• Graded • To Trouble Their Fathers (Part IV)

[Kasoria]

75th Trial, Ashan, Arc 718
Westguard, West of Etzos
18th break

Continued from here



"You found out by listening, didn't you?"

"Found what out?"

Kasoria made a face that suggested he wasn't impressed by the efforts of a child, attempting to bamboozle him. Martyn scratched the back of his neck and looked away, but eventually he sighed and faced his father again. The boy learned quickly.

"... yes."

"Top of the stairs, hmm?" Now Martyn gave him a look like he was some sort of wizard, and Kasoria couldn't help but chuckle. "Last night, when me and your mother were talking. As I left, I heard your door close." He leaned forward, voice dropping a conspiratorial octave. "Next time, just freeze where you are. Less chance of someone spotting you, if you're already hidden."

"I... ok-"

"Not that you'll be eavesdropping anymore, hmm?"

"Oh... no, no, of course not... father."

The word... it was like the breeze that followed it. A breath of air given sound, but it was finally real. It buzzed against his ear and wormed its way into his mind as they sat under the tree. Looking down at Westguard, readying themselves for the walk back home. Now the suggestion of night had become a promise. Kasoria saw tiny figures, bustling or ambling, walking or trotting or cantering, animal and man alike and he cared for none of them. He could have stayed on that hill for an age, with his son, in that tiny space and time where they could be just that to each other.

But it could not last. Night was falling.

"I'll make you a deal... son," he said, and tried not to stumble over the word. Nor the fact he'd never said it out loud before. "You stay on your best behavior, you stay out of trouble..."

His mouth was suddenly so dry. He'd been mulling over the problem for long since before they'd got to the hill that trial. The boy wanted to be a soldier now, and a bard a season or so before... who was to say what his fancy would turn to in another season, or arc? But who the boy would become was beginning to harden, and Kasoria could see that. He was an arc or two away from that turbulent, terrible time when all the strength and drive and ambitions of manhood would be thrust into him at once. Not just making him taller and stronger, but more reckless, more ill-tempered.

Without a direction for that, he feared what would happen to his son. So... yes... he made his decision.

"... we'll see about you becoming a soldier."

For a few moments, he assumed the boy had run off. There was nothing but sharp silence and when he looked over, well, he wasn't gone, but he might as well have been. Young, soft features were hung slack in shock. Rufus had perked up and was looking quizzically at his human, wondering if something had gone dark in his primitive primate mind. Finally there was a rush of air into small lungs and Kasoria started talking a moment too late-

"Now, that's only-"

"Really? You mean it?!"

"Yes, I do, but list-"

"I promise I'll be god I really will I won't get in any trouble-"

"Marty?!"

The boy's jaw snapped shut. Rufus' ears dropped. Kasoria cleared his throat and gestured for the boy to sit. He scampered over and sat next to Kasoria, looking up at him in that unnerving, trusting way children always do at their parents. He'd taken to the idea faster that Kasoria had to being a father, or at least one admitted in words.

"Now... you're going to be eleven arcs old this year. So that's still five arcs to go before you can go to cadet soon. But!" He threw up a finger before the inevitable complaining could begin. "If you show you're of good standing, and-"

"What's that mean?"

"Means if you stay out of trouble. Anyway, if you're of good standing, and you train, and you're smart, they might take you an arc early."

He was expecting another outpouring of excitement, and yet his son just followed his gaze out into nothing. The air and sky between where they sat. But he could see the boy thinking, frowning as if this was yet another knotty arithmetic problem, like the kind he so hated. Such a serious expression on such a young face. Pinching chubby features together as he worked his closed lips from side to side.

"That's... a long time to wait."

"It just seems that way. But you won't be doing nothing during that time. I'll help you train. Teach you some things I learned in the Black Guard."

"Really?!" Ah, there was that excitement. Returning full bore and with friends to back it up. "Like-Like-Like sword fighting? And marching? And... stuff?!"

