Chereads / Mintara: World of Tooth and Claw Book Two: A Marten's Heritance / Chapter 11 - Chapter Eleven: The Ermine and the Marmot

Chapter 11 - Chapter Eleven: The Ermine and the Marmot

After having endured such a very long day of tending to the needs of her unconscious brother and to the injured Severus, who was now resting with partial comfort in the other bed; Valorisa, Colin noted, had finally collapsed from exhaustion in a nearby chair. The marten, with her blonde braid draped loosely over her left shoulder and who, with her figure that was clothed in khaki jodhpurs, a red shirt and a black vest, had finally found an apparent moment to get some sleep as the first day of conflict was coming to a close. A thing which was fine, Colin thought. As he had no issue with covering her shift while she recovered from the events of this first bloody and brutal day.

Colin sighed and drew forth a compass that he had hanging around his neck. Something he had taken from the college museum, after having a vision earlier which involved a compass, A garden filled with what looked like statues made of black obsidian, and of a figure who emerged from one of these statues which bore a striking resemblance to Black Dahlia Frostwood. An ermine from the early portion of Mintara's history, who was not exactly what you'd call a woman that the sensible people of this continent would wish to see return. History said she was ruthless. Arrogant. Power-hungry. That her taste for darkness and ambition knew no limits...Ugh. Colin shivered, at the thought that someone could actually be insane enough, that they would want to bring her back into this world of their own free will. He tried to ponder who of all people, might be crazy enough to attempt such a thing. Might it even be someone he knew, he wondered, when he noted the needle on the compass was beginning to twitch. First, in an easterly direction. Then westerly. It dipped all the way back around toward the southeast point before spinning back north...Colin followed this erratic spinning of the iron needle as it returned back to its northern point of origin. He paused, as he faced the doorway. Were those footsteps he heard approaching from outside? The prairie dog listened carefully. Yes. Yes, those were most definitely the sounds of footsteps which he heard approaching the infirmary. Calm, yet confident footsteps, which click and clacked against the cold stone of the outer hall. Footfalls, which grew ever louder as their owner drew nearer; Colin, readied himself, as he anticipated the arrival of whoever was going to appear around the corner of the infirmary's cobbled, stone archway.

Colin did not have to wait long, as the footsteps stopped, just before the figure of Dylan emerged from around the corner of the stone doorway. The ermine who with that svelte, seductive figure of hers, did thus carry herself into the room with a fashion that made her look less like she was simply walking and more like she was gliding on air. Every step that she took, was then not only graceful, but also filled with ambitious intention. Dylan, as confident as ever, stopped when she was only a few feet from Colin.

Colin responded to this bold action, by simply growling at the ermine. "Dylan..." he snarled. "Ah'd heard rumors yeh' were back. That yeh' were the one responsible for all this chaos and all this purposeless destruction goin' on in Donovan's fair city. Triune help me, I admit, up until now Ah' was scarce wont to believe such a fact, until ah' saw it fer' mah' self. Ah' thought maybe just maybe, it was all a hysterical misidentification, and that someone other that yerself, was plaguin' us with these antics. Seems...ah' was wrong, doesn't it?"

"Mmm..." Dylan flicked a claw under Colin's chin. "Yes," she muttered quietly. "Seems so. Sorry..." she whispered as she began to circle him like a predator would its prey, "If I disappointed you. I can tell from your tone, and from the way you tense up in my presence, that you likely find it most reprehensible to see me again. Apologies, if I make you that uncomfortable, dear Colin. I will admit, yours is not the most pleasant of company for me to be reunited with either. I mean, considering how five years ago you and your companions did leave me in the very uncomfortable position of having to explain to Gutgore how the Genesis Gauntlets got switched with a pair of gardening gloves...heh. I mean, I admit, that was very clever on your part Colin. Clever indeed. Still, you must admit, it left me in quite a conundrum. I mean, what with Gutgore's famed intolerance for failure and his short temper, and all."

Colin widened his eyes. "Wait..." he snarled. "Are yeh' sayin' yeh'..."

