Session 4 : The Forbidden SonglineJao spirals down into darkness and pain. For a long time he can feel himself holding perfectly still, as it is the only way to avoid the agony of movement. And then, eventually, the agony subsides and he feels true darkness pull him under. There is an age of inchoate slumber. And then, Jao dreams.... It's a long time ago. Jao is sitting at an irregularly shaped table of fantastic glass, shot through with tiny moving bubbles. Atop the table is a go board carved from cedar. The pieces are arranged in the middle of the game. Lounging opposite him, with an unreadable expression is an opulently dressed woman. When Jao looks at her, her gaze flicks up from the board, which she has been staring at, to meet his. Her expression is unreadable. Jao looks down at the board. His pieces are thoroughly fenced in by the opposing pattern. Not overmatched, not yet, but certainly a tough match. But for some reason he can't focus on the game, can't really connect to it. There is a strange, dreamlike quality to everything. He looks up. Behind his opponent the room rises in terraced steps of white marble to a great bay window, framed by potted ferns. The window is round with a great gold frame and through it spills a light of a strange hue. With a start, Jao realizes that the odd colour comes from the fact that the window is underwater. A fish swims by, its tail flicking lazily. Jao rubs his eyes and looks again. Now Curious Ember is floating outside the window. Air spills helplessly from her mouth, escaping upwards in a rush of bubbles. The redheaded girl shouldn't be here, he thinks. She doesn't belong here. But she's tapping on the glass now. And where she taps, tiny spiderweb cracks impossibly form in the thick plate of the window. Crack. Crack. Crack. And then with a great roar, the sea enters, water flooding down those steps, sweeping potplants and tapestries before it. The Go board goes sweeping by, pieces scattered from their interlocking symmetries and the water rolls over him. It's wet. And warm. Something is pressing against Jao's face. It reminds him of the old smell-hound that Whispering Leaves used to keep, which would climb into his bed when he was a boy and nuzzle him awake, hoping for affection. But now, Jao is in the body of a chameleon, still shot through with aches and pains which feel as if they're several weeks closer to healing, and he has no idea where he is, or who or what is nuzzling him. So he plays possum, lying perfectly still and trying to keep his breathing regular. Despite this, the nuzzling stops and a lilting voice says, "So. You're awake." So Jao opens his eyes. And beholds a vision of loveliness. The girl is the palest he's ever seen, with skin as white as milk and a long waterfall of silvery hair which glints in the sunlight, sleeting into the small tent from the entrance which frames her. At first glance she seems young, but there is a timeless quality to her bearing, a depth of knowledge in the black pool of her gaze. Her head lifts, suddenly, aware of a sound from outside. "The others are returning," she says, and then slips out of the tent, disappearing from Jao's view. The chameleon flexes his acheing limbs, stretches and then bounds out into the beating sunlight, shifting his form back to beastman. The clearing is empty, heavy with the drone of vivid blue dragonflies and crimson beetles. A light breeze stirs the grasses. From the forest to his left he hears the distant rush of the river and, closer, the tread of people, moving through the forest. From out of the trees emerges the great warrior who interrupted the end of the battle with Rugar. The man still bears his great-spear, with a t-piece at the base of the broad iron blade to stop bodies becoming lodged on the shaft, and in the light of the clearing Jao can see a mass of tatoos and scarification in vivid pigment across his skin. Similarly anointed are his two companions - two of the most striking youths that Jao has ever seen. The girl has a mane of black hair and an expressive, lively face. She bears a pitcher of water. The boy is dressed like a warrior, but has the handsome face and lean figure of a dancer, with a great thatch of hair unruly about his head. The giant approaches fearlessly. Jao has already guessed who he is but now he confirms it, Dark Eyes, chieftan of the Red Scars tribe. It is rumoured that he, like Jao, is one of the forest gods, touched by the mark of Luna, and gazing on his saturnine countenance with striking brows of purest white, Jao has little doubt that is what he beholds. Dark Eyes introduces the boy and girl as Strikes Wisely and Wondrous Rainfall, two of his tribesmen who will be accompanying them on the pilgrimage. "Pilgrimage?" asks Jao, and Dark Eyes replies that, yes, they are journeying to Lost Sperlinka to visit an elder of their people, the moontouched ones, as is their way. Indeed, they are already south of the river, a long way east and in lands that none of the Ten Tribesmen has ever visited. They are following the Forbidden Songline, which legend tells brought the Tribesmen here from out of the east in the time of great sickness, two score of generations ago. Jao, however, is quite concerned about the immediate past: What happened to Rugar One-Eye? And what of the ghost, Worship of Many Worms and his tribeswoman, Steals