Again the killer laughed, not thinking on how long it had been since he'd shown such real, honest mirth with anyone before. Some dark corner of his mind told him he was being a fool; that this wasn't natural, wasn't right, wasn't who he was. He ignored it as a fuzzy white lump ambled over to him, and he petted Rufus, who seemed to have forgiven him.

"Stuff. Lots of stuff. But mostly how to fight properly. With a sword." He paused as Martyn's gaze snapped down and noticed a quite obvious... well, absence. "I don't have it on me, boy! It's back with my things."

"Can we practice today? Before you-"

"No." Iron suddenly shot through his words. No longer cajoling or convincing, now they were a drawbridge dropped in front of all alternate topics. He wagged a finger in the boy's face as he spoke. "You broke into the smithy. You stole his sword. You got caught. All bad things, so as punishment, you don't train with me this time. But-"

"Awwww, but father, come-"

"Enough!"

A family of starlings flew up as his bark ripped through the air, squawking as they went. Martyn's gaze dropped right away, shoulders hunched up as if expecting a blow. It wasn't hard for Kasoria to channel his father: how many times had the old man raged and railed at him, often prior to sliding off his belt? Plenty of times. Enough for him to remember that tone, that steel-shod pitch of do-not-fucking-argue-with-me.

Nice to know some things get passed on.

"... but you can see it before I go."

"... really?"

"Aye. Now let's get going."

Father and son rose from the clover, fresh and new and bright under the dying suns. By the time they left the hill behind, Rufus scampering around them both, the twin silver coins of the moon were rising high. The sunlight struck their backs one more time - one small, restless, all the speed and fire of youth packed into one little package; the other, older, taller, but not by much, moving with the easy grace of a predator - and then they winked out behind the hill.

Night fell, and their time was over.

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[Kasoria]

76th Trial, Ashan, Arc 718
Westguard, West of Etzos
12th break

He slept in and did not feel bad about it. Alsome and his family made do without him helping on the farm for the majority of the year, it wouldn't hurt them if their guest kept to himself and his bed for the three or for trials he stayed over. Besides, he evened out the score with a fulsome purse pressed into his cousin's hand whenever he left. Food, lodging, soft sheets, candles... it all added up, oh, he was sure. He never asked for a bill, but Alsome was never stupid enough to ask for more than he was given, either.

"There was an accident last night."

Kasoria stopped packing his things into his bag. He was old enough to know nothing good could come from that tone; especially from a woman. He turned and found Reggie standing in his doorway, arms crossed, looking every inch the disapproving matron. Kasoria cocked an eyebrow. Well. This would be interesting. Mayhap she'd hold a candle to his Old Mum?

Not bloody likely.

"Oh?"

"The smithy, Tony? He was working late and one of his anvils fell on him," she said, clearly not believing a word she was saying. Her expression could have been used to build walls, and strong ones at that. "They say he'll lose his leg."

"Well. That's a shame."

"You mean that?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"He's going to go to the garrrison commander about Martyn, isn't he?"

"He might," Kasoria said, resuming his packing after taking Reggie's measure. He didn't see any flicker of his mother in her simmering anger: not the cunning or slyness that made the woman so dangerous to a young man who liked his secrets. All he saw in her was resentment and fear. Especially fear. "But that doesn't mean I'd want to see the man crippled. That's a little much-"

"Oh, even if he was going to go squealing about your-"

He was across the room and in inch from her face before she could get the next word out. As if it were a curse that could damn him, or a spell to banish him from her sight. The word, the word that died on her lips before she spoke it; that melted away into the air of the cottage as she looked into his eyes and saw icy, reptilian outrage staring back at her.

"Be careful," he said, words dropping from his mouth like slabs of lead, landing heavy if softly spoken. "Ally is my blood. You're not. Don't ever forget that."

"Reggie? Kas? Where are you?"

