Post by Jjairr Wolfhound on Sept 8, 2011 23:11:04 GMT -5
(Written six years ago and modified today. The beginning is based on a roleplay between Darkmoon and Jjairr; the ending is fabricated entirely. Enjoy.)
What’s In a Name?
By Jjairr Wolfhound
Chapter One
Jjairr Wolfhound sat close to the fire in the Kada El’s Tavern, nursing her half full beer mug, lost in her thoughts. Her close friend, Ralas, had been discussing with her the mysteries of the Laanx Temple, the Dungeon, and the fabled Death Realm, when he had been called away by one of his other friends, leaving Jjairr to grapple the mysteries on her own. The young enkidukai’s brow furrowed in concentration, the heat of the fire causing beads of sweat to darken her ginger fur.
Staring at the hem of her tunic, Jjairr found her mind beginning to wander. She had just begun to set down her mug when a voice sounded in her ear.
“It’s a prison,” the voice murmured, causing Jjairr to jump and slop beer over herself. Jjairr cast her frightened blue eyes all around the dark room, but could see no one.
“Wh… What?” stammered the enkidukai, the fur on the back of her neck prickling.
“It’s a prison,” repeated the voice with a hint of humor. “The head in the Death Realm, of which you and your friend were speaking. It is a prison, containing the tortured souls of those considered unworthy to return to the world of the living.”
Jjairr continued to look about the room, peering into the shadowed corners, searching for the owner of the mysterious voice. “I don’t see you,” she said, glancing toward the ceiling’s thick wooden rafters. “Where are you?”
There was a small chuckle. “I am here… and yet, not here,” said the voice. Dark and mysterious, it continued, “Few people notice the snakes decorating the Laanx temple, like you were telling your friend about.” There was a thoughtful pause, and it added, “You would make a decent Explorer.”
Jjairr gulped. Something about this voice made her nervous. The fact that it appeared to have originated from no visible body didn’t help it much. She looked to her left, where the voice seemed to come from.
“I am Jjairr Wolfhound, of the Feline’s Lair. Who are you?”
Silence. Jjairr waited for an answer, ears straining. Finally, she heard the quiet whisper.
“Darkmoon.”
Jjairr heard a creak of footsteps as the voice’s invisible owner headed toward the door. Jjairr stood, still trying to catch a glimpse of this mysterious man.
“Wait!” the young enkidukai called. “There is more I would ask of you.”
The footsteps paused. “Take this dagger,” said the voice. “It is late. We will talk another time.”
Jjairr stared at the dagger that had appeared on the table in front of her, lodged point-first deep into the wood. She shook her head as if to clear it and asked, “How will I find y-“
The voice interrupted. “I will find you,” it assured her.
“But why do I need this dagger?” Jjairr asked, eyeing it skeptically.
“Trust me.”
Jjairr was quiet for a moment, then nodded. She reached forward, tugged the dagger from the table and examined it in the flickering firelight. It didn’t look particularly special, despite having materialized from nothing more than a whisper. The blade was short, plain; only the hilt, made of ivory and wrapped in golden wire, alluded to anything more than a common weapon. She tucked the dagger into her belt and returned her attention to the room, but absolute silence that followed confirmed her thoughts – she was alone in the tavern again.
It was an uncharacteristically quiet Jjairr that climbed the wooden steps of the tavern, heading to the third floor and into her rented room. After tossing her weapons onto the desk, the young enkidukai sank down onto the soft bed and closed her eyes. She sighed, head spinning with thoughts of the mysterious voice and the dagger lying next to her, and waited for sleep to come.
Chapter Two
Jjairr awoke to a loud crash of breaking pottery, followed by a curse from the tavern chef. Groggy, Jjairr raised herself up on one elbow. She shouted something rude to the chef before letting herself drop back down and rolling over to face the wall.
After a while the ginger enkidukai rose from her bed, knowing it was useless to even attempt to go back to sleep. The fierce rays of dawn light would see to it her eyes stayed open.
Casting a disgruntled glare at the beautiful morning sky, Jjairr belted on her dagger, but left her falchions still lying on the table. She hopped down the stairs, jumping the last five but still managing to land on her feet.
She began heading to the door, weaving her way between the tavern’s tables, and nodded to a pair of burly-looking male enkidukai out for an early morning drink as she passed. Jjairr paused at the door and sighed. She never had been a morning person.
As Jjairr began the short walk to the Plaza, the beautiful morning worked its magic on her, and by the time she reached her destination, her previous cranky mood had disappeared. She turned her feet in the direction of the library, smiling as she crossed the Plaza and vanished into East Hydlaa.
Jayose sat, lounged in a comfortable armchair, poring over a large leather-bound book. He looked up as Jjairr entered and nodded in greeting before turning back to the tome. Jjairr chuckled and turned to head up the sturdy staircase to the second level of the library. She weaved her way through the forest of bookcases until she came to the very back row.
Jjairr scanned the shelves, pulling down every book she could find that had “Laanx” on the cover. As Darkmoon had discovered yesterday, Jjairr and her friends were trying their hardest to solve the mysteries surrounding the Laanx Temple and Dungeon. And it required a lot of reading.
For the next few hours, Jjairr sat in her corner in the library. Whenever she found something interesting, she wrote it down, but other than that and turning the pages, she was still.
When she had completed the last book, Jjairr sighed and stood up. Yawning and stretching her tired muscles, Jjairr reviewed everything she had read. Most of the book pile had just been old wives’ tales and legends, and those books she hadn’t bothered reading. She had, however, found a few interesting points of information, and reminded herself to share them next time she saw Ralas.
Making her way back down the stairs, Jjairr nodded goodbye to Jayose and meandered back to the Plaza. Noticing the failing light, Jjairr sped up a bit and arrived at the tavern in a matter of minutes, her stomach growling. The fenki winced as she remembered that she hadn’t eaten breakfast, or even lunch.
Stepping into the tavern was like stepping into a puddle of icy water – quite a shock. No less than fifteen dwarves were sprawled around the room, each of them holding a very large mug of beer and roaring a rowdy drinking song at the top of their lungs. Jjairr clapped her hands to her ears and sprinted up the stairs, nearly running into the cook, who was just coming out of the kitchen, a full plate of steaming, delicious food balanced in his hands.
In the blink of an eye, Jjairr had snatched the plate and pressed some tria into the chef’s hand. In a desperate attempt to escape the noise, Jjairr leaped for the outside stairs that led up to the roof, the chef’s angry yells at her drowned out by the dwarves’ singing.
The noise difference was amazing as Jjairr sat down on the roof and began devouring her food. Cramming the chef’s famous garlic bread into her mouth, Jjairr began to wish she had gotten something to drink, but her rumbling stomach overruled her dry throat.
In what seemed like no time at all, Jjairr had finished eating. She pushed away the plate, now licked clean, and gave a contented sigh. Staring out over the peaceful city, Jjairr felt her eyelids beginning to droop, and had just stood up to go downstairs and face the chef’s wrath when the fur on the back of her neck began to prickle.