From Memories? Dark Eyes explains that it has been four days since the battle in the Bone Faces lands. When he arrived, Rugar found himself alone and wounded, facing both the Red Scar and the ghost. Knowing the better part of valour, the Dragon-Blooded huntsman turned and fled into the forest. Worship of Many Worms did not pursue as he was more concerned about getting the injured Steals From Memories to a chirurgeon, and Dark Eyes himself was more concerned about Jao. The Full Moon goes on to explain that it is a matter of both tradition and necessity that Jao be brought before his liege lord, the No Moon Queen of Fangs, Lady Raksi, ruler of Sperlinka, as soon as possible. Placated for the moment, and knowing that Whispering Leaves will lead his people in safety to Silent Waters, Jao assents to the journey, provided they don't dawdle. This is what Dark Eyes wants to hear and the two younger Red Scars immediately begin breaking camp. That day, they journey on to the south and east with the forest becoming stranger and lusher around them. The temperature picks up and soon the day begins to swelter. Dark Eyes walks in front, singing the ancient songline softly to himself, almost in a waking trance as he unriddles its meaning, noting the signs of this blasted forest oak, that particular bend in a stream, this rock outcropping or the line between the noonday sun and that particular mountain to guide their path through the deepening woods. Jao walks a way behind him, keeping his thoughts to himself, and the youths follow further behind, nervous of the new god who has come among them in his bestial raiment. Their trail passes through a broad valley where many streams converge and the ground is a thick and sucking swamp, with only tufts of wiry marsh grass to tread upon. Away to the south, Jao's eye lights upon a great stack of impossible red rock, the colour of rusting iron, jutting like a finger into the sky. Overhead, the blazing blue is interrupted by the silhouettes of large, reptilian birds with tricorn heads, gliding on thin membranous wings. Dark Eyes leads the way unerringly through the treacherous swamp. Butterflies of vivid metallic hues flit around them, but when Wondrous Rainfall steps off the path while gazing at one, another form of life makes its presence known. With a shriek, the girl is suddenly dragged off her feat and down into the mud, some kind of thick tendril like a tree-root wrapped around her. Jao gets there first, thrusting his spear repeatedly into the mud until he uncovers the core of the beast itself, a great nest of necrotous globes, bags filled with squirming entrails, buried in the soft mud. More tendrils rise from the swamp to defend the beast and there is a frenzy of stabbing and slashing as Jao, Strikes Wisely and Dark Eyes savage the beast over and over until eventually its grappling limbs fall still. Muddied and spattered with ichor, they cross the remaining swamp with silence and caution. At the far side, a hot spring vents into a shallow stone pool and they take the chance to wash themselves before following a narrow crevasse into the cliff face and thus regaining the high ground on the valley's far side. To the north of them runs a line of hills, some of the greatest Jao has ever seen, although these are only the foothills of a stark mountain the colour of blue velvet in the evening sun. Eventually, they make camp in a small grove, not far from the foothills, on what is otherwise an open plane. Jao can't sleep. In the middle of the night, he slips from his tent and out of the grove and wanders out onto the broad expanse of the plane. Overhead, the last thin sliver of the moon adorns the sky and a few licks of cloud here and there occlude the stars. Hearing a sound, Jao turns, to see the pale woman regarding him, her hair flowing like a cloak, although there is no breeze to stir it. He follows as she leads him to a steep cliff at the edge of the hills and the two begin to climb. It's a long way up, free-climbing using only the jutting edges of rocks and the tough stubs of roots for purchase, and Jao does not look down. Eventually, he reaches the top. The girl is sitting with her legs curled up in front of her, long arms cradling them. Jao sits down beside her and the two of them gaze up at the silvered moon and talk of it a while. Eventually, the white girl rises. "Look to the west," she says. "Can you see it there, against the stars?" At first, Jao has no idea what she is talking about, but then, as he moves position, he can faintly catch something away in the distance. A singular darkness, occluding the stars. Tiny, although at the distance he estimates, it must be massive. "What is it?" he asks. "It is the world-spire. It springs from the centre of the Blessed Isle in what was once the Realm and is now ruled by the Dragon Blooded. The stories say that once it was possible to climb that mountain and reach Yu-Shan, the city of the gods." Jao asks her how she knows these things but she just says she has to have some secrets. "At least tell me your name," he asks and she replies, "Serena." Then she takes two quick, skipping steps and leaps out off the edge of the cliff, arms spreading in a graceful swan-dive which lasts an instant or two before her flesh flows and feathers, becoming a great white owl, curling on the breeze