Liquid pours over his face, into his mouth. It is disgusting. rrin spits it over her face, and she jerks back, cursing. He nearly laughs, but knows the presence he is to maintain. So he seats on his ass, and indeed they surrond him. Countless, but smaller.
Tears simr in his eyes. "I see you."
And they wail like children. So slap their heads into the earth, against the heat, and cry. Many are unclothed, burnt off by the heat. So are scarred over the face and skin. Dark scald. Like him. They know this, he sees it in their eyes. They think this injury brings them closer to him.
What creatures they have beco.
A woman with a scorched head begins to shout. "We praise the sunBringer!"
They join, and soon the cave shakes in their tones. A vast cave, no doubt. rrin takes a mont to observe. The ceiling, like everything else, is high above, dark stone, lined with dull gold. He is sure of the aureate in them; they are far, but so value still exists in them.
What to do
The expanse is enormous, divided into three steps. Massive steps. He imagines from above, the castle looks like a giant stairwell. It takes several steps to reach the other side and two n to climb over it. All in dull gold-lined tal. Torches burn at irregular sides, casting unfocused illumination. So spots are darker, shadowed, others are brightened.
He wonders surging his strength for light. Pain laughs as he tries. Catelyn still sits beside him; she is quiet, unburned. There are soot smudges here and there, but she is still a beauty. And she cubs the rag, strangely, it shimrs with a blue glow.
"What's that?' He asks.
"One of your…people went back to find the wa—sweat source. He took one of the froststones from the stone buried. Soaked the cloth and fitted the stone into it."
"Keeping the moisture."
"Keeping the moisture." She looks to the side, and there is nothing important there.
"You were rough with the rag." He whispers.
"And you faked your sleep."
"I didn't." rrin says, "I couldn't wake up imdiately."
"Thank for changing that."
rrin regards her. "That wasn't yo—"
And she is up, walking away from the circle of witnesses. They watch her leave—oddly, it is like monsters watching a flower depart. Yes, they have beco monsters, deford by the flas….
But they are his people. Beautiful as the first day he saw them. And surely, soday, that beauty is to return.
He vows then to heal them.
A breath escapes his lungs as he scans the cave.
Shadows bend in a corner, and red orbs glare through. rrin startles, and it's gone. A figure, however, lingered in that shadow. It grows slowly, nacing. There is a need to fall into battle.
What is that?
A foot passes through the darkness, and a giant of a man, smiling, walks out. Ron! He is shirtless, scarred lines and bumps across his flesh. But he smiles. Gods, his smile is beautiful.
mory superimposes into the world, and rrin sees him, over the ground, dead, then red. The mory blurs as Ron stands before him. "Ma'rim." He says.
"Ma'rim." rrin responds.
Then there is a mont of silence between them—Ron smiles, but there is another in him. Confusion. How am I alive? His thoughts echo in rrin. A question he could not answer.
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How was Ron alive?
rrin shakes his head. Damnation on all of it. "I'm happy you live."
Ron nods and beholds the witnesses. They smile at him. They are happy for him. rrin believes they see him as a savior of their savior. The guardian of their god. Believes in belief.
The mythology deepens.
Davos is below, seated on the third step of the seven-step chamber. He is alone as always, head buried in his legs. But a sound cos from him; a whimper. rrin recalls the woman killed before him.
As always, he played the coward.
But he was not. rrin sees it clearly. His hands, stone or not, are worn, old. Likely from axe use, but there is a difference. They are intentional. Made to look that way. Trained to beco like that.
Who is he?
rrin thinks about Catelyn and Ron. Strong humans. He needs more like them. So he calls for Davos. This he receives by a tap from a witness. He nearly jerks at the scarred face that looks at him. Nonetheless, he climbs the steps, reaching. Now stands before rrin, sheepishly looking about. Ron, of course, is gone by then.
Like a beast caught within a trap, Davos seeks danger. They share a look, rrin at least does, he, on the other hand, tries as much as humanly possible not to lock eyes. rrin dismisses the witnesses; they refuse at first, but settle for three ters apart, still in the sa step.