Chapter Three
Jjairr knew that feeling. She was being watched. Looking around, Jjairr attempted to spot the perpetrator, but could see no one. As that idea crossed her mind, Jjairr thought back to last night, and asked tentatively, “Darkmoon?”
The humor in his voice was evident as the reply came back, “Yes?”
Jjairr’s ears twitched as they strained to hear any form of movement to reveal where the mysterious voice came from.
“I still don’t see you,” she said. “Where are you?”
“Right beside you,” said the voice, sounding very close by.
Jjairr turned, gasped and stumbled a step backward. A middle-aged Ylian had appeared beside her, quite out of thin air. He grinned but stayed silent and waited for a few moments until Jjairr calmed down.
“How did you do that?” Jjairr questioned, wary of this strange Ylian.
“A spell called the Shroud of Darkness,” Darkmoon said. “Useful, isn’t it?”
Jjairr nodded. “Indeed.
They sat for a few moments, leaning against the railings on opposite sides of the roof. At length, Jjairr observed, “You have an interesting name. Darkmoon. Does it mean anything in particular?”
“It is more of a nickname,” said Darkmoon, shifting. “No one living knows my true name.”
Jjairr chuckled. “So many mysteries!” She watched him, her fingers toying with the hilt of the dagger.
“If someone knows your true name,” the Ylian said after a pause, “They have power over you. That’s why it is important to keep your true name secret from people. They might use it against you.”
Jjairr glanced over her shoulder at the staircase. “What happens if everyone knows your name?” she asked.
Darkmoon gave a small smile. “Jjairr Wolfhound is not your true name,” he assured her. “There is only one group of people who would know it right off, and I doubt your parents are included in that group.”
Flicking her tail, the curious enkidukai raised her eyes to lock with Darkmoon’s.
“Well? Who knows? Where can I find them?” she questioned.
“A master of the Crystal Way would know,” answered the stolid Ylian. “But they wouldn’t hand the information out willy-nilly. They would require something from you – a task, perhaps. Something dangerous, no doubt.”
Jjairr refused to be put off. “And are you a master of the Crystal Way?” she asked.
Sighing, he answered, “Ah, no. I dabble here and there, but nothing more.”
“Then do you know where I can find one?”
“Someplace highly magical, mysterious, or difficult to get to, no doubt,” Darkmoon said. “Masters of the Crystal Way never were known for their originality.”
Looking up, Jjairr noticed with a shock how late it was. Darkmoon seemed to be thinking along those same lines.
“I should be going,” he said. He stood up straight and looked toward Jjairr. “I will see you again sometime.”
Jjairr stood as well, and Ylian and Enkidukai shook hands.
“Thank you for talking with me again,” Jjairr said. “I’m sorry if I kept you from anything.”
Darkmoon shook his head. “Not at all, not at all.” Releasing Jjairr’s hand, he stepped toward the center of the roof. “Goodbye, Jjairr,” he said. He murmured a few words under his breath, and in a moment’s time, disappeared.
“Goodbye, Darkmoon,” Jjairr whispered to the night, before heading back inside Kada El’s.
Chapter Four
The following morning found Jjairr sitting on the edge of her bed, staring at the carved wooden desk beside her, as if it held the answers to all the mysteries of the universe. Her mind wandered, touching various thoughts for several moments before turning to a different subject.
A frown twisted the enkidukai’s face as she mentally listed every magical, mysterious, and hard-to-get-to place she knew. Of course, Jjairr could rule out several options, as she had been to many of them once or twice before. Narrowing down the list was thus, very easy. Eventually, Jjairr was left with two options – the Ruins and the Laanx Temple Tower.
The first item was the one she ended up starting with. Belting on her falchions and daggers, Jjairr made her way downstairs, pausing only to snag an apple from the kitchen.
It was a short jog to the guild house, and Jjairr rather enjoyed the freshness of the bright morning air. She opened the sturdy house doors and could hear murmured snatches of conversation drifting like smoke to dissipate in the air. Smiling, Jjairr stepped inside, easing the door shut behind her.
The young enkidukai climbed a short flight of stairs and found herself outside the Guild Founder’s office. Jjairr knocked on the door, grinning. Who better to ask about the Ruins than Ayshe, who had informed Jjairr multiple times of her fascination with the place?
“Enter,” a voice murmured. It was clear and knowledgeable, a voice that commanded respect. Jjairr did as bidden, opening the door and entering with a respectful bow to figure seated before her.
Ayshe Alchamet sat in a simple wooden desk, piled with various papers and forms. Smiling, Ayshe beckoned for Jjairr to seat herself, and, after pulling up a small wooden chair, the young enkidukai did so.
“Good morning, Jjairr,” Ayshe said. “To what do I owe this visit?”
“I wanted to ask you some things about the Ruins,” Jjairr answered.
At the mention of the Ruins, Ayshe’s ears perked up, and her smile broadened. “Ask away,” Ayshe said, clasping her hands and setting them on her desk.
“Well,” Jjairr began, “I was wondering if you knew of a master of the Crystal Way who possibly lives in the Ruins. Or even nearby?”
Ayshe’s smile faltered. “No. I know those Ruins like the back of my hand and the only things that live there are ulbernauts. Why do you wish to know?”
Jjairr blinked and smiled. “Just want to learn some new spells is all,” she said. Rising, she bowed once more to Ayshe and thanked her for her time. Turning, she almost tripped over her chair, but made it to the door in one piece and in a matter of moments was once more out into the open air of Hydlaa.
After Jjairr had gone, Ayshe stood, her brow creased in a thoughtful frown. “Strange,” she mused aloud, riffling through some of the papers on her desk. “I thought Jjairr studied the Red Way.” Sighing, she dismissed it from her mind. There were more pressing matters to attend to.
Chapter Five
As soon as her feet hit Hydlaa’s cobbled streets, Jjairr turned to gaze at the Laanx temple. She trusted Ayshe’s word that no Crystal Way Master inhabited the ruins, and so Jjairr turned to the only other probable location – the temple tower.
Scoffing, Jjairr wondered how she expected to reach the tower. As far as she knew, no one was allowed into the tower, and Jjairr doubted they’d make an exception just for her. And then in Jjairr’s mind blossomed a crazy thought.
She could climb the tower. No mess, no fuss, and if she was lucky, no one would ever know. After a brief moment’s consideration, the young enkidukai had her mind made up. Turning, she pointed her feet toward the Laanx temple, a determined glint sparkling in her eyes.
In a matter of moments, Jjairr had crossed the Plaza and was heading in a direct line toward the massive tower base. When she reached it, the young enkidukai chanced a swift glance around. Satisfied that no one was watching, she turned her attention back to the task at hand.
After a few minutes spent staring at the tower, during which she made some speedy calculations, Jjairr was ready. Inserting her nimble fingers into a gap between two of the many thousands of metal sheets covering the temple’s frame, she heaved herself upward, balanced, and then the process of figuring her next move began anew.
