The Silver Sphinx

 

“Someday, Yanek, none of this will be yours."

a Sinker father, showing his son his estate

 

 

First Void Day of Leagueheim, 126 HR

Rakalla had struggled for quite a while with her decision and she had definitely not taken it lightly. She knew how important the Prophecy was and that she should think very carefully about who she trusted on that front. But she had to talk about it to someone within her own faction. Someone who wasn't her factol or her factol's lover. She envied the other Chosen of her group in this regard. Krixxi had, for one thing, her best friend, the awakened rooster Figaro, with whom she could talk about it. On the other hand, her factol Karan was very uncomplicated and seemed to be quite in tune with the fidgety goblin woman. Sgillin, whom she had recently met, was not accountable to any factol and seemed to get along well with Krystall, so he could share his concerns and thoughts about the Prophecy with her. She didn't know whether Blackhoof had confided in anyone else in his faction, but his factol Lhar was approachable and down-to-earth and seemed to have a good relationship with him. Zamakis ... well, the vampire was probably the only one whose factol was just as much of a challenge. But at least Skall was rarely in Sigil, and Zamakis seemed to get along with Oridi. Especially since the withdrawn undead didn't give the impression of having a great need to share her thoughts. Vampires ... Rakalla, however, was impulsive and emotional and needed to talk to someone from time to time. Sure, there were the other Chosen, but she missed someone in her own faction whom she trusted in this regard. Her relationship with Pentar could at best be described as problematic. Since the factol was a Ravager and she was an Observer, there were many differences, from a philosophical point of view alone. And on a personal level, she had never really appreciated Pentar. Her consort, Ely Cromlich, whom Rakalla instinctively distrusted, didn't improve the situation either. She might have confided in her mother or sister in Pelateia, but the Gorgon City was not Sigil and Rakalla did not want to bring the secrets and problems of the City of Doors to her old home. On the other hand, she had not lived in the Cage long enough to form many really close friendships.

There was the human barbarian Lyssa, with whom she often drank in the Black Sails. But although these evenings were always a welcome diversion, Lyssa seemed a little too simple-minded to talk to her about this matter. If she ever needed a strong fist, someone to reliably watch her back, the barbarian was certainly the woman for the job. But not so much for deep conversations about ancient prophecies. Then there was Velkryn, a wererat bard, and his friend Arug, a female ogrillon. She got along quite well with them, but Velkryn sympathized with the Ravagers’ views, which ultimately made Rakalla hesitate to tell him about the Prophecy. But there was the other bard, the tiefling. She had befriended him shortly after her arrival in Sigil and in the last year they had done a lot together. He had really grown on her and she felt she could trust him. Especially since she had concluded from his stories that he had already seen and experienced quite a bit of the multiverse. She therefore trusted him to handle something as crazy as the Prophecy. And then, during the flight with the Barracuda, it had also turned out that the blood hunter Síkhara was a long-standing friend of his. Rakalla liked the fire genasi; the two of them and the rest of the Barracuda crew often went out for a drink together. Besides, Krystall had also let her in on the Prophecy, so it seemed consistent to tell Haer'Dalis about it as well. So she had invited him to her place, in the Lower Ward, under the pretext of helping her test a new alchemical elixir and emptying a bottle of Crimson Fire in the process. This drink from Pelateia was not easy to get even in Sigil, but it was popular with tieflings and medusae alike. Pressed from the rather bitter juice of the dark red fireberry and then mixed with the sweet nectar and petals of the blue cliff rose, the drink got its special flavor from the kobold pepper pods that floated in it. For the moment, however, the bottle stood on the table unopened, and Rakalla was bustling around with some reagents in her laboratory, while the bard waited patiently, playing his lute. She filled a small bottle with topaz dust, crushed basilisk eggshells in a mortar and sorted a selection of shark teeth into a box, only to tip them out again and sort them anew. She just couldn't pull herself together, didn't know how to start the conversation.

Finally, she put the mortar down noisier than necessary and turned to her guest. “All right, let's forget about the elixir.”

