masterghandalf

Chapter 9: Thyra’s Story

“Are you sure about this?” Pitar asked Valyria as the two of them left The King’s Blades and made their way across the street. “We’ve been hunting down Thyra for the better part of a year, and now that we’ve found her we’re just walking away? And leaving those people with her? By the Flame, do you really think they can handle it?”

They reached the sidewalk across from the inn and Valyria seated herself on a bench, gesturing for Pitar to take a seat beside her. “I didn’t see any point in making a scene in public,” she said. “We don’t have any jurisdiction here, and if we tried to force the issue we’d most likely end up in King Kaius’s dungeons, where we’d be no good to anyone. The captain obviously didn’t trust us, but I think some of what I said got to her, and she seemed too smart to let a potential danger go free. And luckily for us, the elf-woman seemed to have a pretty good idea of what kind of threat a rakshasa represents, and what it might take to deal with it. If everything works out, she’ll manage to convince the captain to help us take Thyra.” She frowned, and closed her eyes. “Excuse me, the thing in Thyra’s body. Let’s not call it by my sister’s name anymore, all right?”

“And what are we going to do if the elf doesn’t come through, Val?” Pitar asked. “What if the mercenaries try to take on the rakshsasa by themselves and all get killed? They looked like they’d been around a few times, especially that hobgoblin, but I don’t think they have any idea what they’re up against. And worse, what if they decide they don’t believe us at all?”

“Then we’ll have to find another plan,” Valyria said. “Pitar, I want you to go back to the Scroll and wait; if the captain or any of her people come looking for us, I want you there. I’ll watch The King’s Blades, and if they try to leave without contacting us, or the rakshasa tries to slip away, I’ll know and send a message for you. If it comes to the worst, we can always tell the city guards what’s going on and try to get Kaius’s support.”

Pitar looked dubious. “I don’t know, Val,” he said. “We’re Thranish, and Flameites; I don’t think the city guards would care much for us. And from everything I’ve heard about Kaius III, his government isn’t something I’d want involved. He’s supposed to be a very dangerous man, and none too scrupulous.”

“Like I said, it’s a last resort,” Valyria replied. “But I doubt the Karrns want a rakshasa sniffing around their turf any more than we do. And the king may be a dangerous man, but he is just a man. I’d rather he get some sort of advantage out of this than the rakshasa be left free to pursue its agenda.”

“All right,” Pitar said, standing. “Good luck, then. I’ll see you later.” The paladin nodded sharply once, then turned and began to head up the street towards Aureon’s Scroll.

Valyria bought a flatbread from a nearby foods stall and returned to her bench, chewing thoughtfully as she watched the inn. Don’t worry, Thyra, she thought. I’ll save you if I can, but I’m afraid I’ll have to settle for avenging you.

///

“In. Now.”

Thyra stepped silently into Len and Yhani’s rented room, following the captain’s cold glare and sharply pointed finger. Technically, Thyra was still supposed to be in charge, but at the moment, she’d never felt less in charge of anything in her entire life. The shock of seeing Val and Pitar here still left her shaking, all the more because she had no idea what her sister and her partner had talked about with Len; she’d been too far away to hear much of their actual words. All she knew, from Len’s expression, was that her lies were up, but she was still too frozen from fear to do anything about it. If the mercenaries knew, then what would they do with her?

Thyra took a seat on one of the beds, feeling for all the world like a small child about to be scolded by her parents; Len and Yhani took their seats opposite her, while the rest of the company filed around the edges of the room, suspicion clouding their faces. The captain had made sure the whole team was in attendance, having even pulled Rinnean and Havaktri from their rooms, where the elf had still been resting, and the kalashtar meditating. Looking around at those who hadn’t been in the common room, Thyra saw that Harsk’s expression was carefully neutral, Rinnean’s thoughtful, and Havaktri’s entirely alien and unreadable – whatever in the kalashtar girl was human, it wasn’t at all evident at the moment.

“Now that we’re away from prying ears,” Len said, “our client has some explaining to do, and for her sake she had better do it quickly and be very convincing.” Her eyes hardened even further, if possible. “Well, girl? What do you have to say for yourself?”

“What did Valyria tell you?” Thyra said in a soft voice; it was all that managed to get out.

“Your sister,” Yhani said, carefully emphasizing the relationship, “informed us that you were a demonic creature that had taken over Thyra Entarro’s body and was using us in part of some scheme to bring chaos to Khorvaire.”

Thyra’s heart skipped a beat, but Rinnean whistled loudly. “Well,” he said, “I had a feeling she wasn’t telling us everything, but that’s a twist I didn’t see coming. She doesn’t look like a demon, but then, Harsk doesn’t look like a sanctimonious would-be druid either, so appearances can be deceiving.”