Jjairr didn’t know how long the climb lasted. All she remembered doing for countless periods of time was the same repetitive process of “pull yourself up, balance, rest, find a new hand and foot hold, repeat.”
“Nearly there now,” she said to herself for the nth time. “Nearly there.” Calling upon her last reserves of strength, Jjairr gritted her teeth in defiance of her paining body and heaved herself upward once more.
She had reached the top.
Throwing herself forward, Jjairr reveled in the feeling of solid ground beneath her. Trying to ignore the pain in her arms, she scooted to the edge of the tower and lay flat, gazing down at all of Hydlaa splayed before her like a miniature map. Glad of the rest, Jjairr sighed, letting the Azure Sun’s warmth wash over her.
After a quick swig of water, Jjairr deemed herself ready to continue. Stashing the water skin in her satchel, she heaved herself upward and examined the tower upon which she was standing.
It was decorated with a mosaic tile pattern, though what it was depicting either Jjairr could not tell or did not care. What she really focused on was the thick carved wooden trapdoor that nestled in the center of the tower floor, held in place by a pair of rusty clasps.
The design on the trapdoor looked familiar to Jjairr; a face wreathed by a double-headed serpent. No surprise there. That same symbol was found all across Hydlaa - especially in the Temple. She and Ralas had noticed this during one of their many explorations.
Jjairr unlatched both of the rusty clasps before grasping the carved wooden handle of the door and heaving upward. She let the door drop backward with a loud clang and gazed at the hole of unfathomable darkness that stretched deep into the core of the tower.
A series of ladder-like iron rungs welded to the side of the tunnel-like hole provided a route into the crushing black oblivion. No sound welled up from the darkness, but instead of dispelling the enkidukai’s fears, it only served to reinforce them. Still, she’d come this far. Jjairr chose to ignore her heart banging in her chest and pushed down the feelings of doom. She placed her foot on the first rung, feeling the cold shock of it through the pads of her feet. Then, she lowered herself completely into the tunnel, and began the slow descent toward the unknown.
Chapter Six
The climb seemed to go on for hours. Jjairr felt like she was trapped in a nightmare, where she was stuck, climbing forever downwards, with nothing but blackness beneath her feet and losing hope with each rung she descended.
Just when Jjairr began wondering if she had become victim to some horrific trap, her paws touched solid ground. Stepping away from the ladder, Jjairr’s sharp eyes detected a soft light, faintly illuminating the wall of a passage off to her right. Seeing no other options in the oppressive darkness, the tawny enkidukai carefully padded her way down the tunnel, keeping her paw close to the hilt of one of her falchions as a precaution.
As quiet as a shadow, Jjairr crept along the passage, hardly daring to breathe. The passage ended, opening out into a wide, circular room. The only three points of entry from what Jjairr could see consisted of the passage she had just come through and two thick carved oak doors set deep into the walls.
The floor of the room was cold, grey, uninviting stone, splashed with various violent-looking stains. The walls were pale, but you could hardly tell, shadowed as they were by the purple flames of enchanted sconces and daubed with crimson paint designs. Scrolls and various gruesome animal bits were piled randomly around the room; a system of organization proved non-existent.
In the center of the room stood a huge black cauldron, where a violent green concoction brewed. Lavender smoke belched forth from the cauldron, shrouding the room in a thick veil. Jjairr took an unsteady step towards it, her mind clouded by the fumes. A dark magic worked upon her, and she could not resist the enticing scents welling up from the cauldron’s belly.
Suddenly, a hand descended upon her shoulder, breaking Jjairr’s mind free of the spell. She was whirled around as if she was no more than a rag doll and found herself staring up at the most intimidating person she had ever seen.
His piercing crimson eyes held her gaze and radiated a frightening and overwhelming sense of hate and disdain that nearly knocked Jjairr backwards, as if she had been struck a physical blow. Wrinkles creased the creature’s pale blue skin, and his hand felt cold through the fabric of Jjairr’s tunic. He wore a long, shapeless black robe, embroidered with hundreds of intricate patterns.
And Jjairr knew that it was he she had come searching for.
Chapter Seven
Bowing low to the creature, Jjairr gulped, trying to force down her fear. After digging up every scrap of courage she possessed, Jjairr asked, “Are you a master of the Crystal Way?”
The creature answered her in a voice terrible enough to make the hardiest of creatures flinch. “Who are you?” he rasped, his fists clenched.
Jjairr licked her dry lips. “Jjairr Wolfhound of the Feline’s Lair,” she said.
He glared at her for some time. “Why have you come here?” he asked. He enunciated each word and spoke slowly, as if he hadn’t talked to anyone for a very long time.
Not daring to straighten from her bow, Jjairr answered, speaking to the mage’s feet. “I’ve come to ask my true name.”
A low grumbling cough issued from his mouth. It took Jjairr a moment to realize that he was laughing. After a while the noise subsided and the mage focused once more on Jjairr.
“This is heavy information,” he rasped. “I do not give it out to just anyone.”
“What do you need in return?” Jjairr asked, trying to keep the tremble out her voice.
The mage’s crimson eyes turned to the dagger at Jjairr’s belt. A wicked smile spread across his face. “I want that,” he said, pointing a gnarled hand toward the weapon.
Jjairr’s hand automatically came to rest on the dagger’s ivory hilt. “I can’t give you this,” she said. “I think it’s important that I keep it, but I’m not sure why.”
The mage’s face face twisted in a frown as he and Jjairr’s eyes met for a brief moment. A wordless message passed between them: his desire for the dagger, and Jjairr’s refusal to give it up.
His crafty mind already in motion, the mage tried a different approach.
“Have you anything else of value?” he growled, in what he obviously thought was a kind and gentle voice.
Jjairr thought for a minute before untying a pouch from her belt. Giving it a slight shake, she was rewarded by the soft clinking of many coins shifting against each other.
“Just money,” she said in answer to his inquiry. Her fear had subsided now that the Crystal Master proved able to be reasoned with.
The mage was silent for a moment. “Five thousand tria,” he said without warning.
Jjairr blinked. Five thousand tria? Surely such ‘heavy information’ was worth more than that? Shrugging it off, Jjairr dug the money from the pouch and pressed it into the mage’s hand, wincing as she did so. The cold feel of the hand caused her skin to crawl.
After returning the pouch to her belt, Jjairr raised her head to watch as the mage counted the money she had given him. Finding it satisfactory, he stowed the coins somewhere within his voluminous robes. Jjairr gave a small cough, causing him to return his attention to her.
“Well…?” she prompted. “Our deal?”
The low grumbling laugh returned, rising in pitch and volume until the air seemed to rebound with it.
“Your name?” he rasped, “You wish to know who you are?”
Jjairr’s heart began to sink. Her mouth turned dry. She could only nod.