He stepped back just as the man of the house came into view, but there was no hiding the crackling, hissing air between the two of them. Alsome looked from man to woman and back again, before finally settling on Kasoria. He cocked his head and shrugged his shoulders. Kasoria just shrugged back and went to get the rest of his things packed up.

"Reggie was helping me pack. And told me about the smithy. And said she doesn't want me dirtying up her sheets again."

She had a decision to make, did the woman of the house. Part of her wanted to spew out all the bile and terror and anger that had been building up in her for arcs. The sickening, cloying stench that hung around the man whenever he was in their house, around her children. Acting like he was something he most certainly wasn't: a good and decent man. And now, now she knew he had brought violence to the town, done it was the same casual ease another man would swat an insect, and he denied it with the same attitude.

"I... yes."

His back to them both, Kasoria allowed himself a small smile. Ah, yes. All of that might have been true... but there was still the fear of what would happen. The black unknown in the aftermath of those words. They'd feel so good, so righteous, a purging, a cleansing of arcs of ill-feeling. But once they were spoken, they could not be taken back. He'd given her the merest taste of what he would do if the truth she and her husband knew ever left their lips. Delivered in such a manner that she would understand-

"Maybe you could stay at a tavern next time."

"Reggie?! Kas, she didn't-"

Well, I'll be damned.

"Not a bad idea, Reggie," he said, hoisting his traveling bag over his shoulder and tossing his cousin a purse as he went to the door. "But here's what's fair for the last few trials. All adds up, don't it?"

"Kas, my dad, he wouldn't want family staying anywhere but-"

"Ally, c'mon, it's me," he paused and patted his cousin's cheek, clasped the side of his neck like he was a brother. Regeta had to hold herself together and look away just to bear it. The sight of this... this... animal, pretending he was above all suspicion. "Last thing I'd want would be to upset your wife and your house. Next time? Maybe a tavern. Maybe I'll stay in the barn."

He turned and smiled to Regeta. At least, he moved his lips and showed his teeth. She swallowed and Alsome wondered what the hells he'd walked into.

"'scuse me. I'm gonna say goodbye to the girls. Got them some little dolls from the city. Thought they might like that..."

The man from Etzos left the room and they farmer and his wife waited until his footsteps were out the cottage before they spoke. She seemed to slump against the wall, breath coming out ragged and through a hand across her mouth. Instinctively, Alsome went to her, holding her shoulders.

"Reggie? Regeta, what-"

"Just... Just shut up, Alsome."

She hugged him. Like when they were young and courting and she was afraid his father would never agree to the match, so every embrace might be their last. Alsome gaped above her head but knew what his wife needed in that moment. So he just held on to her and rubbed her back, broad and strong and he loved her for it.

"You were right, Ally."

"About what?"

Her voice was a whisper. As if she feared who would be listening. "He brings it with him. Wherever he goes..."

Alsome held onto his wife, and didn't let go.

++++++++++

"Mister Kasoria!"

Thank the fucking Fates he's not forgotten that.

"'ello, little man!"

Their house wasn't on his way, but he swung by it regardless, of course. Westguard was in full bustle, like some younger, stunted sibling to the dark horizon far to the east. Even that far away, the furnaces of industry were churning away, belching great gusts of steam and smoke into the sky. Three days and three nights, yet you could use the pall as a damn compass to get to where you were going.

Kasoria turned his mind back to the here, the now, and the little boy standing with his mother outside their house. Jessye was sitting on a chair and darning socks, one of a basket that didn't look like they were all for boys. Part of her job, he supposed, or money she was picking up on the side. The idea of that, what it told her about her and how she hadn't changed, made him smile at her.

She smiled back, because it touched his eyes. Such a thing deserved recognition.

"You're going home?"

"Back to Etzos, yes," he said as he knelt down, "But I wanted to say goodbye to you first. Have you started that book yet?"

"Mummy read some of it to me last night!" In the span of five trills, the babbling boy transformed into a warrior-mage of ancient Etzos, leveling an invisible staff of power at the damned walls of Hiladrith. "'Thrice damned are ye, foul abasers of corpses! Come forth, from thy... erm..."

