Severed Connection

Atka rolled over on her spot on the ground in the designated outdoor sleeping area. She liked to sleep outside, “under the shiny star” as she called it. She couldn’t lie on her stomach tonight for some reason. The discomfort was too great to handle. So, it was to be on her back then. She continued to roll each shoulder and fidget her legs in an attempt to get comfortable enough for sleep to take her.
 
“Oh, for the sake of–”
 
“Hello, Atka, my sweet quarter-niece.”
 
She leapt to her feet, after making sure her greatsword was in her hand this time. Atka stared down the demon Ire who seemed to radiate in the dark, his yellow eyes appearing as bright as small stars on his glimmering face. She panted as she had been startled up and was not at all at ease. “What do you want, devil?” her voice shook, remembering all of her night terrors and seeming to know what he was capable of.
 
Ire grinned that smarmy, smarmy grin at her and stepped forward, toward her readied (sort of) figure. She bounced back a step or two and raised the sword, wielding it in both hands naturally now. His cacophonous laugh made her tremble. “Retribution.”
 
“For what?”
 
Ire pondered that for a minute, as though he’d only said it because it sounded decent to say as an answer to her. Or that he hadn’t considered that she’d ask him to explain at all and wondered if he should tell her. It was probably that, she thought. “I want Jone’s promise. I want my contract fully fulfilled.”
 
“YOUR contract,” she spat back at him. “You sell her to those fighters in the Nether Mountains, north of Waterdeep, Neverwinter, pretty much all of Faerun, and you dare to tell me she promised you something–”
 
“Don’t insinuate that I’m a liar. There’s no money in it…for now. Read.” Ire instructed and dangled a thick, old-as-the-hills piece of parchment directly in front of her.
 
It was a long document, but Atka read it. It started simply, “An accord between brother and half-sister in the Mennith family line…” As she scanned her way through the contract, it became painfully obvious what it was saying. Her mother, Jone Mennith, was bartering for her freedom and the expense was essentially exceptional children. She (Jone) had mentioned that twice to him that night of his kidnapping of her and that she “wouldn’t do that” but would “pay the debt.” The debt was, according this parchment before her, 100 innocent souls to the contract holder.
 
“Did you read the last paragraph? My favorite part is when it says ‘And if I should bear children and any of them show promise for the work, I leave them to your care and direction should anything happen to me.’”
 
“You made something happen to her,” Atka said through gritted teeth. Ire’s grin did not fade, his affect of arrogance intact.
 
“She never specified that it had to be natural causes.”
 
Atka scoffed. “How was she supposed to fulfill her freedom–the benefit of the contract–, or pay her debt if she is under another type of contract, one of servitude?”
 
Ire shrugged. “I don’t make the rules.”
 
“You literally do.” She was exasperated, still frightened, and a little intrigued as to what he wanted. Ire’s laugh trickled down her spine, and reminded her of his hand going up it in her night terrors. She shuddered, careful not to let her eyes close. “So, what? Are you here to care for and direct me because of my promise for the work? I refuse to do devil’s work.”
 
“Ha! You show no promise, don’t you worry. It’s not you that I am after. I am here to do something far, far worse.” Ire’s face had descended into a maddening staidness. Atka’s face lost its color as the fear replaced intrigue. Ire shot forward, rolling the parchment and kicking her swiftly across the face so intensely that she spun fully midair to land on her back on the ground, winded and swordless.
 
Atka thought better than to grunt, better than to scream and wake everyone in the camp. She didn’t think her crew was around, nor did she want to assume that anyone in the camp was able to fight this level of foe. She wasn’t, that was certain.
 
“Ask me.” Ire said placing a heavy booted foot on her chest and kneeling his weight forward. His eyes clawed their way into her brain and she couldn’t process the order at all.
 
“W-what did you say?”
 
“Ask me what my intentions are, quarter-niece!” Hissing like a snake, he spoke through his barely parted lips. Atka’s labored breathing increased shallowly, but was too pressured for her to catch up with as her chest was pressed up against his weight. She squeezed her eyes shut to prevent him from the satisfaction of her fearful tears.
 
“What are your intentions with me, Ire?” she asked meekly through whispers.
 
He leaned down so that they were cheek-to-cheek and horn-to-horn, the weight of him on her chest almost too, too much. “You? Nothing. I come to ensure your knowledge that my intentions are for your twin.”
 
“Don’t you touch Mamnen. He’ll see right through you and you’ll have to kill him. And you don’t want his death on your hands,” she threatened loosely. Ire didn’t move a muscle except his yellow eyes to look at the side of her face.
 
“Touch? Touch. I don’t intend to touch him violently, even should he ‘see right through me.’” He almost purred as he added, “How does he…feel?”
 
Atka didn’t respond, knowing what he meant, not liking the double-entendre, and refusing him the satisfaction of her disappointment again.
 
“Oh, so it is gone.”
 
“Something must have happened to him, because I felt–”
 
“As though it was ripped from your very soul. The flame that burned and attached his and your feelings and intuitions is severed.”
 
“What have you done?” Atka whispered, wincing a bit.
 
She was met with another boisterous laugh right in her ear, and he pushed on his knee weighing her down to stand, causing the wind to flee from her unexpectedly. “What have I done, Atka Marduk? My job. He will not be pining after you, temptress devil, ever again.”
 