“You are Foolish!” he cried, and swung his fist forward. It smashed into Jjairr’s chest with an inhuman strength, driving the wind out her lungs and knocking her backward. She collided with a bookcase and sank into blackness, the Crystal Way Master’s mocking laugh still ringing in her ears.
Chapter Eight
Jjairr awoke to find herself in a small, square stone cell. Letting off a low groan, she tried to sit up, but was driven horizontal once more by the pounding in her head. Contenting herself with observing her surroundings from the ground, the young enkidukai blinked and turned her head to look at each of the walls.
There was a single door set in the thick stone of the wall on Jjairr’s left, and a high barred window to her right. The two remaining walls were bare stone, as was the floor upon which Jjairr laid. Jjairr took a deep breath and struggled into a sitting position. Ignoring her aching head, which was screaming in protest at this sudden and unwanted movement, the enkidukai began a labored self-examination. She winced as she ran a paw over her back, which bore bruises and blood from its earlier introduction to the bookcase.
Further inspection revealed no other major injuries, save the ache in her skull. Jjairr noticed with a frown that her falchions were missing, but that made sense. What sort of a captor would let his prisoner keep her weapons?
Her captor! With a jolt, Jjairr remembered the horrid, sneering face of the Crystal Way Master. She gasped and her paw flew to her belt, only to grasp empty air.
The dagger was gone.
Jjairr leaned backward so her shoulders were resting on the cold stone wall. Tears pricked her eyes.
“The Crystal Way Master was right,” she said aloud. “I am foolish.”
She thought of Ralas and wondered if he had found out anything interesting about the Laanx temple. She thought of Ayshe and her friends in the guild. She thought of Darkmoon and everything he’d told her.
She glanced up at the window high overhead and noticed with a shock that it was raining.
“There were no rain clouds when I arrived at the temple,” she said to herself. “How long have I been here, I wonder?” She sighed again and closed as her head began to pound anew. The rhythmic thumping seemed to come from outside of her head, as well as inside of it.
A sudden splintering crack rent then air in two, and Jjairr opened her eyes. She realized then that the thudding noise was caused by someone, a strong someone, pounding on the thick wooden door as though determined to break it down. Jjairr scooted back against the far wall and pushed herself into a crouch. Another crack rent the air, followed by a loud, well-chosen exclamation. A few words were muttered in a low voice, words which sounded completely foreign to Jjairr. The door flew open, slamming into the cell wall with a force that reduced it to splinters.
And Darkmoon stood framed in the doorway.
Chapter Nine
Darkmoon entered the cell, chuckling. “Silly fenki,” he murmured, pulling the startled Jjairr to her feet. Jjairr winced, causing Darkmoon to pause. He glanced at her back.
“Ouch,” he said, frowning. “I suppose he did that to you?”
Jjairr nodded, her mind in turmoil with all the questions dancing on the tip of her tongue, waiting to be asked. Given the situation, however, she chose but one, which she felt most accurately conveyed her feelings.
“What the hell is going on?”
He didn’t chuckle this time. “Your Crystal Way Master is unconscious,” he said. “You’ve been here at the temple a grand total of three days. Right now you are above the main chamber, in an attic of sorts.”
Darkmoon frowned as he noticed Jjairr’s paw, clasped at her belt where the dagger had briefly rested.
“Looking for this?” he asked her, a secretive smile on his face.
Jjairr looked up and grinned. He held the dagger flat in his palm and offered it to her, smile widening as she took it. Her falchions, too, appeared from somewhere within the mysterious folds of his robe, and he murmured again as he passed Jjairr the blades, “You silly, silly fenki.”
The young enkidukai flashed him a questioning look as she belted on her falchions.
“Why did you go looking for the Crystal Master? Hasn’t anyone ever told you that patience is a virtue?”
“How else was I supposed to find my true name?” Jjairr asked him, bewildered.
“I would’ve told you eventually,” he answered. “I didn’t think you were crazy enough to go looking for a Crystal Way Master, or else I would have told you sooner…”
“Told me what sooner?” questioned Jjairr, with a hint of exasperation.
“Your name, of course.”
“You’re contradicting yourself, Darkmoon,” Jjairr said. “You said that only Crystal Way Masters would know my True Name.”
At this he gave another secretive smile.
“I said only Crystal Way Masters would know it right off. There are other ways of finding out one’s true name.” He chuckled, so soft Jjairr could barely hear him. “I gave you that dagger for a reason, you know.”
Brow furrowed in a mixture of frustration, thought, and bewilderment, Jjairr pulled the dagger from her belt and examined it while Darkmoon explained, “I usually keep a number of those handy, in case a curious person like you asks about true names. They take skill to make, and can only be forged on certain nights using certain materials and objects. It would take me too long to explain right now, but it will suffice for you to know, that is a special dagger.”
He paused a moment before continuing, “I would have told you sooner, but if I’d related all this information too quickly, I would’ve lost my mysterious flair.”
Raising her eyes to lock with his, she asked, “So… How do I…” She gestured toward the dagger.
“It requires your blood to reveal your name,” Darkmoon said.
Jjairr grimaced and gripped the dagger’s hilt tighter. “How contrived,” she said. Setting the point against her palm, the enkidukai scored a thin cut in her skin. Blood welled up from the shallow wound and coated the tip of the dagger, leaving Jjairr watching, wide-eyed, as the dagger began to glow.
When the light faded from the blade, small figures could be seen appearing just below the hilt. The delicate, curving letters shone as if drawn in liquid gold as they appeared and only began fading when the whole word had been formed. Jjairr bent close, her sharp eyes intent on the writing.
“Ciorstahg,” she said, rolling the word around on her tongue. She looked up at Darkmoon, who grinned back at her. “What does it mean?” she asked.
“That, I’m afraid, requires a master of the Dark Way to divine,” Darkmoon said. Jjairr shot him a look that somehow combined both incredulousness and a hint of rage. Darkmoon laughed at her expression. “I’m joking,” he said. “You’re good at exploring. Connecting the dots. With a bit of research I’m sure you can find it out for yourself.”
“And if I can’t?” Jjairr asked.
“I’ll be around,” the Ylian assured her. He started to chuckle, quietly at first, until his chuckles turned into full-throated laughter.
Jjairr couldn’t help it. She laughed too. All the grief of the past few days seemed to melt away, forced out by the sheer absurdity of the situation.
When their gaiety subsided, Darkmoon placed his hand on her arm. He muttered more foreign, elegant words and their surroundings began to fade until they were standing in utter blackness. Darkmoon flashed a quick grin, and before too long their surroundings took shape again. Jjairr recognized where they were immediately – standing in front of the gazebo in the Laanx Temple courtyard.
Jjairr glanced up at the sky and noticed the failing light.
“Oi…” she yawned. “I’ve got a lot to tell Ralas…”
Lowering her head to glance at Darkmoon, Jjairr began to laugh again. Darkmoon had disappeared.
