[Riot]

A Sapper’s Farewell


Coral Bay, Genabackis

The faint, almost odourless, scent of cinders was swept up from the bay, climbing with purpose as the energetic nature of the breeze carried the residue throughout the enclosed area.

Standing at the furthest most reach of the overlooking cliff which peaked the bay’s circumference, stood Corporal Lore.

Staring rigorously outwards towards the sea, eyes glinting with the over zealous illumination which was being cast down from the sun, Lore stood motionless in his standing.

The breeze ruffled at his hair, flinging the loose patchy entanglement with constant greed. His arms were held down beside him, in his right hand was his battered helm, held next to his waist. His other hand was empty, simply gripped into a fist.

Mere yards from his poisiton, the sheer drop down to the bay itself was perched, looming as a constant sense of forewarning to any loose step which may have been made.

The sounds which surrounded him were all natural, coming from the roaring intent of the sea itself as the waves crashed haphazardly into the welcoming embrace of the inlet, as well as the echoing screams from the seagulls as they threw themselves against the battling breeze.

The only unnatural element that was evident to his senses was the one for which he stared so purposefully towards.

Sighing aloud, feeling as if a wound had been opened deep within him, allowing for old memories to come stumbling into the wake of his near conscious mind, Lore refrained from any further act. Instead, he continued to stare, whilst the world around him simply continued on with its straight forward mannerisms.

Memories flooded his mind with scrambling attention, seeking to unsettle him further, seeming to scratch at the centre of his mind, clawing aside any sense of approval that he wished to conjure.

Eyes still locked upon the distant horizon, and to the object which was so very far away from his place, Lore licked at his lips.

His sight was fixed upon Moon Spawn, the flying fortress that had once been home to the formidable Anomander Rake and his Tiste Andii. Now however, the Lord had departed, leaving behind a floating tomb.

Lore shook his head, feeling his emotions brimming within him. Moon Spawn was but a distance speck, yet even from the expanse that separated Lore from the airborne monolith, he could see that it was not flying true. Tilted and disjointed in its flight, the speck was closing ever further to the sea, moving ever eastwards over the Rust Ocean.

Lore had no doubt that eventually the floating crypt would seize lower and lower, the first glance of water striking the nadir of the floating rock, creating a sizeable wake in the water. As it descended, the surf would increase, intensifying as more and more of Moon Spawn plunged into the murky depths, finally disappearing from view, the ocean consuming the last floating fortress thought to exist.

Releasing a sigh, Lore was saddened more by the fact that the ocean would devour not only the vast spanning citadel, but also those who were entombed within. Breathing with deep welling breaths of inhalation, Lore tried to control his sorrow, yet was finding that the task was too huge for someone as grumpy and misgiving as himself.

Continuing to watch the distant citadel, Lore allowed his thoughts to flow over the images of the people who were entombed within its constructed magnificence.

The last of the Bridgeburners were enclosed within the floating fortress, and the image was of such colossal misfortune that Lore was still numb to the fact that many of his friends were truly dead.

Upon arriving to Coral, or at it was now called Black Coral, Lore with his two newly acquired sappers, Creases and Splinter, had sought out news from the Malazan troops that remained.

Lore had been disheartened by the apparent fact that Dujek and his remaining host had already left, returning to Seven Cities and leaving behind a small number of soldiers to maintain a presence for the empire. It was to these lingering soldiers that Lore sought out answers, desperate to discover if the news that had filtered through to him whilst he was stalled within Hatra was made up of any truth.

Unfortunately the word received from these dishevelled soldiers was of such shocking news, that Lore had spent a good few weeks mopping about doing nothing. Both Splinter and Creases had attempted to refuel his ambition, yet Lore felt beyond the need to do anything of great purpose.

Truth be told, Lore felt as if he had betrayed those who had fallen to this disease spread by the Pannion Domin and its ruthless seer. By not being there, at the end, Lore felt guilty, at fault for still being alive even though all he would have achieved even if he had still served under the host’s influence would have been his own death.

Sighing, Lore suddenly wondered if there was any purpose to his future. The desire to help Riot had lost its appeal, and he sensed that his appointment within the fold of Hood’s own Company would be a trait unworthy of his position. His self worth was at a low, and he was beginning to worship the ideal of joining his former colleagues. The edge of the cliff was so near, and all he had to do to achieve the accomplishment was to take but three steps. Three steps which would not only quash his heartbreak, but also end any lasting ideal of proceeding with the idiotic pursuit of life.