"Offed him?" Dylan slightly raised the corners of her mouth as she quietly chuckled. "I mean," she murmured as she stopped circling Colin and turned once more to face him. "I suppose there's really no point denying it, is there? Yes. After hearing from Hilde, his last consort and aide, how he really had a habit of never fulfilling promises and how he had a tendency to only favor his consorts, until the day they failed him. A day which I knew had arrived for me, the moment he discovered the Genesis Gauntlets were in fact not the gauntlets at all, but rather a simple pair of overused gardening gloves glamoured to look like them. Killing Gutgore...was what one might call an off-the-cuff contingency plan. There was no days upon days of thinking. No long-term premeditation. I was in a precarious situation Colin, my dear. One, where I knew the score. That the moment Gutgore stopped raging and started looking for someone to blame, it would be my head on the chopping block for not having been observant enough, to have seen through the illusion. One I will admit, was masterfully done on your part, Colin. Even if it did put me in that situation, I would still be a fool not to give credit where credit is due."

Colin smirked a little himself. "Thank yeh'," he replied quietly barely amused by the ramblings of the ermine. "But can we get back tah' the situation at hand? Fer' example, the fact that yeh' still have not explained what it is yer' doin' here or what yeh' want of me, or the poor innocents of this parish!?"

Dylan widened the coy smirk which was plastered on her face. "Mmm..." she quietly whispered into the prairie dog's ear. "Promise...not...to tell?" she teased as the prairie dog batted her away. The ermine seeming to take great pleasure in the irritation shown by the prairie dog.

"Oh, okay, okay." she finally caved. "I admit. The original reason I came here was for gauntlets. I mean...Yes, the Talons gave me great destructive power. The power to tear down even the strongest of walls. To blast past even the most reinforced of city guards, as you've seen outside. All of that is a lovely and incredible power to wield! It has inspired many already, to follow me as I pursue my aspiration of rebuilding the once great empire known as Musteladonia. An empire where the weasel races were not only respected. They were revered by the lesser races, whom Donovan, fool that he is, thinks should be treated as equals under the banner of his 'New Mintara Compact,' beginning with the shining beacon that is his beloved Donneystone Parish."

Colin chuckled dryly. "Ah' get it," he muttered. "And yeh' think, that's all it'll take tah' end the dream, eh? Attack the beacon city. Show the rest of Mintara, not even a territory which represents and embraces multi-cultural unity, is strong enough tah' stand against the power of the ancient weasel age relics. Is that it?"

Dylan lowered her eyelids halfway and chuckled soundly. "Well in a nutshell, it was."

"Was?"

Dylan cast Colin a menacing grin. "Let's just say I'm having some help with this." she stated, as Colin gasped, surprised to suddenly feel what felt like tentacles wrap around his neck and throat. He shifted his eyes backward to see a fox-like figure behind him.

"W-Wha..." he gasped, as Dylan chuckled once more. "Colin," she stated in smooth, composed voice. "Meet Lunastra Summersbane. She's been...well...what you might call my, tactical advisor, on these matters."

"Lunastra...!? The Omnosdai!?" Colin shouted in alarm, before gasping as Luna tightened the coil around his throat. "D-Dylan...d-don't trust her!" he rasped. "The archive chronicles datin' tah' the age of Musteladonia...they make a point tah' note that she is the...mff!"

Colin was muzzled as daemun fox slapped another tentacle across his mouth. "Loudmouth," Luna snapped venomously, before she looked back up to Dylan with an inquisitive expression. "Well?" she asked the ermine. "What did you get out of him? Does he know where the compass is?"

Dylan shook her head.

"I was just getting to that, when you so abruptly made your appearance," she replied. "Though if you like, I give you full liberty to search him now that you're here."

"Oh?"

The fox daemun produced a malicious smirk, as she grabbed Colin by his ankles with the cyan tentacles that protruded from her waist, turned him upside down, and began shaking him relentlessly. A number of odds and ends in turn, thus fell out of his pockets as he screamed for Lunastra to release her hold on him.

"Let...me...go!" he snapped to the daemun. "Ah' swear, if yeh' don't release me this instant, ah'll give yeh' a thrashin' the likes of which yeh have never seen! I swear..." Colin words suddenly trailed off as he widened his eyes at the sight of the compass, which came tumbling forth from his pocket amongst many other objects. The ancient device was then caught with the greatest of care by Dylan, just before it would have hit the stone floor alongside the other objects.

"Mmm..." Dylan mused as she examined the ancient navigational device. "So, keeping secrets are we, Colin? Tsk, tsk. Naughty, naughty. Here I thought better of you, what with you being part of an order who embraces truth, and transparency, and cooperation, as part of their core tenets. Hmm. I suppose then, there is a reason you would break from the traditions of your order, to hide this lovely little trinket from me? Hmm? Any reason at all?"