“Thank you, Darkmoon,” Jjairr whispered to the sky, before turning and heading in the direction of Kada El’s Tavern, the dagger clutched tight in her hand.
What’s In a Name?
By Jjairr Wolfhound
Chapter One
Jjairr Wolfhound sat close to the fire in the Kada El’s Tavern, nursing her half full beer mug, lost in her thoughts. Her close friend, Ralas, had been discussing with her the mysteries of the Laanx Temple, the Dungeon, and the fabled Death Realm, when he had been called away by one of his other friends, leaving Jjairr to grapple the mysteries on her own. The young enkidukai’s brow furrowed in concentration, the heat of the fire causing beads of sweat to darken her ginger fur.
Staring at the hem of her tunic, Jjairr found her mind beginning to wander. She had just begun to set down her mug when a voice sounded in her ear.
“It’s a prison,” the voice murmured, causing Jjairr to jump and slop beer over herself. Jjairr cast her frightened blue eyes all around the dark room, but could see no one.
“Wh… What?” stammered the enkidukai, the fur on the back of her neck prickling.
“It’s a prison,” repeated the voice with a hint of humor. “The head in the Death Realm, of which you and your friend were speaking. It is a prison, containing the tortured souls of those considered unworthy to return to the world of the living.”
Jjairr continued to look about the room, peering into the shadowed corners, searching for the owner of the mysterious voice. “I don’t see you,” she said, glancing toward the ceiling’s thick wooden rafters. “Where are you?”
There was a small chuckle. “I am here… and yet, not here,” said the voice. Dark and mysterious, it continued, “Few people notice the snakes decorating the Laanx temple, like you were telling your friend about.” There was a thoughtful pause, and it added, “You would make a decent Explorer.”
Jjairr gulped. Something about this voice made her nervous. The fact that it appeared to have originated from no visible body didn’t help it much. She looked to her left, where the voice seemed to come from.
“I am Jjairr Wolfhound, of the Feline’s Lair. Who are you?”
Silence. Jjairr waited for an answer, ears straining. Finally, she heard the quiet whisper.
“Darkmoon.”
Jjairr heard a creak of footsteps as the voice’s invisible owner headed toward the door. Jjairr stood, still trying to catch a glimpse of this mysterious man.
“Wait!” the young enkidukai called. “There is more I would ask of you.”
The footsteps paused. “Take this dagger,” said the voice. “It is late. We will talk another time.”
Jjairr stared at the dagger that had appeared on the table in front of her, lodged point-first deep into the wood. She shook her head as if to clear it and asked, “How will I find y-“
The voice interrupted. “I will find you,” it assured her.
“But why do I need this dagger?” Jjairr asked, eyeing it skeptically.
“Trust me.”
Jjairr was quiet for a moment, then nodded. She reached forward, tugged the dagger from the table and examined it in the flickering firelight. It didn’t look particularly special, despite having materialized from nothing more than a whisper. The blade was short, plain; only the hilt, made of ivory and wrapped in golden wire, alluded to anything more than a common weapon. She tucked the dagger into her belt and returned her attention to the room, but absolute silence that followed confirmed her thoughts – she was alone in the tavern again.
It was an uncharacteristically quiet Jjairr that climbed the wooden steps of the tavern, heading to the third floor and into her rented room. After tossing her weapons onto the desk, the young enkidukai sank down onto the soft bed and closed her eyes. She sighed, head spinning with thoughts of the mysterious voice and the dagger lying next to her, and waited for sleep to come.
Chapter Two
Jjairr awoke to a loud crash of breaking pottery, followed by a curse from the tavern chef. Groggy, Jjairr raised herself up on one elbow. She shouted something rude to the chef before letting herself drop back down and rolling over to face the wall.
After a while the ginger enkidukai rose from her bed, knowing it was useless to even attempt to go back to sleep. The fierce rays of dawn light would see to it her eyes stayed open.
Casting a disgruntled glare at the beautiful morning sky, Jjairr belted on her dagger, but left her falchions still lying on the table. She hopped down the stairs, jumping the last five but still managing to land on her feet.
She began heading to the door, weaving her way between the tavern’s tables, and nodded to a pair of burly-looking male enkidukai out for an early morning drink as she passed. Jjairr paused at the door and sighed. She never had been a morning person.
As Jjairr began the short walk to the Plaza, the beautiful morning worked its magic on her, and by the time she reached her destination, her previous cranky mood had disappeared. She turned her feet in the direction of the library, smiling as she crossed the Plaza and vanished into East Hydlaa.
Jayose sat, lounged in a comfortable armchair, poring over a large leather-bound book. He looked up as Jjairr entered and nodded in greeting before turning back to the tome. Jjairr chuckled and turned to head up the sturdy staircase to the second level of the library. She weaved her way through the forest of bookcases until she came to the very back row.
Jjairr scanned the shelves, pulling down every book she could find that had “Laanx” on the cover. As Darkmoon had discovered yesterday, Jjairr and her friends were trying their hardest to solve the mysteries surrounding the Laanx Temple and Dungeon. And it required a lot of reading.
For the next few hours, Jjairr sat in her corner in the library. Whenever she found something interesting, she wrote it down, but other than that and turning the pages, she was still.
When she had completed the last book, Jjairr sighed and stood up. Yawning and stretching her tired muscles, Jjairr reviewed everything she had read. Most of the book pile had just been old wives’ tales and legends, and those books she hadn’t bothered reading. She had, however, found a few interesting points of information, and reminded herself to share them next time she saw Ralas.
Making her way back down the stairs, Jjairr nodded goodbye to Jayose and meandered back to the Plaza. Noticing the failing light, Jjairr sped up a bit and arrived at the tavern in a matter of minutes, her stomach growling. The fenki winced as she remembered that she hadn’t eaten breakfast, or even lunch.
Stepping into the tavern was like stepping into a puddle of icy water – quite a shock. No less than fifteen dwarves were sprawled around the room, each of them holding a very large mug of beer and roaring a rowdy drinking song at the top of their lungs. Jjairr clapped her hands to her ears and sprinted up the stairs, nearly running into the cook, who was just coming out of the kitchen, a full plate of steaming, delicious food balanced in his hands.
In the blink of an eye, Jjairr had snatched the plate and pressed some tria into the chef’s hand. In a desperate attempt to escape the noise, Jjairr leaped for the outside stairs that led up to the roof, the chef’s angry yells at her drowned out by the dwarves’ singing.
The noise difference was amazing as Jjairr sat down on the roof and began devouring her food. Cramming the chef’s famous garlic bread into her mouth, Jjairr began to wish she had gotten something to drink, but her rumbling stomach overruled her dry throat.
In what seemed like no time at all, Jjairr had finished eating. She pushed away the plate, now licked clean, and gave a contented sigh. Staring out over the peaceful city, Jjairr felt her eyelids beginning to droop, and had just stood up to go downstairs and face the chef’s wrath when the fur on the back of her neck began to prickle.
