The Scholar's Tale (Original Fantasy)

Sidestory: Burst Of Brass

AN: The first of a few post-EOS stories tying up loose ends. Aside from what happened to the crew and Aina shortly after the series, there are a few more already introduced or mentioned characters I could focus on before writing Midworld stuff unrelated to the main plot or the metaplot continuing in Sing, Silver Stars (S3). I'm still deciding whether to depict what happened between ST ending and BOS S3 here or in S3.

* * *

Mharra

The captain with no ship and no crew was usually a character found in riddles, not an actual person. Mharra wasn't sure how he felt about being the answer to a mind-bending question; he guessed that in his case, it would be themed around life not going the way people expected.

He was closer to his vessel than he'd ever been, literally and, aye, mayhap spiritually too. Less in the sense of getting to feel Burst's grouching as it happened, and more in terms of...

To be honest, he'd never been sure the steamer would go so far to save him. Oh, it'd helped him during that addled episode, and yes, maybe keeping a human alive was a trifle for it, but he'd expected it to abandon him at some point due to his moping getting on its nerves.

The ideal passenger, for Burst, was self-sufficient, tough, resourceful and, perhaps most importantly, smart enough not to bother it. It was, in a way, the ideal conveyance for the rugged explorer-adventurer.

Mharra supposed he ought to have been flattered he almost fit that preference (almost; his optimism, especially his tendency not to assume his worst of everyone, apparently grated on it, which was funny to hear, since Mharra had never considered himself too much of an optimist). Somehow, he couldn't quite bring himself to do it.

Knowing he was one with the steamer was one thing - his mind felt deeper, broader and quicker, his senses sharper, but he didn't really think differently - but feeling it every waking moment (an expression he'd need to stop using, as he hadn't slept, lately) was another matter.

Wires, tubes and machinery he couldn't name wound through his damaged flesh like veins and intestines, so that he felt every shift, every burst of heat or harnessed lightning and all the other energies the Burst tapped into. He knew machinery made his organs work and supported his limbs even without his input, and he was glad, but Mharra had never trusted help from things he didn't understand. Maybe he could get Burst to talk. Brag about the greatness of its inner workings, for example.

'Burst,' Mharra began. 'I was thinking-'

'I agree completely,' the steamer cut him off. 'My name does not make sense at all, but fret not, it shall be changed momentarily.'

He blinked. Once. Twice. 'Wha-'

'Obviously,' the ship continued, 'I can no longer be the "Rainbow" anything, for my hull does not bear anything to do with that, anymore.'

It was true. The garish paintjob had actually been gone for a while, but Mharra had stuck to the old name even as his ship had become able to shift shape.

'Therefore,' the ship rumbled, 'I shall henceforth be known as the Brass Burst.' It paused. 'You are welcome.'

What even for-oh, tides. 'Burst, if you're finding your identity, that's wonderful and no lie, but it's also not what I meant to speak to you about.'

A black cloud of smog hissed as it left his back. 'Typical,' Burst spat, 'you're only thinking about yourself, even as I haul you about like a menial. You're a slave driver, fleshbag. A slave driver.'

'...I do believe you are being dramatic.'

'Perhaps,' it replied haughtily, 'but prove me wrong. What did you want to talk about?'

'...Myse-'

'Hah!' it crowed. 'HAH! The selfishness is unbelievable! You'd be in poeces without me, but oh, what does that have to do with aught?'

'Burst!' Mharra snapped, frowning. 'That's what I bloody meant! I don't want to spend my whole life being hauled about by you! It's degrading and you're-' Insufferably abrasive, but was that safe to say? Especially when the ship could literally become so. '-obviously occupied, with your own thoughts.'

Burst was silent for a few moments. Then, it became suspicious. 'Why? What do you have to hide?'

Mharra managed not to roll his eyes. Somehow. 'Why don't you tell me? Since you're all up in my everything.'

'Hm? You think I'm reading your mind? Absurd.'

The silence that followed was no less awkward than any they'd shared the previous days, and more so than most. Eventually, Mharra sighed. 'Burst, I'm sick of walking on water towards nowhere. Can't we just float for a while?'

He felt it sneer at him. 'Aw, are we bored? Walking on water is not fantastic enough for us? Most humans would give anything to become capable of this!'

Mharra scoffed.

After a few moments, the steamer said, 'Besides, you'd get bored out of your thin flimsy skull staring at the same sea and sky until some monster attacked you. This way, at least we're staying active.'

'...Aye,' Mharra agreed, grudgingly. 'And the shape of this journey - a man on the brink of death still moving, showing the world his life is not over, might help us achieve its purpose.'

'You are absolutely right,' Burst responded, then fell quiet once more.

Mharra could've heard a pin drop in the ensuing silence. 'Burst,' he said flatly, not liking how quickly it had agreed, 'did you just make up a reason for our aimless movement?'

'You will never know, will you?' the ship said airily. 'You don't let our minds touch, remember?'

Mharra sighed. Again.

