need you to teach me the song you sing and play for Breg in his tower. I know the lullaby you play for me will be burnt into my mind until the day I die; so, I think the song you play for him could cut through his rage in a way that talking to him won’t. Like your warrior-friend said: music can soothe beasts, and if it can reach a wild beast, then I’m sure it can reach Bregindoure even through his rage. He’s no beast.” 

Beggahasta’s eyebrows rose. “That just might work!” 

“But I don’t think it’s going to be the only thing we need to do,” Matthias continued. “He doesn’t just experience ordinary fits of rage: they’re forced on him by a burning rune branded on his skin and soul by one of the gods, which one of them that is, no one knows. There’s nothing natural about what happens to him, so I was thinking we would need something supernatural to help him.” 

“Like what?” Dagma leaned in, her eyes shining. 

“We would need Altaizar’s help, and my plan also has to do with something you once said, mother.” Matthias looked at the tiger’s eyes: windows to the soul, forever closed now. “You said that if Bregindoure could see his beautiful soul, he’d stop thinking of himself as a beast, right? I—might—have a way to show him. I’m not completely sure, but I might.” 

Beggahasta leaned forward. “How?” 

He explained. 

At first, they looked confused. 

But, the more he talked, the more understanding dawned in their eyes. 

Understanding, and hope. 

“That…that all makes sense!” Dagma cried. “It’s complicated, but it’s simple too.” 

“We’ll need to discuss your idea with Altaizar immediately.” Beggahasta’s tone was fierce. “If he can do what you say, then…oh by the Ascended, I think it truly could work! Here, let’s talk about it more while we harvest what we need from the tiger.” 

They continued discussing his plan as Beggahasta taught Dagma how to remove the congealing blood from the creature’s veins using The Gift. 

The demonic beast’s teeth were harvested next, as were the claws: they had value when honed into weapons or tools. Lungs, heart, liver and several bones were taken to be preserved: they could be sold to alchemists to make valuable potions for high prices. The coin would see the family through the winter. 

Beggahasta showed Matthias how to remove the creature’s hide without ripping it. Once the grisly task was done, she held up the pelt with a dubious expression, eyeing the many holes the spikes had left in the beast. 

“Sorry,” he apologised sheepishly, seeing the evening sun shining through the holes. 

“It’s alright,” Beggahasta sighed. “Better to fight with all your might and damage the hide, than fight too cautiously and let the beast slay you. Besides, it’s difficult, but with The Gift…” 

She frowned, fixing her eyes on the damaged pelt. “Be whole.” 

Her powerful words struck the air and the coat shimmered beneath her will. Slowly—as though fighting her command—the holes closed, leaving the hide as good as new. 

Beggahasta let out a deep breath. 

Matthias stared at his mother. “I never saw you struggle with The Gift before.” 

She took another deep breath. “Commanding living animals is a lot more difficult than commanding the inanimate, and using The Gift on things once living is still a challenging art that I was never all that good at.” 

She looked down at Dagma. “One important thing to remember: everyone tends to have certain things that they find easier to command with the Gift than others. There are the general degrees of difficulty that apply to all Gift Wielders: harder, denser things are more difficult to command then softer, more malleable ones; it’s harder to command something to go against its nature, than to do something that’s in its nature; larger things are harder to command than smaller things; objects owned by mortals are much more difficult to command than objects unsecured and so on. But keep this in mind: you will always find things that you are individually better at commanding than others. Stone likes to listen to me, for example.” 

She gave the tiger’s hide a stern look. “The corpses of once living things? Not so much. Oh, and try not to make it too obvious what you are good at commanding and what you are not: enemies will use that information against you.” 

“I understand, mother.” Dagma nodded, eyes fixed on the beast’s remains. “Should we get the core?” 

“Yes.” Beggahasta looked at her children. “Let me show you both how to do it.” 

Their mother guided them through the final steps of harvesting the beast’s core. 

After a few minutes, Matthias stepped away from the remains, holding a sphere no bigger than a pebble in his hand. It was perfectly round, with a golden hue to it: inside, he could see the manifestation of a pair of golden wings. 

“I was right,” he said. “It’s the symbol of Sargon-Baal.” 

“It is,” Beggahasta agreed. “Priests of his church will pay a hefty sum for this: such a core will help them in their divine rituals and provide powerful materials for crafting their relics in his name.” 