Chapter Three
Jjairr knew that feeling. She was being watched. Looking around, Jjairr attempted to spot the perpetrator, but could see no one. As that idea crossed her mind, Jjairr thought back to last night, and asked tentatively, “Darkmoon?”
The humor in his voice was evident as the reply came back, “Yes?”
Jjairr’s ears twitched as they strained to hear any form of movement to reveal where the mysterious voice came from.
“I still don’t see you,” she said. “Where are you?”
“Right beside you,” said the voice, sounding very close by.
Jjairr turned, gasped and stumbled a step backward. A middle-aged Ylian had appeared beside her, quite out of thin air. He grinned but stayed silent and waited for a few moments until Jjairr calmed down.
“How did you do that?” Jjairr questioned, wary of this strange Ylian.
“A spell called the Shroud of Darkness,” Darkmoon said. “Useful, isn’t it?”
Jjairr nodded. “Indeed.
They sat for a few moments, leaning against the railings on opposite sides of the roof. At length, Jjairr observed, “You have an interesting name. Darkmoon. Does it mean anything in particular?”
“It is more of a nickname,” said Darkmoon, shifting. “No one living knows my true name.”
Jjairr chuckled. “So many mysteries!” She watched him, her fingers toying with the hilt of the dagger.
“If someone knows your true name,” the Ylian said after a pause, “They have power over you. That’s why it is important to keep your true name secret from people. They might use it against you.”
Jjairr glanced over her shoulder at the staircase. “What happens if everyone knows your name?” she asked.
Darkmoon gave a small smile. “Jjairr Wolfhound is not your true name,” he assured her. “There is only one group of people who would know it right off, and I doubt your parents are included in that group.”
Flicking her tail, the curious enkidukai raised her eyes to lock with Darkmoon’s.
“Well? Who knows? Where can I find them?” she questioned.
“A master of the Crystal Way would know,” answered the stolid Ylian. “But they wouldn’t hand the information out willy-nilly. They would require something from you – a task, perhaps. Something dangerous, no doubt.”
Jjairr refused to be put off. “And are you a master of the Crystal Way?” she asked.
Sighing, he answered, “Ah, no. I dabble here and there, but nothing more.”
“Then do you know where I can find one?”
“Someplace highly magical, mysterious, or difficult to get to, no doubt,” Darkmoon said. “Masters of the Crystal Way never were known for their originality.”
Looking up, Jjairr noticed with a shock how late it was. Darkmoon seemed to be thinking along those same lines.
“I should be going,” he said. He stood up straight and looked toward Jjairr. “I will see you again sometime.”
Jjairr stood as well, and Ylian and Enkidukai shook hands.
“Thank you for talking with me again,” Jjairr said. “I’m sorry if I kept you from anything.”
Darkmoon shook his head. “Not at all, not at all.” Releasing Jjairr’s hand, he stepped toward the center of the roof. “Goodbye, Jjairr,” he said. He murmured a few words under his breath, and in a moment’s time, disappeared.
“Goodbye, Darkmoon,” Jjairr whispered to the night, before heading back inside Kada El’s.
Chapter Four
The following morning found Jjairr sitting on the edge of her bed, staring at the carved wooden desk beside her, as if it held the answers to all the mysteries of the universe. Her mind wandered, touching various thoughts for several moments before turning to a different subject.
A frown twisted the enkidukai’s face as she mentally listed every magical, mysterious, and hard-to-get-to place she knew. Of course, Jjairr could rule out several options, as she had been to many of them once or twice before. Narrowing down the list was thus, very easy. Eventually, Jjairr was left with two options – the Ruins and the Laanx Temple Tower.
The first item was the one she ended up starting with. Belting on her falchions and daggers, Jjairr made her way downstairs, pausing only to snag an apple from the kitchen.
It was a short jog to the guild house, and Jjairr rather enjoyed the freshness of the bright morning air. She opened the sturdy house doors and could hear murmured snatches of conversation drifting like smoke to dissipate in the air. Smiling, Jjairr stepped inside, easing the door shut behind her.
The young enkidukai climbed a short flight of stairs and found herself outside the Guild Founder’s office. Jjairr knocked on the door, grinning. Who better to ask about the Ruins than Ayshe, who had informed Jjairr multiple times of her fascination with the place?
“Enter,” a voice murmured. It was clear and knowledgeable, a voice that commanded respect. Jjairr did as bidden, opening the door and entering with a respectful bow to figure seated before her.
Ayshe Alchamet sat in a simple wooden desk, piled with various papers and forms. Smiling, Ayshe beckoned for Jjairr to seat herself, and, after pulling up a small wooden chair, the young enkidukai did so.
“Good morning, Jjairr,” Ayshe said. “To what do I owe this visit?”
“I wanted to ask you some things about the Ruins,” Jjairr answered.
At the mention of the Ruins, Ayshe’s ears perked up, and her smile broadened. “Ask away,” Ayshe said, clasping her hands and setting them on her desk.
“Well,” Jjairr began, “I was wondering if you knew of a master of the Crystal Way who possibly lives in the Ruins. Or even nearby?”
Ayshe’s smile faltered. “No. I know those Ruins like the back of my hand and the only things that live there are ulbernauts. Why do you wish to know?”
Jjairr blinked and smiled. “Just want to learn some new spells is all,” she said. Rising, she bowed once more to Ayshe and thanked her for her time. Turning, she almost tripped over her chair, but made it to the door in one piece and in a matter of moments was once more out into the open air of Hydlaa.
After Jjairr had gone, Ayshe stood, her brow creased in a thoughtful frown. “Strange,” she mused aloud, riffling through some of the papers on her desk. “I thought Jjairr studied the Red Way.” Sighing, she dismissed it from her mind. There were more pressing matters to attend to.
Chapter Five
As soon as her feet hit Hydlaa’s cobbled streets, Jjairr turned to gaze at the Laanx temple. She trusted Ayshe’s word that no Crystal Way Master inhabited the ruins, and so Jjairr turned to the only other probable location – the temple tower.
Scoffing, Jjairr wondered how she expected to reach the tower. As far as she knew, no one was allowed into the tower, and Jjairr doubted they’d make an exception just for her. And then in Jjairr’s mind blossomed a crazy thought.
She could climb the tower. No mess, no fuss, and if she was lucky, no one would ever know. After a brief moment’s consideration, the young enkidukai had her mind made up. Turning, she pointed her feet toward the Laanx temple, a determined glint sparkling in her eyes.
In a matter of moments, Jjairr had crossed the Plaza and was heading in a direct line toward the massive tower base. When she reached it, the young enkidukai chanced a swift glance around. Satisfied that no one was watching, she turned her attention back to the task at hand.
After a few minutes spent staring at the tower, during which she made some speedy calculations, Jjairr was ready. Inserting her nimble fingers into a gap between two of the many thousands of metal sheets covering the temple’s frame, she heaved herself upward, balanced, and then the process of figuring her next move began anew.