"Thy cursed ramparts?"

"Yeah, that! 'Come forth from thy cursed ramparts and feel the justice of Etzos, visited upon the liberation of Hiladrith!'"

Kasoria applauded politely, and Jessye joined in a moment later. Even a few passing faces turned in mild approval, at a little boy who seemed to have quite a mind for literature. Martyn grinned his big gap-toothed smile, and shrugged his skinny shoulders.

"We didn't get much further than that. Just when they got to the city walls. Did all that happen... Mister Kasoria? Did the people of Hiladrith really ask for help, and the Etzosi Army marched to save them?"

His father nodded sagely and noticed the hesitation before his name. It was difficult for the boy, to keep hiding the truth. But he knew it was necessary. That one so young could be so flexible in his thinking... well, it concerned and encouraged in equal measure.

"Aye, all true. My father and his father both told me about it. The merchant families begged the High Marshal for help, after the city was taken over by the Dead King. But I won't say anymore! It'll spoil the book."

"Okay. Um..." There was a pause. Pregnant and anxious and Kasoria, rat that he was, allowed the boy to drag it out. "... anything else?"

Kasoria winked and beckoned him come closer. He swung the bag from his back, opened one corner of it... and let the look on his son's face warm his black soul as he saw the handle of the gladius nestled among his things. Had he wore such a look, when he first beheld his sword? He'd been a few arcs older, angrier, a city lad with calluses on his knuckles instead of a country boy wandering the woods and hills... but he felt some strange link, there. Something that set the boy apart.

"Go ahead," he whispered, for he was breaking his own rules even by speaking. "You can hold it for a trill."

Martyn didn't need to be asked twice. His skinny hand snaked into the bag and gripped the handle of the gladius... and it fit just like it did his father. Kasoria knew they were in public, with witness aplenty, but he still leaned a little closer one last time.

"One day," he said, as he slowly pulled the bag away from the boy. "That will be yours. But you have to earn it, lad."

And you will never, ever have to earn it like I did.

He kept that last bit to himself. Covered his private vow with a smirk as he got back to his feet, sticking out his hand for a proper shake, man to man. Martyn squared his shoulders and gripped, shook up and down, firmly, just like he'd seen the traders do at market. Kasoria's lips split into a grin and he tousled the boy's hair, drawing a howl of indignation as he walked away. Jessye stood up as he did, and he nodded at her, too.

"Until that day."

Kasoria smiled, but even Martyn could tell it was different. Older. Deeper. Like it touched feelings etched in stone, or memories locked away.

Until the day I beat you. Until the day we meet again. Until the day I die, the day I live, the day I fall, the day I rise. Until that day when events stop just progressing and finally reach their peak. Until the day we all work towards, and dread. An Etzos farewell, fatalistic as the Outer Perimeter, hopeful as the Citadel. One shared by two children of that city, bred and raised in squalor and never seeing grass until they were almost grown.

"Until that day."

He kept walking down the street, snaking and dodging the wagons and carts of the citizenry, the marching, clanging patrols of soldiers. Kept walking and didn't dare look back to see the hopeful little figure watching him go, every step of the way. Until the crowds swallowed him up, and he was lost to the sight of mother and child.

Receipt

-33gn for lodging with Alsome and his family

[Kasoria]

Twenty Trials Later
Etzos

As whores went, Gilgan reckoned he'd bagged quite the winner in that last gaming house. She was smooth and clean-limbed, curvaceous but not with folds of fat anywhere unseemly. Bosom for days and high, sharp cheekbones. Young, too. He liked them young. Good and tight in the cunny, that's what a proper gentleman needed. And he was, after all, quite the gentleman.

Today, at any rate. Lady Fate being what she was, well, such a title could quickly desert a man. But Gilgan the Gambler had been a lucky little boy the last season. Quite amazing, actually. Den after dive after casino after high-stakes game have been stunned by his panache, his cunning, his sheer skill with cards that allowed him to just produce the cards he needed from thin air.