“I like the sound of that,” he said, offering the core to his mother.  

She examined it, then shook her head. “The price for the creature’s organs will help fill our family’s coffers for a time. You should keep this for yourself: who knows if the core cold be very useful for someone who practises Divine Breath? Besides, if anyone should benefit from this hunt: it should be you. You earned it: it’s your first great kill.” 

He swallowed, focusing on the core, clenching his fist around it. “I’ll use it wisely.” A memory suddenly struck him. “Mother, Dagma! I just remembered this: something strange happened when I was fighting the gnoles and the tiger. As they died…this odd ethereal substance left their shadows and went into mine!” 

“What?” Beggahasta cried. “Are you alright? 

“Yeah, are you okay, Matthie?” Dagma asked. 

“Yeah, I feel no different.” He patted his body from head to toe, then examined his shadow. His body was intact, his shadow looked much the same as it always had—a little darker perhaps, but that had been the case since he’d gone off the cliff—and the tentacle had not changed since he’d Awakened to Divine Breath. “Nothing’s really changed. I’m no better or worse.” 

“We don’t know what deities you cultivate and we don’t even know where that shadow-tendril comes from.” Beggahasta’s eyes stayed on his shadow. “It could be anything…I’ll try and look into it once we can execute your plan to help your brother. Will you tell Altaizar about those things? 

Matthias thought carefully. “I don’t think so, not for now. I’d rather this stay between us until I can confirm if this is part of my Divine Breath. I don’t think I’ll be sharing it with anyone else yet.” 

“Wise,” Beggahasta agreed.  

“So, what now?” Dagma asked.  

“Now we wait.” The warrior-woman crouched beside a tree. “Altaizar should be here soon.” 

### 

It took the better part of the evening for the mage to arrive. 

The sun had just begun to turn orange when they spotted him flying low over the trees—the dragonfly flitting along beside him—seeking out the Stonebreaker family with his grey eyes. 

“Here! Down here!” Matthias waved, calling out to him. 

“Over here!” Dagma waved. 

“Altaizar!” Beggahasta called. 

The mage paused, then floated down through the canopy. 

“So, you succeeded!” Altaizar appraised the remains of the tiger. “Well, do you feel like you have a better idea of how to approach the fight in your dreams now?” 

“I do!” Matthias said, eyes on the position of the sun. Night was falling. Soon it would be time to enter the dream-realm. 

“Master Altaizar, did you see that carriage?” Dagma asked. “The black one flying through the sky?” 

The mage froze. “No…no I did not. Did it have any symbols on it?” he asked quickly. 

“Not that I saw,” Matthias said. “But it was too far up to see details. Mother, could you see anything?” 

“No,” Beggahasta admitted. “All that I’m sure of is that it was heading north.” 

“It could have been my mother…but it’s also odd.” Altaizar mused. “If it was her, she should have reached my tower by now. Or we should have at least crossed paths when I was on my way to find you. Very strange. But, no matter, I will watch for her. Alright then, let me call the wind and we’ll be on—” 

“Wait, Altaizar. I need a favour from you.” Matthias stepped forward. “I think it’ll be key to saving my brother.” 

“Oh really, what do you need?” Altaizar asked. “How can I help?” 

“That lens you used to channel the lightning to strike my soul...” 

“It’s called dream glass.” 

“That! Do you have any more of it?” 

Altaizar’s eyebrows rose. “I do…but it’s very rare. Why do you ask?” 

“I need you to make something from it. Can you use The Gift to do something like that? I need to borrow it for a bit.” 

Altaizar considered the request. “Depending on what you need me to craft…I can re-shape it temporarily. Why, what do you have in mind?” 

Matthias took a deep breath. “I guess the best way to put it is: Bregindoure’s salvation.” 

If the mage could craft what Matthias needed... 

He’d have to fight Bregindoure in his dream long enough, and fast enough, to help him before the Nightmare-knights showed up. 

His window of time was narrow. 

But it was all he had. 

He had five nights in the dream world to save his brother. 

There was no time to spare.  

He had to get to work tonight. 

###

Author's Note

Next chapter is massive! So massive that it was originally supposed to be posted today to get the top tier to chapter 30 (a total of 24 chapters ahead of the public release) but...editing's taking longer lol. So it'll be posted likely tomorrow!

Cya later!