Harsk merely gave a derisive snort, but Yhani held up her hand. “Quiet, both of you,” she said. “I do not believe Thyra is a demon; I have been watching her carefully ever since Sharn, and I think a true demon would be rather more skilled at hiding its secrets.” Thyra was uncertain whether to be relieved or offended at that statement, but before she could decide, Yhani continued. “However, Sister Valyria seemed entirely convinced of her belief, and her distress appeared all too genuine. And Miss Thyra has certainly been keeping secrets from us about herself and why she hired us.”

“So,” Len said, “we’re going to give you a chance to come clean. Tell us what in Dolurrh is really going on, and it had better be true. I’m going to be watching you; I’m a pretty good liar myself, and I think I can tell if you’re lying. If I can’t, then Havaktri will be reading you through the whole conversation, and your thoughts had better, for your sake, match up with what you’re telling us. If they don’t, if we have any hint of you being this rakshasa thing Valyria says you are, then we’re delivering you straight to her.”

Thyra arched an eyebrow. “And what if I am a rakshasa and decide I’d be better off killing you all and finding another bunch of sellswords to dupe?”

Len’s smile was wintry. “None of us are easy pickings, kid. We know what we’re doing, and maybe we couldn’t kill you, but we’d force you to reveal yourself and make a public spectacle in the middle of the capital city of one of the most militarized nations in Khorvaire. If we don’t get you, and Valyria doesn’t get you, you’ll still find yourself having to explain things to King Kaius, and I doubt he’ll be a very kind audience. But if you are what you look like, you don’t have to worry about any of that.” She glanced over at Havaktri. “Are you ready?”

Havaktri closed her eyes and nodded once. “I can feel her thoughts. Thyra, you may begin at any time.”

Thyra closed her eyes, breathed in steadily, then began speaking. “I was born in Flamekeep and my parents are both clerics of the Silver Flame. Ever since I was a small child, I always felt like I was being… called. That I’d been set apart, that I was meant for great things. Everyone else seemed to think that too, my parents especially, and even Val. She was always so serious even then, but I looked up to her and trusted her completely. From as early as I could think about the future, I had my life all planned out. I was going to be a great priestess of the Flame, greater than anyone I knew, and I was going to go out and banish darkness from the world, just like my namesake, Tira Miron.

“But after my sixteenth birthday, things started happening. I never studied arcane magic, but I was developing magical abilities. I wasn’t surprised, not at first. Some of my ancestors were sorcerers, and there’s no reason you can’t be a sorcerer and a cleric. But the powers I had, the spells I found myself learning intuitively, they… weren’t nice. They let me do things like manipulate and deceive, bend others to my will and hurt them if they refused. I was afraid. What sort of creature was I? I tried to hide it from my family, but Val was already an inquisitor at this point, trained to find things out, and I knew she’d get it out of me sooner or later. I had to figure out what was wrong with me, so I went to my father’s friend Brother Nalin, who was a noted magical scholar.

“Brother Nalin told me a story. He spoke of ancient demons that once ruled the world, called rakshasas. He said they had powers like mine, that they were shapeshifters, illusionists, deceivers.” Thyra shuddered, drawing a deep breath before continuing. “He said that sometimes these rakshasas had children with mortals, and these children had children, and so on down the line, blending seamlessly among humans until they forgot their own heritage, but that the power was always there, slumbering, until after countless generations it might awaken again.” She looked up at Len, and was shamed to feel tears in the edges of her eyes. “That’s what I am, Captain. Somewhere in my family’s distant history a rakshasa disguised itself and laid down with one of my ancestors, and I… I’m the result. That’s why I’m a sorcerer, because my ancestors’ power moves through me.”

“True,” Havaktri said, breaking the silence that had fallen after Thyra finished speaking. “All true so far, at least as I can tell. And fascinating! I wonder – “

“Not no,” Yhani said, quietly but firmly; Havaktri looked guilty. “Please continue, Thyra.”

“All right,” the young woman said, taking another deep breath. “Nalin told me that there were records of other people like me, and he said that sometimes, when they grew powerful enough, their magic overtook them and they… changed, becoming rakshasas themselves. He warned me that… that if the Church hierarchy found out, they’d try to exorcise me, and when I couldn’t be exorcised, they’d kill me, to be on the safe side. He told me to get out of Flamekeep, to go to Sharn and find a professor at Morgrave University he knew who could help me. I used my powers to disguise myself as my mother, stole money from my family’s savings, and fled that night.”

“That all still true?” Ghazaan asked Havaktri, who nodded. “But then what happened to the priest? That Flame girl said he was dead, and it was Thyra who did it.”

“Brother Nalin? Dead?” Thyra doubled over; Nalin had been like a brother to her father, and his death was like a punch to the gut. “When? How?” She looked up, eyes wild. “It wasn’t me, I promise! I would never, how could Val think…” she shook her head. “Val. No wonder she thinks I’m a monster.” Thyra doubled over again, tears streaming from her eyes.

“Would you like a moment?” Yhani asked, but Thyra shook her head.