“Pining.” she repeated and forced herself onto her elbows, glowering up at him and wishing he’d remove his foot from her chest. Ire lowered his chin in a single affirming nod. “No matter. Even without it, he knows right from wrong, and was not raised by devilish influence–”
 
“Jone may have only been half of my sister, but she was completely evil. She did not have any intention of her children not falling under my care at some point. If she had not run from my check-ins, it would’ve been made as an understanding quite early as to her intentions with you three. She ran when she discovered she was having twins, because that potential is interesting and usually is highly unexceptional.”
 
“Unexceptional…”
 
“Jone didn’t want children of her own. She wanted freedom to do as she pleased. Make merry with many men, ‘mercenary’ work, and general epicurean living.”
 
“You’re lying,” Atka attempted to push off the ground and stand, but his leg pressed her down again. “I saw her with Mamnen. I remember her myself. She nurtured us.”
 
“She did her best to make you both exceptional.”
 
“Y-yes…?”
 
“But why do that if not to pawn you off to me as per the contract? Why not let you grow and mold as you naturally would?”
 
“Stop spinning. Just stop!”
 
“Mamnen shows promise, but he won’t continue to grow in his potential with your flame anchoring him to concern. Family is nothing.”
 
“You’re nothing.”
 
“I…” Ire paused to emphasize, “...am all that matters now. Your future is now in my control, whether you like it or not.”
 
“But I thought I didn’t make the cut.”
 
“You don’t think I’m just going to knife out the flame and leave you to your free musings, mini-Jone, quarter-niece?”
 
Atka gulped and said nothing, so he continued,
 
“I hope he infests your mind, intends to twist you, and plays games with you for my amusement. Yes, I hope it begins to drive you mad with fear when you see his authentic self.”
 
“Are we still talking about Mamnen? He wouldn’t harm me.”
 
“No, you’re the only twin that harms with words and twists of the mind, aren’t you?” Ire grinned and stepped off of her. She inhaled deeply, and again said nothing to him.
 
“Well, how about it?”
 
“Shut up.” Atka attempted to pacify herself with the order.
 
“I am truly sorry, but I can’t hear your frightened whisper. Did you just admit to me that you did harm him intentionally or just not refute doing it?”
 
Atka squeezed her eyes closed again, and covered her face, “I said, ‘Shut up!’”
 
Raucous laugh. Sulfur smell increasing. Depth of voice lowering. Ire appeared to be preparing his end game. “I encourage you to travel through Waterdeep and wander around, quarter-niece Atka. It might be traumatic, but reunions are touching. Sure, Waterdeep is a big city, but I know that your path is bringing you back there close to full time. Just how big of a city can house two rather large, prominent, showy tieflings? Just test the waters and see what kind of influence my power has.”
 
“What are you saying?”
 
“I’m saying that the longer you stay in Waterdeep, the stronger my webs spin you two meeting by ‘chance.’ Isn’t it funny how your dream lover assigned you to a mission here in Waterdeep, how you suddenly have people, comrades in arms, who seem to complement and accept you here in Waterdeep, and how you have somehow managed to rope a musical elf’s interest so tightly here in Waterdeep?”
 
“Are you actually claiming you influenced all that?” She asked, doubtful, and stood up to square with him.
 
“Well…” Ire grinned at her, “How about it?”
 
“My relationships are real.”
 
“Who’s saying they’re not ‘real’? What is ‘real’? I’m just saying that they’ve been touched or nudged. You have to admit that it’s peculiar that they all are happening right now, when you’ve essentially been a lone soldier across this plane for almost two decades.”
 
It was weird. Coincidences were real, though, she believed, and she wasn’t about to take the word of some devil. She slipped her boot under the blade of her greatsword and hoisted her leg up to throw the weapon into her adept hands. “Leave, devil.”
 
“Oh, I’ll leave you to stay in Waterdeep–Promise you’ll stay in Waterdeep.”
 
“I don’t fear you.”
 
He began to glow red, grin unfading, a sulfur smell protruding within her nostrils now. His ebony hair as long as hers began to levitate as though he was weightless. Atka readied her stance knowing he would attack her. “Yes, you do. And you should be afraid.”
 
He lunged forward, forearm connecting with her readied swing of the blade and knocking it just enough to the side that his heavy forehead slammed against hers.
 
And she woke up, eyes on the stars, back to the ground. Another night terror? But it seemed so real. She inhaled deeply from her spot on the ground, trying to get a scent of that strong sulfur. Her head didn’t scream in pain from the headbutt, or the kick. She couldn’t tell and it frightened her.
 
Placing her hand on her abdomen, Atka flinched. There was a radiating pain within her gut. She couldn’t explain it, but it was the same pain she felt a year after she left. She couldn’t sense her twin, she couldn’t sense his feelings, or whereabouts…
 
Surely someone saw the devil interaction, she thought and sat up slowly. Sleepers all around her who did appear to have been disturbed. Atka wanted to cry. Why were these terrors so vivid, appropriately relevant, and more importantly, why were they BACK?
 
Fuck you, Ire, Atka thought and glowered at the night sky. No, thank you, quarter-niece, she heard the snakey hiss in her head. There! She postured herself upright. Was that real? Or just what she imagined he’d say? “Oh, gods, gods, help me please,” she whispered and wept.