16 No Sleep for the Wicked

Only when my stomach rumbled did I finally stir, the day already melted to night.

"Good night," the Voice mocked.

I sighed back into bed, still exhausted after hours of sleep. I wasn't going to sleep at all if I didn't do something before morning came along.

I moved my body out of bed, my steps slow as my legs were still waking up.

Then came the knock on the door.

My body tensed, my heart hardened, my eyes went cold.

It had… annoyed me… infuriated me, that my first time had gone out like that.

And now, she was likely back for round two as Herzt would have ordered.

I opened the door.

"Oh! Sir Ash you're still awake!"

I sighed, the tension vacating me as I realized that it was just Teia, her feathered wings clutching a pillow to her chest.

"Is something wrong, Sir Ash?" Teia said as she cocked her head curiously.

"No. Nothing," I stated harsher than I intended, "Why do you have a pillow with you?"

"Well… it's been a while… you know… since we last slept together."

"Everyone has been rather busy around here recently."

"And what about you, traveller?" the Voice whispered into my ear, "You've been rather busy too, haven't you?"

...

"Sir Ash?"

"It's nothing," I smiled as I waved away the thought and the Voice. "I was going to do more research today and I just felt I needed to catch up on some sleep."

"So… can I sleep alongside you, Sir Ash?"

"I, uhm, slept so long that I don't think I'll need sleep anytime soon. I was planning on getting something to eat and then grabbing some books from Inks to…"

Teia just looked at me, wondering if I'd answer yes.

"Yeah, I'll come to bed afterwards." I sighed.

Stealthily cobbling together a sandwich under nothing but candlelight, I had my fill and left for the Golem Forge Library. Inks technically had two libraries, the one in the Forge being reserved for the practical minded textbooks and other books that just looked presentable, while her own room was reserved for the more… eccentric articles she'd salvaged from the inventories of passing traders.

I browsed her stock by meager candlelight, my finger darting across the unsorted books to find damn near anything remotely useful. There is plenty of knowledge in this world, and very little of it ever has any use. In the absence of experience, it was all I could put my faith in at this point. Maybe that was why I'd never gotten into university in the first place, that I ultimately regarded the information as… not very relevant. It had been interesting, no doubt, but maybe realizing that all chemical synthesis was performed in vats with multi-disciplinary micrometer precision had possibly alienated me from the magic of my youth. It had all been solved, and for someone like me… there would never be a place for me, wouldn't there?

…

The Voice did not pounce on me. Why?

"Oh come now, I prefer at least something of a challenge."

"Shut up would you."

"You were waiting for me to comment, weren't you? Oh what price would you pay to finally have someone you can talk to?"

"I already have people I can-"

"Do you really? How many times have you REALLY talked with them about anything?"

I sighed in defeat. I hadn't talked with them at all, had I? Not to the extent I should, and it infuriated me. What a coward I was.

"You finally accepted it. Bravo, coward." The Voice laughed as it faded from my thoughts.

It took me some time to go back to the task at hand, still processing the reality I was dealing with. It was then that my finger moved over a title with the words "Harpy" on it.

I brought the lamp closer.

'An Examination over the factionalization of those known as Harpies. Juleus van Lalur.'

I took the book out and flipped to the first page.

'From a mere village at the skirts of a forest, to a military force marching through open terrain, Harpies are perhaps the most common of tribal societies in the Empire. And yet, fewer species have agendas as incomprehensible.

The aim of this work is to uncover the implicit ideals and to administer a primer to Elven counsel on the matter of interharpy conflicts.'

Good enough for me, I thought as I added it to the pile of books.

Teia was already asleep by the time I came back to my room, the covers wrapped around her to stave off the chilling night. Hopefullyshe wouldn't wake up if I did some research for a few hours.

I opened up the book on Harpies and started reading…

'The information present has been compiled from a variety of sources, although I have intentionally limited the representation of the so-called 'adventuring guilds' so as to otherwise appease my publishers and members of the military. After all, what are 'adventurers' but untested and dutiless mercenaries?'

Elves hate adventurers? Probably had enough experiences with random warriors showing up in their houses and smashing all the pottery in the room for random trinkets…

'In entering the conversation on Harpies, it is important to first understand how we mythologize the Three Great Raptors.

The Noble Eagle, the Wise Owl, and the Occultic Raven.

These Birds of Prey have long dominated Harpy-kind and the Heroic tales told around Harpy campfires commonly include all three. The interest begins not with the inclusion of these, but rather in the event of a deviation. An Eagle is a noble and brave thing that many coat of arms proudly and rightly display. But consider for one moment if a Knight of many earned years had on his coat of arms an Owl. You have fought alongside him many times and would gladly consider him your brother-in-arms. One day, around the campfire with many other friendly soldiers, you ask him what the Owl means.