“No. Best to get it over with,” she said. “I did what Nalin asked. I went to Sharn, enrolled at Morgrave using the money I stole to pay admissions and my… abilities to help move the process along. I met Taras Zanthan, the professor Nalin had spoken of. He knew who I was, and why I was there, because Nalin had sent him a letter – apparently, before… before he died – and he promised he’d find some way to help me get rid of this taint. Then, about a month ago, he told me he’d heard rumors of a map that had been found, dating back to the Age of Demons, that showed a vault where an artifact was kept – something that might be powerful enough to get rid of my rakshasa blood, to make me me again. The only problem was, the map had been bought by a powerful man in Karrnath – ir’Sarrin. He wasn’t about to give it up, so Taras suggested we steal it.” She looked at Len. “And that’s where you come in.”

“So far as I can tell, all true,” Havaktri said. “At least, the thoughts in her mind matched the ones she was voicing, and I don’t think she’s skilled enough to deceive me.
”
“Hmmm,” Harsk said. “That’s quite a story. Especially if it’s true. But I’ve never heard of any magic that could make a sorcerer into a normal person, and I spent some time with the Ashbound Druids when I was her age. They hate arcane magic, and if it was possible to take that magic away for good, I think they’d know it and use it.”

“It is possible the ancients developed powers we simply do not know about,” Yhani said slowly. “Whether the demons themselves, or the dragons who warred against them, trying to counteract each other’s abilities. If there is one thing I have learned in my own studies, it is that we should never assume that simply because we have lightning rails and airships and warforged, that we know better than those who came before.”

“Well, maybe I’m stupid, but Thyra, I believe you,” Len said. “That doesn’t mean I’m happy with you for lying to us, though I get why you did it. You could have just told us you were representing this Taras Zanthan and it would’ve saved us all a lot of grief. But now I’ve got half a mind to go see if we could talk some sense into your sister about this, convince her that you’re not actually an evil prehistoric monster.”

“No!” Thyra said, more sharply than she’d intended; everyone regarded her with surprised expressions. “Listen, Captain, when you were talking to Valyria, how did she talk about me?”

Len shrugged. “Mostly like Thyra Entarro was dead and you were something driving her corpse around. I think it’d do her good to realize that you were still alive and innocent of the murder she thinks you committed.”

“Exactly,” Thyra said. “Valyria thinks I’ve been… possessed, or replaced, or something, and that’s going to affect her judgment. I know my sister, and she’s hard, unyielding, stubborn. You don’t get to be an inquisitor by being soft and sentimental. She’d probably kill me as soon as she saw me, thinking she was avenging her sister’s death and only figure out her mistake afterwards.” She looked down at her hands. “When I face her, I want it to be with this taint gone, so I can prove to her that it’s really me and she doesn’t have to fight.” And I can’t face my family with the shame of what I am hanging over me, she thought. This didn’t come from nowhere. If it’s in me, it must have been in one of my parents, too – and even Val. If I tell them about our heritage, I have to give us all a way out.

And both Nalin and Taras told me I shouldn’t risk facing servants of the Flame without proof I could be saved…

“Suit yourself,” Len said, shrugging again. “You’re still our client, Thyra, at least for now. Since you apparently aren’t an ancient demon, our contract still stands until that map is out of ir’Sarrin’s manor and in your hands.” Her eyes hardened sharply. “But don’t you ever. Lie. To me. Again. We need this money, badly, but one more sudden revelation or hidden agenda and we’re through, contract or no contract. Got it, kid?”

“Completely,” Thyra said, her voice absolutely sincere.

“Then tell us what you know about ir’Sarrin,” Len said, “leaving nothing out. I bet your sister’s still watching the inn, so let’s give her time to get nice and bored while we make plans.

///

Thyra’s secret is revealed. It should have been obvious from her pov sections that she wasn’t a real rakshasa, but she is a rakshasa-blooded sorcerer (see why I used Pathfinder rules?) Indeed, her whole concept as a character arose from the idea of a devout follower of the Silver Flame discovering she is, in part, one of the very creatures the Flame came into existence to bind. And it’s probably unsurprising that she’s turned out completely paranoid of other members of her faith, even her own family, and just wants her powers gone.

Also, if you’ve read any of my fics in other fandoms, Thyra is yet another example of me writing a young woman with supernatural powers and identity issues (Azula, Tahiri, Raven…). I have no idea why these kinds of character click for me so strongly, but I suspect a psychologist would have a field day with it.

Len would normally be more suspicious, but for reasons that will become clear before too long she’s sympathetic to Thyra’s position here – and having Havaktri scan Thyra’s mind helped in that regard. Of course, the question remains – if Thyra didn’t kill Brother Nalin, who did, and why? And why don’t Thyra and Valyria’s accounts of that murder line up? Needless to say, there are questions here that the characters will absolutely not be letting go, even if Len was convinced enough by Thyra’s story not to break off the contract.

Of course, Valyria’s not going to just let this slide either. A confrontation between sisters may be imminent, one way or another…

-MasterGhandalf