He looked up from his instrument and gave her a questioning look. At first glance, one could have mistaken him for a half-elf, a fey-blooded one perhaps. The only sign that gave away his tiefling heritage was his bright blue hair. “What's up?” he asked. “Something gone awry?”

“Something like that. It's ... Let's just forget about it, yes?“ She went over to him from the corner where she had set up her laboratory.

“Whatever you say.” He shrugged. “But it's a shame, I was curious about what you had in mind. I thought you might petrify me and then try a tincture to reverse it. Something like that.”

She looked at him in amazement. “You wouldn't really let me petrify you, would you?”

“Oh, I trust you.” He grinned. “Besides, worse things have happened to me.”

She took a seat next to him on the sofa, which she had improvised from a few sturdy wooden boxes and old cushions, and eyed him thoughtfully. “Yes, you have ... been through a lot, huh?”

“You could say that,” he replied cheerfully. “I was on the Prime for a while, and some really weird things happened there.”

“You told me about that, yes. Oerth, right? No ... Krynn?”

He laughed. “Toril. I went there with my theater group after we had to leave Sigil for a while because of this somewhat controversial play. That's also where I met Síkhara. We were in a city called Athkatla – well, at first. After that, we went to other places. It was a wild time. Later, I ended up in the Abyss because I fell for this alu and ... Well, you know the story. After that, I stayed in Sigil for a while, but then returned to Toril ... another wild story ... and now I'm back here again.”

She shook her head, making her snakes hiss softly. “And I was actually only in Pelateia and Sigil. Kind of boring, isn't it?”

“Boring?” He put down his lute and leaned against the cushions. “A city full of medusae is supposed to be boring? You can't be serious.”

“Well, I grew up there, so it's normal for me.” She smiled. “But if you're interested, I'd be happy to show you the city sometime.”

“The Beauty on the Hills!” He spread his arms theatrically as he quoted her hometown’s nickname. ”And how I would love it, my beautiful jungle viper.”

Rakalla had to smile. The tiefling often used quite flowery language and had a habit of addressing his friends with animal names. She took the bottle of Crimson Fire, uncorked it and poured them both a glass. “It's a deal,” she said, as she clinked glasses with him. She hesitated for another second, then pulled herself together. “Haer'Dalis ... can you keep a secret?”

He put down the glass he had just been about to drink from. It spoke for him that he immediately realized how serious she was. “This is something grave, isn't it? Well, this sparrow will listen and keep all your secrets,” he replied. “I promise.”

She nodded, took another deep breath, and then began to talk. About how she had first become aware of her gift, how Ely Cromlich had observed this and how Pentar had summoned her to tell her about the Prophecy and the God Machine. How she had met the other Chosen – Krixxi, Zamakis, Blackhoof, and finally Sgillin, the story with Eliath and the journey with the flying barracuda, when they had met Síkhara and sought and found the Keeper and the Proclaimer. Haer'Dalis asked a question now and then, but for the most part he let her tell her story to the end without interruption. Nevertheless, it took quite a while. An hour and half a bottle of Crimson Fire later, she finally leaned back against the cushions of the sofa and looked expectantly at her friend.

The bard scrutinized her closely, then let his gaze wander around the small apartment, finally poured himself another glass and looked at her again. There was a mixture of disbelief and enthusiasm in his eyes. “Now that , my dear friend, genuinely rivals my own stories.”

“Oh, thank you, and that coming from you!” She laughed. ”And just by knowing about it, you will probably be involved in it somehow. Congratulations.”

“Hm.” He nodded, now a little more thoughtful. “That would be possible, of course. Well ... I guess, just acting in Sigil would have been too boring for this sparrow in the long run. Sharee.” He raised his glass with the infernal toast.

She poured herself another drink, but paused before she clinked glasses with him. “I won't tell Pentar and Ely that I talked to you about it, so ...”

He raised his eyebrows. “That’s probably for the best, methinks. Yes, a wise decision, my beautiful viper. After all, the two of them are Ravagers, so you never know what to expect. We, on the other hand, as Observers, are more in tune.”

She grinned as her glass bumped against his. ”I knew we would understand each other.”