Skara Braens

Part 13

Part 12 Vote Tally

Option A: 3
Option B: 0
Option C: 0

Oooph, that's cold, Adventurers. His sister is missing in action.  ONWARDS!

"I... That's classified," you reply, remembering Drest's story.

David's eyebrows rise.  You think that something like humour flickers across his features, but it is so quickly quelled that you cannot be sure.

"Very droll," David says, his unnerving gaze never leaving you.  "Now tell me."

You shake your head and take a step backwards.  David's green eyes narrow more.  He takes a step forward and uncrosses his arms.

"I'm going to find my sister, and you're going to help me.  Now tell me what you know."

Swallowing back intense discomfort, you shake your head again.  David has so unsettled you, you doubt you could speak now in any case.

The man before you takes another step forward, straightening out his shoulders and pushing his chest forward slightly in an effort to intimidate you.  It's working.

"Hello, David," Drest greets from the door of the prison.  In his hands he holds the lunch tray.  David straightens and backs away from you, looking particularly displeased with the intrusion.

"I need to speak with you, psionic," he says.

Drest sighs.  "I already told you, David.  My talents do not extend that way.  I cannot locate your sister for you."

"How do you know?  Have you ever tried?"

"David -"

"I'm just asking you to try!"

The sudden outburst makes you jump.  Drest seems immune to David's foul temper.  He merely shakes his head, looking sorry for the young man.

"Have you ever seen what happens when a psionic loses control?"

Silence answers Drest's question and so the psionic continues.

"I have," he says softly.  He meets David's eye.  "You don't want that happening to your sister, David."

"The day you need help, psionic," David growls in reply.  "Don't come asking me for it."

"It's alright, David.  I know."

With nothing more to say, David stalks from the prison, looking very much like you imagine a thundercloud would look if some magician turned it into a person.  With David gone, you feel yourself relax.  Your shoulders ache from the tension they were holding.

"Don't mind David," Drest murmurs as he hands you the tray of food... or food-like substances.  "He's an angry lad who has lost the only connection to love he ever had."

"His sister," you guess.

Drest nods.  "Twin sister, in fact.  They're all that survives of their once large family.  David saw his parents eaten alive by his older brothers."  Drest shakes his head.  "He's seen more trouble than most.  Things like that, they get to you."

"He said he's leaving today to go find her."

"Aye, well, that doesn't surprise me one bit."

"Will your leader not stop him?"

Drest grunted.  "He will try, and he will get nowhere.  David is not just angry.  He's also an exceptional soldier, with more strength than someone his build should have.  There is also the touch of talent about him, but it appears to be underdeveloped."

"He's a psionic?"

"He's a something, but what exactly is impossible to tell.  His talent has not manifested, which is unusual.  Usually by David's age, the talents have manifested, and been trained.  But not with him."

"Perhaps he is suppressing them?"

"That would take an incredible force of will, stranger.  No one has managed it yet."

"Oh."

"He is actually not as terrible as he appears.  I mean, to strangers, yes.  He is rude, distrusting and aggressive.  But I have watched him with his squad, and seen him often with his sister.  Beneath the bluster, deep under all that anger, there is a good heart.  Sometimes."

You smile and, suddenly ravenous, start eating.  In that time, Drest remains by your side and you converse.  Mostly it's about life in the compound, and how they are subject to infrequent attacks by hoards of the undead.  It is a losing battle.  These creatures cannot be killed.  Even cutting of their heads seems to have no effect.  They simply put the thing back on, or stumble around headless, tearing to shreds whatever they manage to get their hands on.  Only when they're burnt to ash do they stop their attacks.  With fuel in short supply, this is an enormous problem.

Scowling, you note, "That does not sound like an illness, Drest.  It sounds like dark magic."

Drest snorts.  "There's no such thing as magic, stranger."

"You say that, but here you are, a man who can read thoughts and sift through memories of others."

"Science, stranger."

"So you say, but you told me you were part of a breeding programme.  That what you are able to do is a talent.  Science did not create that talent, even if selective breeding strengthened it.  In any other world, those talented children would be considered magical."

"But we know better now."

"Do you?"

Drest looks at you, cocking his head.  "What do you mean, stranger?"

"I mean only that there are things in heaven and earth that cannot be explained away."

"Not yet, but science will get us there."

"Perhaps your science will one day discover that magic does in fact exist."

The psionic smiles softly, and you know that Drest is merely humouring you in this moment, but you cannot let go of the image of these animated dead that cannot be killed by anything save fire.  There can be no other explanation.

Can there?

Before you can continue the conversation, the lights in the prison turn off.  There is a strange sound that gets lower even as it fades.  There is a flicker of light and then a clunk, and red lights on the floor turn on, providing just enough light to see.

"Uh-oh," Drest murmurs.

"Uh-oh?"

"Something's happened to the power generator.  Wait here, I'll see what's going on."

"Wait," you say, grabbing Drest's sleeve, dragging him back.  "Do you hear that?"

Pausing, Drest frowns.  "I hear nothing."

"Exactly."

You both stand in silence a moment, ears straining, but everything is silent.  Deathly silent.

"Stay here," Drest says.

What do you do?

a) Stay, duh.  It's scary out there.
b) Go with Drest.  You insist.
c) Follow Drest, but don't let him know.

Good luck, Adventurers!  Voting ends 15 September 2016 at midnight.