Jjairr didn’t know how long the climb lasted. All she remembered doing for countless periods of time was the same repetitive process of “pull yourself up, balance, rest, find a new hand and foot hold, repeat.”
“Nearly there now,” she said to herself for the nth time. “Nearly there.” Calling upon her last reserves of strength, Jjairr gritted her teeth in defiance of her paining body and heaved herself upward once more.
She had reached the top.
Throwing herself forward, Jjairr reveled in the feeling of solid ground beneath her. Trying to ignore the pain in her arms, she scooted to the edge of the tower and lay flat, gazing down at all of Hydlaa splayed before her like a miniature map. Glad of the rest, Jjairr sighed, letting the Azure Sun’s warmth wash over her.
After a quick swig of water, Jjairr deemed herself ready to continue. Stashing the water skin in her satchel, she heaved herself upward and examined the tower upon which she was standing.
It was decorated with a mosaic tile pattern, though what it was depicting either Jjairr could not tell or did not care. What she really focused on was the thick carved wooden trapdoor that nestled in the center of the tower floor, held in place by a pair of rusty clasps.
The design on the trapdoor looked familiar to Jjairr; a face wreathed by a double-headed serpent. No surprise there. That same symbol was found all across Hydlaa - especially in the Temple. She and Ralas had noticed this during one of their many explorations.
Jjairr unlatched both of the rusty clasps before grasping the carved wooden handle of the door and heaving upward. She let the door drop backward with a loud clang and gazed at the hole of unfathomable darkness that stretched deep into the core of the tower.
A series of ladder-like iron rungs welded to the side of the tunnel-like hole provided a route into the crushing black oblivion. No sound welled up from the darkness, but instead of dispelling the enkidukai’s fears, it only served to reinforce them. Still, she’d come this far. Jjairr chose to ignore her heart banging in her chest and pushed down the feelings of doom. She placed her foot on the first rung, feeling the cold shock of it through the pads of her feet. Then, she lowered herself completely into the tunnel, and began the slow descent toward the unknown.
Chapter Six
The climb seemed to go on for hours. Jjairr felt like she was trapped in a nightmare, where she was stuck, climbing forever downwards, with nothing but blackness beneath her feet and losing hope with each rung she descended.
Just when Jjairr began wondering if she had become victim to some horrific trap, her paws touched solid ground. Stepping away from the ladder, Jjairr’s sharp eyes detected a soft light, faintly illuminating the wall of a passage off to her right. Seeing no other options in the oppressive darkness, the tawny enkidukai carefully padded her way down the tunnel, keeping her paw close to the hilt of one of her falchions as a precaution.
As quiet as a shadow, Jjairr crept along the passage, hardly daring to breathe. The passage ended, opening out into a wide, circular room. The only three points of entry from what Jjairr could see consisted of the passage she had just come through and two thick carved oak doors set deep into the walls.
The floor of the room was cold, grey, uninviting stone, splashed with various violent-looking stains. The walls were pale, but you could hardly tell, shadowed as they were by the purple flames of enchanted sconces and daubed with crimson paint designs. Scrolls and various gruesome animal bits were piled randomly around the room; a system of organization proved non-existent.
In the center of the room stood a huge black cauldron, where a violent green concoction brewed. Lavender smoke belched forth from the cauldron, shrouding the room in a thick veil. Jjairr took an unsteady step towards it, her mind clouded by the fumes. A dark magic worked upon her, and she could not resist the enticing scents welling up from the cauldron’s belly.
Suddenly, a hand descended upon her shoulder, breaking Jjairr’s mind free of the spell. She was whirled around as if she was no more than a rag doll and found herself staring up at the most intimidating person she had ever seen.
His piercing crimson eyes held her gaze and radiated a frightening and overwhelming sense of hate and disdain that nearly knocked Jjairr backwards, as if she had been struck a physical blow. Wrinkles creased the creature’s pale blue skin, and his hand felt cold through the fabric of Jjairr’s tunic. He wore a long, shapeless black robe, embroidered with hundreds of intricate patterns.
And Jjairr knew that it was he she had come searching for.
Chapter Seven
Bowing low to the creature, Jjairr gulped, trying to force down her fear. After digging up every scrap of courage she possessed, Jjairr asked, “Are you a master of the Crystal Way?”
The creature answered her in a voice terrible enough to make the hardiest of creatures flinch. “Who are you?” he rasped, his fists clenched.
Jjairr licked her dry lips. “Jjairr Wolfhound of the Feline’s Lair,” she said.
He glared at her for some time. “Why have you come here?” he asked. He enunciated each word and spoke slowly, as if he hadn’t talked to anyone for a very long time.
Not daring to straighten from her bow, Jjairr answered, speaking to the mage’s feet. “I’ve come to ask my true name.”
A low grumbling cough issued from his mouth. It took Jjairr a moment to realize that he was laughing. After a while the noise subsided and the mage focused once more on Jjairr.
“This is heavy information,” he rasped. “I do not give it out to just anyone.”
“What do you need in return?” Jjairr asked, trying to keep the tremble out her voice.
The mage’s crimson eyes turned to the dagger at Jjairr’s belt. A wicked smile spread across his face. “I want that,” he said, pointing a gnarled hand toward the weapon.
Jjairr’s hand automatically came to rest on the dagger’s ivory hilt. “I can’t give you this,” she said. “I think it’s important that I keep it, but I’m not sure why.”
The mage’s face face twisted in a frown as he and Jjairr’s eyes met for a brief moment. A wordless message passed between them: his desire for the dagger, and Jjairr’s refusal to give it up.
His crafty mind already in motion, the mage tried a different approach.
“Have you anything else of value?” he growled, in what he obviously thought was a kind and gentle voice.
Jjairr thought for a minute before untying a pouch from her belt. Giving it a slight shake, she was rewarded by the soft clinking of many coins shifting against each other.
“Just money,” she said in answer to his inquiry. Her fear had subsided now that the Crystal Master proved able to be reasoned with.
The mage was silent for a moment. “Five thousand tria,” he said without warning.
Jjairr blinked. Five thousand tria? Surely such ‘heavy information’ was worth more than that? Shrugging it off, Jjairr dug the money from the pouch and pressed it into the mage’s hand, wincing as she did so. The cold feel of the hand caused her skin to crawl.
After returning the pouch to her belt, Jjairr raised her head to watch as the mage counted the money she had given him. Finding it satisfactory, he stowed the coins somewhere within his voluminous robes. Jjairr gave a small cough, causing him to return his attention to her.
“Well…?” she prompted. “Our deal?”
The low grumbling laugh returned, rising in pitch and volume until the air seemed to rebound with it.
“Your name?” he rasped, “You wish to know who you are?”
Jjairr’s heart began to sink. Her mouth turned dry. She could only nod.
“You are Foolish!” he cried, and swung his fist forward. It smashed into Jjairr’s chest with an inhuman strength, driving the wind out her lungs and knocking her backward. She collided with a bookcase and sank into blackness, the Crystal Way Master’s mocking laugh still ringing in her ears.