and riding the night wind away to the south, leaving the Chameleon Lunar - intrigued? irritated? - to the weary climb back down. But on reaching the plane, Jao does not return to the Red Scars' camp. Instead, he sets off to the southeast, across the plane. He walks for nearly and hour until he comes to the trees there. Even in the depths of night the forest is still close with heat and moisture. There, Jao resumes the shape of the chameleon and goes running up a trunk and into the canopy. He finds he thinks best like this. Glowing insects flit around the branch on which he curls, and the chameleon's tongue flicks to and 'fro, gathering a harvest of bugs by way of a late supper. They're tangy, and as his perceptions begin to blur and run a little Jao realizes that they have a mild hallucinogenic quality. Perfect for his purposes. Calling on old memories, he gradually enters a state of trance, aided by the continuing diet of bugs, calming his mind and reciting an ancient prayer which he still retains through some miracle of atavism. As Jao chants in his mind the night around him begins to shimmer and swim, and then one eye rotates to gaze upon the figure on the adjacent branch. Not just a chameleon, but The Chameleon, the archetype, perhaps vision, perhaps dream, but real nonetheless. "Great chameleon lord," thinks Jao, "it has been lo these many years since I have had the pleasure to prostrate myself before thee." Chameleon is pleased. It is not a major deity and there are few who remember or worship It in these lost times. But here is one that It knew of old, knew when he was Lead Wind's Council, and in many lives since. One glowing eye, made of heavenly fires of essence, swivels to regard the lunar, and Chameleon realizes that It is pleased to see this one. Jao offers Chameleon the feast of bugs that still dance around them in the night, oblivious to the god's presence. The spirit's glowing tongue ripples amongst them and great handfuls of tiny lights go out. For a time the two reptiles hold to their branches, chewing contentedly, and then talk of older times comes upon them. Jao tells the god that he is plagued by dreams of a fantastic city, a great wheel of gold set deep in the jungle, ruled over by proud reptile princes. Chameleon smiles, if such a thing is possible. "You have dreamt of the Dragon Kings," It says. "And of wondrous Rathess which they built in the days when men were yet young. The city fell long ago from its golden splendour, but yet it remains in the heart of the forest." Tell me, says Jao, where is it? And Chameleon replies, "Open your mind, and I will teach you a song...." The next morning, Dark Eyes and the Red Scars break camp. After some searching around, Dark Eyes finds Jao's tracks and follows them down to the forest's edge, where he stands, peering up into the canopy. "Jao?" he calls. For a minute, it seems as if the chameleon will ignore the other Lunar, who has dragged him so far from his home and people, but then with a spring he drops down onto the other's outstretched arm, then leaps to the ground, becoming his bestial self once more as he does so. That day as they journey on, Dark Eyes warns Jao that before nightfall they will have entered very dangerous lands. Their route will take them through the baan of Lord Poisonoak of the Seven Twilights, an ancient warrior of the Fair Folk who has ruled these lands since the time of the Contagion. The lands, Dark Eyes assures him, are tainted by the Wyld but most of its strength has failed by now. The real danger, however, is Lord Poisonoak and his ravagers, creatures which were once men but were corrupted and twisted by too much exposure to the energies of the Wyld and the fell magic of the Fair Folk. Now Lord Poisonoak leads them on a terrible hunt whenever his lands are disturbed. They will have to travel swift and lightly if they hope to avoid them. Most of the day is simply a matter of trekking through the jungle as the canopy overhead thickens. But as night begins to fall they cross a narrow stream and dip down into a great dell, forested with smaller, darker trees than the jungles around. These are the lands of Lord Poisonoak. After some walking, Dark Eyes pauses and raises one hand. For a moment, he's frozen, and then one hand goes to his spear. Jao hears them too, now, slipping through the woods not far away. The creatures are downwind of them and no doubt have their scent already. Jao's eyes swivel across the treeline and his claws extend from the tips of his opposable fingers. And then the beasts burst out of the treeline and lope towards them. Although once men, their forelimbs are twisted and elongated, so they lope like guerillas on arms whose flesh has fused to great claws like beetles'. Their scalps are bald and mottled with insectile blemishes, their eyes are wild and reddened and there is foam on their lips and crudely sharpened teeth. A half dozen of them rush forwards, howling eerily, and the battle is on. Jao leaps over the first one, his claws raking it terribly as they pass. Two more come upon him, and for a moment he is too busy dodging to strike back. Then he wheels and delivers a kick that punctures one of the beasts' intestines, dropping it to the ground, before spinning to rake the other with his claws. While it's screaming, Jao grabs its horrible head, a mocking