It is just him and Davos.
He would be sothing of an aid, wouldn't he? rrin observes the man. Indeed, there was sothing hidden. He tries well to mask it, slouching, trembling, and fidgeting. But he sees it regardless. Well-toned muscles, a slender statue ford not from slavery but training.
He is sothing. Not a slave. Sothing.
I can make him useful. rrin thinks, but he is still a coward. Acts like it anyway. A mont and his mind composes a possibility—one that requires knowledge from this man. Information that broke the never-pry vow.
For the witnesses, he says, "Tell your story, Davos!"
There is a glint in his eyes—a mont, and it's gone, replaced by hysteria. rrin sees it as he searches for an escape—mind rattling for sothing, anything to say. He now regrets the early exclamation. That revealed information, now his lie must be finer.
It takes a minute, and he knows Davos has concocted his fib. "I am a woodsman."
rrin surprises him. "You wield the blade."
And he trembles. "That's a lie." He says, "I don't even look like a blademaster."
"So that is what you are called?"
Davos frowns. "I am not a blademaster!" He watches for confirmation. rrin sighs.
"You are what I know you are. But you choose to lie about it. You forget I am always aware."
He backs away. "I…I.." jabbering. "I don't know what you are talking about."
"Says the blademaster that lost his sisters." rrin hates the words he speaks.
Davos bears the full brunt of them. "You know nothing!"
rrin offers his hand. "Let absolve you of that guilt." He says, "Speak those words."
Davos steps back. "No!"
"You are truly then a coward."
"And what are you?" Davos accuses. "Say, what are you?"
rrin stands shorter than him. "I am the one before you. But how long will I wait? Davos, speak your words now and be free of it, or you will be left alone with it."
He turns away, furthering the distance.
So I can't turn him. rrin thinks, breathing the stinky air. He remains unsure of the musk source; him or the air. Yet, he watches the back of the man. Who knew he was a blademaster? ntation only provided the possibility of sword training—a blademaster? Now that was precious.
What a loss, it was
rrin swaths away the emotion, advances. Together, the witnesses fall behind him, silent, heads partially hidden in ragdark hoods. Most made from trousers. Odd. rrin imagines a world of naked n, draped in nothing but hoods.
He shivers at the thought, watching the distant sauntering slaves. Fear in their motions. They need reassurance.
He flexes the pained wrist—the ache remains—everywhere. In battle, he would be useless. This is the believed use of Davos. A blademaster.
How can I get him?
Get him? The inner voice. What a change you have undergone.
rrin stops, his eyes seal for a mont. Then he calls out to the wandering Ron. Voice loud through the vast cave—Many shook at the informality of his tones. Matters not. Sotis, he thinks, sotis they can see the human in their god.
They must see it to call to him.
Ron nears without aid, stronger. Mightier in form, sohow. There is no distinction in his state. Saness. But rrin knows the wrongness. A difference exists in the pure man. A starkness that ca from his own hands.
What have I done to you?
Ron has changed; he knows this. The man who once took a blow for him was gone. This was sothing else. A creature of strange tropism. Who was he? Where is Ron? rrin weeps within, feeding the internal emptiness. Everyone was changing. There is terror in that.
"Ai," Ron bows, hands folded. He looks strange without the bulky garnt.
"How is everyone doing?"
Ron nods. "They live. That is good. But they..weary."
"As expected." rrin says, "They fear what this place suggests. It is too big for a mine. They must have held the suspicions well, but this…this is a world."
"World below."
"Damantion." rrin sighs. "They think they have died in the fire. Now in the bosom of the rav'zul."
"Assure them," Ron says, leaning back. "Savior to them."
rrin understands, roaming his gaze through the chamber. n dot around--seized by great fear. Even the witnesses share in this terror, thus they follow him. He is their salvation, they believe; A repeating mantra to calm the senses.
He must impart that strength into all of them.
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