Dylan leaned in expectantly, as the prairie dog growled. "I..." he snarled as he looked back at Lunastra who was still holding him. "I hid it...because I have seen a vision of what will happen if you use it. The individual you seek to release...you don't know what kind of power you will be releasing, if you go through with this," Colin warned. "Dhalia Frostwood..."

"Was imprisoned unfairly because of her great vision. A vision that the great rulers of Musteladonia, particularly those who belonged to the Dashraft clan, were jealous of. I know. Lunastra told me."

"W-What!?"

Colin turned and shot a frustrated look to the smug daemun. "N-No," Colin snarled. "Dylan, 'tis not how it is at all... Ah' don't know exactly what Luna told you, but Dhalia is not the hero tah' this story, that yeh' think she is! The woman is daft! She's loony! She made the original contract with...mff!"

Colin was cut off, as Luna slapped a paw across his mouth.

"Don't listen to him, sweetie," she said with that typical smile of hers. "He's just trying to get in your head. Just like he played head games with Gutgore when he switched the gauntlet. And just like when Donovan pretended he was your friend, when really it was just to have a way to get information out of you and keep an eye on you. That's not me. I'm your friend. You know this, right?"

Dylan snarled. "Yeah..." she snapped. "I know. You're the only one who I can rely on, Luna. Who hasn't betrayed me for personal gain."

"Heh. Smart girl. Then...what do we do with this one?"

Dylan lowered her eyelids halfway. "Dispose of him," she replied calmly, as she turned to leave with the compass in hand. "And make it fast. We have business to attend to."

"Of course."

Lunastra smirked, as Dylan left the room. Dylan who was already halfway up the hall, heard what sounded like a "SLOSH," that was immediately followed by a pained moan produced by the prairie dog cleric.

The deed was done.

"Now...to figure out this compass," Dylan muttered as Luna returned and again bonded with the ermine's shadow. "Luna," she whispered. "Do you have any idea, how this is supposed to work?"

"Not much," Luna replied. "I've done endless millenia of study on it, ever since Dahlia was imprisoned. It's become a passion project of mine, you could say. The thing is...most who did research on it, were bards or poet-scholars. And so there's a lot of flowery verse, that one has to cut through, to actually understand the true purpose and use of the device."

"Oh?"

Lunastra replied with a telepathic nod. "To get to the root of it my dear," she stated. "The verse which appears in most poet-scholars studies, or the variation of the verse which has been used and studied the most. Is one taken from the journals of Derik Dashes-for-the-Raft. The founding patriarch of the Dashraft clan. He writes: Thus, shall this compass, ever guide to the garden with sculptures of blackest stone. A needle of iron pointing down a river of blood, only with such device can one be guided, and only with such device alone.

"How macabre."

"At first glance my dear, yes. Until you realize what he's trying to say. A river of blood, is referring to blood in the genealogical sense. Like a river with many tributaries, a family tree, or family bloodline is continually branching out. He is in a word, stating that only the bloodline of a Dashraft can use the compass."

"And you're just telling me this now?" Dylan widened her eyes. "If only the bloodline of a Dashraft can use it...then why have me search for it, what's the point?"

Lunastra smirked. "The point is..." she stated. "That you technically are of the Dashraft bloodline. More or less."

"Huh?"

"What I'm saying is...Darik Dashes-for-the-Raft had two daughters by Dahlia. Baretta and Stiletto Frostwood. Your Frostwood parentage is carried on by the bloodlines of one of those two sisters. But at the same time..."

"It also makes me a Dashraft." Dylan smiled with a smirk. "The question is, do I have enough Dashraft blood in me to activate the compass?"

Lunastra again gave a telepathic shrug. "I mean, that question is already somewhat answered," she replied. "The needle spun towards you, when you approached the infirmary, didn't it? The compass does not recognize morals of dark and light. Good or evil. It does not ask for intentions or ambitions. It only asks for one thing in the enchantment."

"Are you of Dashraft blood." Dylan stated with a chuckle. "Okay. So what. I just hold this thing and..."

Dylan widened her eyes, as the compass began to spin in all directions, First north, then south, then west, before finally settling on a Northeast point. The needle quivering as it did so, like it absolutely had to head in that direction.

"Oh, that's cool..." Dylan murmured as she headed off in the indicated direction. "That...is very, very cool..."