"Now-now-now, my lovely!" He said, chiding and chuckling in equal measure, straightening his cuffs as the tart tottered at his side. "Mind the clothes, if you please. Only the finest fabrics, don't you know."

He looked down adn grinned. Only the finest, and only from a tailor who'd crafted it just for him. One who'd used to be a gambler, too, and had snuck in all manner of clever little pockets and creases in the sleeves of that coat. Just large enough for, say... a card or two? Sometimes that's all a good gambler needed. One hand, one card, making the leap from a modest pot to a Big Win.

Gilgan had always been a good gambler. But something like his suit? That made him a rich one.

"Spare sum copper, sir?"

"Oh, fuck off, will you?!"

"Darling, please?!" Gilgan stood ramrod straight for a moment as his "companion" scolded the assemblage of rags and nauseating aromas. "This poor fellow idoes not deserve such ire. Here, good sir... have a silver. Fates, have two!"

Yes, that'll loosen her right up. Soft heart, soft touch, she'll think she has all the cards. But no-one ever does when they're up against Gilgan, my girl...

"Ooooooh such generosity, sir!" She batted her eyes and ran a shapely hand up his chest. "Perhaps we could find somewhere a little warmer? And private?"

"My dear, you are quite the mind-reader!"

Hooker and customer walked away, laughing and giggling and leaving the night-shrouded street ringing with the noise of it. For a trill it was quiet, save for the breathing of the beggar... which then became a shuffling, a sort of upward avalanche of shit-smelling clothes... until the figure was on his feet, and staring at the shadows of the two people who'd just went past him.

A hidden hand found the handle of the karambit at his back. Slid it from its sheath with the soft, hissing sigh of metal on leather. Practiced fingers tensed around the handle; keen, black eyes studied the vanishing gait of Gilgan and his latest conquest (if fucking a whore could be called "conquering"). She was drunk, not just tipsy. Wouldn't be much good as a witness. Gilgan was keeping his wits but still... he did not foresee any problems.

There was luck, then there was luck, then there was being a cheating cunt. After the third den he'd cleaned out, men that never trusted nor forgave set to examining the man. Who he was. Where he came from. Who he knew. When they knew what they needed to, they went to their benefactor, who'd simmered and growled about how cheating bastards like this brought them all down.

A final man had been dispatched. The last in a great chain of conspiracy and inquiry. A man who could be relied upon to... handle matters of a mortal nature.

The beard was growing back. The clothes were ragged and stinking yet again. All that was touched by the clean country air was gone, hidden in a closet until he was that man again. For now he was back, and the father of Martyn was dead. He thought no more of that face, those cheeks, those snaggly teeth and those vast dreams of youth and soldiery. He thought of arteries and ligaments. Organs and escape routes.

Night had fallen, and Kasoria glided across the cobbles, about his business.

[Doran Cooney]

Kasoria of Etzos

Knowledges
Deception: Adopting an Air of Indifference to Bad News
Intimidation: Letting Someone Know Family Ties Can Be Broken
Intimidation: Raising Your Voice For Quiet
Negotiation: Striking a Deal
Negotiation: Offering Knowledge for Obedience
Socialization: Bringing Gifts for Children

Loot: -33 GN for his stay at his cousin's
Injuries: N/A
Renown: N/A

Points 10

---

Ah, touching conclusion with an excellent fade back into "real life". Kasoria's interaction with lil' Marty on the hill was very well done - I could clearly see it, including all the under workings of Kasoria's darker tendencies in conflict with what he wants to raise his son to be. The interaction with Reggie though, by far, was my favorite. Kasoria is effortlessly dangerous, you can feel it in his threats and in his smiles and everything in between; playing it off as nothing with his cousin felt so natural and so terrifying. It was really great. I'm low-key sad it's over, but I'll be looking forward to your threads in the future!

Please edit your grade request, thank you!