* * *

'There are worlds to walk yet, captain!' Burst exclaimed that night, raising their hand to point at the stars and, yes, even at the moon. Mharra had felt quite queasy looking at it, out of habit rather than actual danger (the steamer's fiery mind seemed able to counter Lunacy, though seeing the scarred sphere still felt like pressing his eye against a white-hot knife's edge), but he'd got used to this change. Ironically, it was something familiar to him that made him feel despondent, nowadays.

'Why do you still call me that?' Mharra asked voicelessly, knowing his thoughts were being carried to Burst by his intent.

Just as he knew that label was inappropriate at best by now, most likely mocking. What had he done that could be considered worthy of a captain? He'd managed to recover a lost crewman, if you were generous enough to call it that...but he'd lost Ryzhan, and after the mage had aided in the preservation of everything.

He didn't have the vaguest idea of where the spellslinger might have disappeared through, or even if he still lived. Meanwhile, he'd spent that time tangled up in his quest, then recovering with Burst's help.

A sideshow, when he was supposed to lead the troupe. More proof if it was still needed that it was absurd to pretend he could be the first in the company of Ryzhan and Ib.

The giant was gone, too. To pursue its grudge against the Free Fleet? Possibly. Likely. It was what Mharra would've done, and he'd weep no tears if the grey being ended up wiping the Fleet out. They'd brought it upon themselves.

Or maybe Ib didn't take things so personally anymore? Now that its schemes had succeeded, mayhap it would focus on bringing freedom to all.

Mharra felt himself smirk at that, not that one could've told by his visage. How easy would it be to rip the Free Fleet to shreds with that as a justification? They were, after all, quite oppressive. And if Ib took that route, Illuminaria was all but guaranteed to follow.

Then there would be the lesser tyrants and despots of Midworld, but they were quite far apart, were they not? Ib would need to bridge the cultural gaps between the ocean's travellers to help them shed their chains, whatever forms those took, and bridging the literal gaps whilst toppling whoever abused their authority could only help with that.

Mharra wished the giant luck it was unlikely to need. Few people with the power to do what Ib intended had the inclination for it, so truly, there was none better for the task.

'You are wrong,' Burst replied. 'Not about that overly shiny idiot's plans, but about how "losing" it and the mage makes you less of a captain. That they have gone their own way has naught to do with any neglect on your part. And even if you'd tried to abuse your authority and keep them with you...do you think that'd have worked?'

Mharra shook his head with a dry laugh. 'Be that as it may, I cannot be a captain without anyone to command, and what we have is a partnership.'

'More will follow,' Burst said calmly, and though Mharra couldn't place the source of its confidence, he found he couldn't deny the words, either. Somehow, he knew the ship was speaking truth.

He looked up and saw beyond light, vision unimpeded by the limit it imposed on the speed of the mundane. He glimpsed worlds spinning about their stars, most airless, nearly all lifeless - and of those inhabited, few could've glimpsed what passed for life there without having their minds blasted off their hinges. Mharra himself did not fancy travelling to those lands, for he had always preferred to go around places he'd have had to fight through, uncaring of the delay.

A wry smile would've curved Mharra's lips, had he any. But the ruin of his skull exposed raw muscle, and the bone of his lower jaw, thus his amusement only reached Burst through their bond; even the ship could've found nothing in Mharra's expression to indicate his mood. Perhaps someone better at reading faces might've caught a glimmer in a bloodshot eye, but the steamer had never cared much about such details unless pushed.

'Are we going to fly up there like some wingless bird? On jets of flame and lightning?' the - aye, why not? If the ship insisted - captain asked, and despite appearances, he was neither teasing nor doubting the chance of that happening. If Burst wanted to blaze its way into the stars, Mharra fully believed it would, even if that took it a million lifetimes.

In response to the question, the substance of the ship shifted about Mharra's head and shoulders; an approving nod, perhaps. 'We could walk the void itself, had we the need.' With maybe a hint of reproach, it added, 'I do not just float on water like some sorry raft, captain. I travel. Whatever the means, no matter the destination, I blaze trails.'

'For travel's sake,' Mharra suggested.

'A conceit,' Burst replied, 'of a very human sort. No. You fleshlings flit around out of boredom. I travel because that is what I am. Whether discovery or wonder awaits, I shall face it, as I would horror.'

'Oh? I did not know anything could scare you.'

'No more than a stone could be. But I bring plenty to frighten, and I am, also, prepared to face whatever terror of me might drive one to doing.'

Aye. That sounded more like it.

'Burst,' Mharra began later, when the dark was thinning, 'these planets' suns and moons are unlike those of greater Midworld, as I suspected, I gather.'

'Indeed. They cannot radiate strength and life and madness as they do light.' Mharra felt a pressure on one shoulder, like a reassuring squeeze. 'Far less dangerous to fly there than to fly to the Sun and Moon - not that I'd refuse the challenge.'

'No,' he chuckled, 'I thought you would not.'

Mharra thought he might like to walk the void. To see what lay above the tides, and maybe below. The world had gained its name for being between the celestial bodies in their eternal dance above and whatever lurked in gloom that had never seen light. Midworlders, burdened enough by the ocean, had rarely wished for more struggles.

Mharra had moved beyond that, in spirit. Perhaps it was time to do so in truth.