parody of the human, and twists with all of his considerable strength. Looking up from the fallen, he sees Dark Eyes stepping away from a similar corpse in time to catch another ravager on the point of his great iron spear. Strikes Wisely, however, is in trouble, trying to keep two of the ululating brutes away from Wondrous Rainfall. As Jao watches, one of the ravagers ducks under the lad's spearpoint and its claws slash across his belly and thighs, dropping him to the ground. With a leap, Jao is upon it, breaking its back with the force of his landing. The other turns to face him and is struck down by Dark Eyes' spear-cast before the Full Moon turns to chase the one survivor into the tree line. Jao stoops by Strikes Wisely's side. The lad came mere inches away from being eviscerated and it's all Jao can do to improvise a quick tourniquet. Looking up, he sees Dark Eyes returning from the forest, shaking his head. "It's gone," he says. "Stealth has availed us nothing. Now we must choose speed and hope that it will be enough." With that, his form shifts to take on that of a great, savage ape, still marked by his curious white brows. The ape takes Strikes Wisely on its back and Jao takes Wondrous Rainfall, and then the forest blurs as the two Exalts call on the speed that Luna has given them, loping through the forest as quickly as their burdens will allow. They have not run for long when they hear behind them, high and ghostly, the pure silver call of a hunting horn. At this, the two Lunars redouble their pace, but soon they can hear scurrying and crashing in the trees on either side as more and more ravagers appear to harry them, herding them deeper into the fastness of the woods. Rather than engage, they run, until the trail leads down into a thick, swampy ravine, walled in by a great tangle of thorns. These plants are thick and virile, with thorns like blades, dripping with an envenomed sap. And they completely bar passage. Halting a moment, Jao and Dark Eyes look around, only to wheel at the sound of approaching hoofs behind them. Lord Poisonoak of the Seven Twilights has come to the clearing, riding on a great reptilian steed whose flanks glitter with ochre and yellow hues. The faerie warrior is dressed in a light lamellar armour, his thin noble face with its blue hair and wintery eyes framed by a dark helmet of enamelled leather, flanged in the style of the Fair Folk of old. Across his back is a silver hunting horn and in his hands a great bow. Behind him comes a terrible, twisted, gibbering mass of the ravagers. With no sign of fear, Jao addresses the rider. "Lord Poisonoak, look upon us and know us. We are the children of Luna and it will go the worse for you if you persist in this futile hunt. We will not be made sport of. Allow us passage and call off your ravagers, lest we slay more." But the faerie merely smiles his cruel smile and raises his bow, letting loose a terrible feathered storm of arrows. Jao springs into motion, his reptilian reflexes carrying him through the storm unscathed. Dark Eyes is not so lucky and two of the broadheaded arrows lodge deep within his tough flesh. With a loud cry, Jao launches his spear, burying it deep within the rapacious mouth of Lord Poisonoak's reptilian steed. The beast emits a terrible keening scream and then vanishes like a popped soap bubble. The faerie warrior lands nimbly, tosses his bow to the ground and draws a blade glittering with runes etched in cobalt fire. Stepping forward he launches a rapid flurry of blows at Jao, but the chameleon's preternatural speed comes to his aid, carrying him over, under, around the blade with impossible grace. Dark Eyes bounds in and knocks Lord Poisonoak flying. While he's down, Jao draws forth the fire wand he took from Ari Jackalstooth and hoses trains it on him, but the warrior rolls free. Behind him, however, the swamps burst into flames, cutting off his retreat and walling out the massed ravagers who can merely stare at their lord's battle. The end is not long in coming. Lord Poisonoak is a considerable warrior, once the commander of an execution host of the Fey during the invasion which accompanied the great Contagion. But 700 years of living easy and preying on the weak have dulled his edge and against the two Lunars he is overmatched. His blade is swift and its keening, unreal edge is deadly, but the children of Luna keep clear of it, circling and striking until the faerie drops his guard. Whereupon, Jao siezes him and, with a great roar, casts him back into the marshy inferno.
The scream Lord Poisonoak emits as the flames strip away the
dream-flesh with which his Wyld essence has clothed itself
these seven centuries causes a shiver to run up the spines
of all who hear it. Beyond the flames, the ravagers gibber
and squeal and then, one by one and then in packs, they begin
to drift away. At some point the drift becomes a trot and
then a stampede out, into the forest, so that by the time
that Jao and Dark Eyes hack a way through the thorns and
back to the trail the four members of the Ten Tribes are
alone in that strange wood, with only the jade-leaved
trees and the still-crackling thorns to bear witness to
the passing of the last of the Bright Host in the lands south
of the mountains and east of the running river.
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