Instead of stating that it reflects his wisdom and the value of knowledge, the Knight instead talks about its powerful talons and its precise strike.

Bizarre, you and the others remark. That is not the way that Owls should be.

The Knight is right, that Owls indeed have powerful talons and are fully able to take prey in underbrush that Eagles or Hawks would not dare try. Yet you are also right, that Owls are understood to be wise and greatly value knowledge. There is something there, a difference between you in how the same animal can be imagined in a seemingly bizarre way.

Applied to Harpies, each tribe has its own specific imagination about which Raptor belongs where, and yet at the same time tinged with the material reality in that these Raptors have indeed sided with Harpy tribes in times past for varieties of reasons that the astute readers of War should be well accustomed to arguing about.

From the realm of theater that I have my background, I will recount more specifically the incident of the third edition of the Scarlet Hawk in the Elven Capital of Cascadeluna, whereby the noted Harpy playwright Rohms Rauchschwalbe was assailed to near death by a member of his extended tribal family for swapping out the Owl antagonist for an Eagle, as Rohms believed that the mythological perception of an Eagle would be more thematically appropriate. However, the Tribe that Rauchswalbe had been born into, the Hokcze, had in fact been oppressed by consistent Parliaments of Owls, and this change had rippled through the Harpy communities into what amounted to an attempted honor killing as recompense. Ernst has since retreated to the Dwarven overground settlement of Londeneum and committed to novels about the experiences of his own and many others who reject their tribal origins.

As a critic, I can't help but feel sorry for him on three accounts. Firstly, his skill in the visual hasn't necessarily translated properly into a purely written form. Second is his choice of living alongside Dwarves, whose material inclinations have long stifled their literary talents. Third is that the Harpy 'community' was not in unison on the verdict to assault Rohms. Aside from liberal shock and horror that a tribe would turn on its own kind, the tribes which were instead oppressed by the Eagles banded against those oppressed by the Owls, each tribe bringing with them their own line of rivalries and conflicts. This led to a variety of Dead Winter Riots on the outskirts of town that required military intervention.

The military, with little training or briefing of the complex situation at hand, had a rather poor time aiding the local town guard who also mismanaged on several fronts and I have quite heard enough chatter between the two over the true responsibilities.

This issue stemmed from old rivalries and preconceptions from groups so small as to barely be housed in a single abode, and yet their multitude results in the entire street in conflict.

While there might be only two factions to start with, the plurality of opinions and histories results in almost each house being its own position, with possibly anyone as the great foe. Not to mention those with the natural disposition to stir up trouble and throw the hornet's nest-'

"Sir Ash?" Teia moaned from the bed, rubbing her eyes in the dim candlelight.

"O-Oh hey, sorry for waking you."

Teia pouted angrily. "I thought you said you'd come to bed as soon as you got your books."

"Y-yeah, I just got engrossed into one is all."

"Hmmm… maybe if you're going to stay up longer then let me help out." Teia said, getting out of bed in her wool nightgown and making her way over to me.

"H-How are you going to do that?" I stammered again.

"Isn't blood supposed to help vampires stay alert and whatnot?" Teia asked as she perched herself on my lap. "Besides, aren't you supposed to be preparing for the Bloodstone ritual?"

"Y-yeah, I am, it's just… uhm…"

"Sir Ash!" Teia cracked in the quietest and most polite way imaginable, "I know people treat me like a little girl, except for Inks, and I like being treated like one a lot, but please don't push me away because I'm always too young and small! Especially for something I enjoy with someone like you…"

She trailed off, her cheeks turning red and averting her eyes.

"It's… uhm… too embarrassing for me to say it…"

I sighed heavily before rolling down one side of her nightgown.

"Get someplace comfy, alright?"

"Okay," Teia nodded, exposing her soft shoulder and neck towards me with a slight smile.

Time slowed to a crawl as I became aware of her every motion. Her legs squirmed on my lap as I drank from her, shivering as the breath from my nose tickled her skin. She was such a small girl…

"My, my, rather the beast aren't you?" the Voice mocked, "A girl like her, with you? Don't make me laugh. We both know exactly what you'll do when you look her in the eyes, predator."

My bite drew blood, my grip tightened into her skin.

I let go immediately, breathing fast in fright at what I'd done.

Teia's wing stifled the meager red flow from her shoulder, but from her face I knew I had hurt her. Yet still for some reason, she wasn't concerned for herself. She was concerned for me.

As her wing came up to touch me, I did the only thing I could do.

I looked away. Teia did the same.

Teia left my lap and curtsied. Then, she made her way to the door.

I didn't want to see her look back at me, but I knew she had.

The door closed behind her.

I lifted myself off the chair, let my body fall onto the mattress, and tried to sleep in the half-hour left before dawn.