Chapter Eight
Jjairr awoke to find herself in a small, square stone cell. Letting off a low groan, she tried to sit up, but was driven horizontal once more by the pounding in her head. Contenting herself with observing her surroundings from the ground, the young enkidukai blinked and turned her head to look at each of the walls.
There was a single door set in the thick stone of the wall on Jjairr’s left, and a high barred window to her right. The two remaining walls were bare stone, as was the floor upon which Jjairr laid. Jjairr took a deep breath and struggled into a sitting position. Ignoring her aching head, which was screaming in protest at this sudden and unwanted movement, the enkidukai began a labored self-examination. She winced as she ran a paw over her back, which bore bruises and blood from its earlier introduction to the bookcase.
Further inspection revealed no other major injuries, save the ache in her skull. Jjairr noticed with a frown that her falchions were missing, but that made sense. What sort of a captor would let his prisoner keep her weapons?
Her captor! With a jolt, Jjairr remembered the horrid, sneering face of the Crystal Way Master. She gasped and her paw flew to her belt, only to grasp empty air.
The dagger was gone.
Jjairr leaned backward so her shoulders were resting on the cold stone wall. Tears pricked her eyes.
“The Crystal Way Master was right,” she said aloud. “I am foolish.”
She thought of Ralas and wondered if he had found out anything interesting about the Laanx temple. She thought of Ayshe and her friends in the guild. She thought of Darkmoon and everything he’d told her.
She glanced up at the window high overhead and noticed with a shock that it was raining.
“There were no rain clouds when I arrived at the temple,” she said to herself. “How long have I been here, I wonder?” She sighed again and closed as her head began to pound anew. The rhythmic thumping seemed to come from outside of her head, as well as inside of it.
A sudden splintering crack rent then air in two, and Jjairr opened her eyes. She realized then that the thudding noise was caused by someone, a strong someone, pounding on the thick wooden door as though determined to break it down. Jjairr scooted back against the far wall and pushed herself into a crouch. Another crack rent the air, followed by a loud, well-chosen exclamation. A few words were muttered in a low voice, words which sounded completely foreign to Jjairr. The door flew open, slamming into the cell wall with a force that reduced it to splinters.
And Darkmoon stood framed in the doorway.
Chapter Nine
Darkmoon entered the cell, chuckling. “Silly fenki,” he murmured, pulling the startled Jjairr to her feet. Jjairr winced, causing Darkmoon to pause. He glanced at her back.
“Ouch,” he said, frowning. “I suppose he did that to you?”
Jjairr nodded, her mind in turmoil with all the questions dancing on the tip of her tongue, waiting to be asked. Given the situation, however, she chose but one, which she felt most accurately conveyed her feelings.
“What the hell is going on?”
He didn’t chuckle this time. “Your Crystal Way Master is unconscious,” he said. “You’ve been here at the temple a grand total of three days. Right now you are above the main chamber, in an attic of sorts.”
Darkmoon frowned as he noticed Jjairr’s paw, clasped at her belt where the dagger had briefly rested.
“Looking for this?” he asked her, a secretive smile on his face.
Jjairr looked up and grinned. He held the dagger flat in his palm and offered it to her, smile widening as she took it. Her falchions, too, appeared from somewhere within the mysterious folds of his robe, and he murmured again as he passed Jjairr the blades, “You silly, silly fenki.”
The young enkidukai flashed him a questioning look as she belted on her falchions.
“Why did you go looking for the Crystal Master? Hasn’t anyone ever told you that patience is a virtue?”
“How else was I supposed to find my true name?” Jjairr asked him, bewildered.
“I would’ve told you eventually,” he answered. “I didn’t think you were crazy enough to go looking for a Crystal Way Master, or else I would have told you sooner…”
“Told me what sooner?” questioned Jjairr, with a hint of exasperation.
“Your name, of course.”
“You’re contradicting yourself, Darkmoon,” Jjairr said. “You said that only Crystal Way Masters would know my True Name.”
At this he gave another secretive smile.
“I said only Crystal Way Masters would know it right off. There are other ways of finding out one’s true name.” He chuckled, so soft Jjairr could barely hear him. “I gave you that dagger for a reason, you know.”
Brow furrowed in a mixture of frustration, thought, and bewilderment, Jjairr pulled the dagger from her belt and examined it while Darkmoon explained, “I usually keep a number of those handy, in case a curious person like you asks about true names. They take skill to make, and can only be forged on certain nights using certain materials and objects. It would take me too long to explain right now, but it will suffice for you to know, that is a special dagger.”
He paused a moment before continuing, “I would have told you sooner, but if I’d related all this information too quickly, I would’ve lost my mysterious flair.”
Raising her eyes to lock with his, she asked, “So… How do I…” She gestured toward the dagger.
“It requires your blood to reveal your name,” Darkmoon said.
Jjairr grimaced and gripped the dagger’s hilt tighter. “How contrived,” she said. Setting the point against her palm, the enkidukai scored a thin cut in her skin. Blood welled up from the shallow wound and coated the tip of the dagger, leaving Jjairr watching, wide-eyed, as the dagger began to glow.
When the light faded from the blade, small figures could be seen appearing just below the hilt. The delicate, curving letters shone as if drawn in liquid gold as they appeared and only began fading when the whole word had been formed. Jjairr bent close, her sharp eyes intent on the writing.
“Ciorstahg,” she said, rolling the word around on her tongue. She looked up at Darkmoon, who grinned back at her. “What does it mean?” she asked.
“That, I’m afraid, requires a master of the Dark Way to divine,” Darkmoon said. Jjairr shot him a look that somehow combined both incredulousness and a hint of rage. Darkmoon laughed at her expression. “I’m joking,” he said. “You’re good at exploring. Connecting the dots. With a bit of research I’m sure you can find it out for yourself.”
“And if I can’t?” Jjairr asked.
“I’ll be around,” the Ylian assured her. He started to chuckle, quietly at first, until his chuckles turned into full-throated laughter.
Jjairr couldn’t help it. She laughed too. All the grief of the past few days seemed to melt away, forced out by the sheer absurdity of the situation.
When their gaiety subsided, Darkmoon placed his hand on her arm. He muttered more foreign, elegant words and their surroundings began to fade until they were standing in utter blackness. Darkmoon flashed a quick grin, and before too long their surroundings took shape again. Jjairr recognized where they were immediately – standing in front of the gazebo in the Laanx Temple courtyard.
Jjairr glanced up at the sky and noticed the failing light.
“Oi…” she yawned. “I’ve got a lot to tell Ralas…”
Lowering her head to glance at Darkmoon, Jjairr began to laugh again. Darkmoon had disappeared.
“Thank you, Darkmoon,” Jjairr whispered to the sky, before turning and heading in the direction of Kada El’s Tavern, the dagger clutched tight in her hand.