He was ready to take the first of three steps when a voice sounded from behind him.

‘Beautiful isn’t it!’

Not frightened by the words which were created from behind him, Lore simply twisted his head and saw as the person who had spoken took up a place beside him.

‘Beautiful but haunted!’ Lore remarked, forgetting instantly any thoughts of stepping forward.

The person who now stood beside him was female, and Lore had to admit that she was of startling beauty, so much so that for an instance he was beguiled by her image, wondering if she truly existed of if his mind had finally failed in its function.

‘Haunted!’ the woman scoffed ‘An apt image!’

Lore found himself nodding. The woman was slightly taller than himself, and she held her stance in almost regal standing. The fact that her skin was midnight black, and that she was alien in her appearance only made her more appealing in his eyes.

The Tiste Andii was staring towards Moon Spawn, and following her example, Lore returned his gaze to the distant monolith.

The two of them remained standing, each watching the remote floating mountain in silence, their thoughts flowing along the same ebbs, mixing and twisting in their paths.

Lore was enjoying the silence, finding that it was neither awkward nor disrupting, when the woman spoke once again.

‘You’ve been staring out from this position for some hours!’ she stated, eyes never leaving Moon Spawn.

Clearing his throat, Lore replied ‘Something that I have to do!’ he admitted.

‘Friends lost?’

‘Aye!’ he remarked, finding his throat tightening.

The woman nodded, and Lore could see from the corner of his eyes that she was just as sad, if not more, if that was possible, than himself.

Suddenly feeling as if he was imposing, he desperately sought for words that would allow for his departure.

The woman never allowed him the opportunity as she spoke once more ‘Many friends were lost here. Some dearer than others!’

Lore shifted his feet, unsure whether to answer would help matters.

The woman continued, speaking as if to release a burden that was stored within herself ‘They stood when others would have fallen. They sought to shatter an evil that was a burden not of their making. How can we live on when such as themselves have deserted us?’

The sorrow in the woman’s words were of such harrowing anxiety, that Lore felt as if his own grief was dwarfed by her hurt. Licking at his lips, feeling the light bristle of his beard touching the delicate softness of his tongue, he attempted to answer her,

‘Life is filled with times such as these,’ Lore informed her, wondering as he spoke if a person as lowly established as himself could remark on such things to someone who was possibly thousands of years his senior. Continuing he went on ‘Though our friends are dead, their efforts will not be forgotten. Their example will continue to push us on, to illustrate that even though most of us are mortal we will not bow down to the threat that manifests when chaos and evil tries to engulf us all,’

As he spoke, the woman lifted her gaze from Moon Spawn and instead focused her attention to Lore. Finishing his words, Lore suddenly found himself looking into the eyes of someone who was immortal, yet was shaken by the terrible events that had prevailed before Lore’s arrival.

‘You human’s continue to surprise me!’ she said, smiling a sad smile ‘I hope that it will always remain so,’

Finished in her statement, the woman nodded once before turning, walking away back down the slight slant which reached up to his position.

Staring after her, Lore felt the overwhelming sadness that had seeped from the Tiste Andii. His own grief was simple in comparison, yet he knew that they were styled upon the same alignment as her own.

Watching her move further and further away, he could see the emergence of Splinter and Creases, both making their way up the elevation with attempting jogging. The two Privates cast a glance to the departing Tiste Andii, yet paid little attention as they made their way to his position. Running together, they held between them a bag which they tried to stop from swinging about.

Betraying upon Splinters face was daft amusement, etched vigorously upon his features, his eyes alit with sparkling pleasure. Creases own expression was more fearful, especially when Splinter attempted to loft the bag that they shared.

‘Calm down!’ Creases warned, offering Splinter a stare of intense annoyance.

‘Sorry!’ Splinter meekly replied, before turning to look at Lore with the same rising sprite of emotion high upon his face ‘Look what we got here!’ he shook at the bag.

‘Splinter!’ Creases managed between gripped teeth.

‘Sorry!’ Splinter acknowledged once more.

Creases shook his head, yet he maintained his sturdy grip upon the bag that hung between himself and Splinter.

‘We’ve got something to cheer you up!’ Splinter nodded towards the bag, making sure that he didn’t shake nor unbalance its position.

Lore raised an eyebrow, showing his lack of impression.

Splinter either did not see Lore’s lack in enthusiasm, or he simply choose to ignore it. Whatever the case, Splinter pealed back the cover of the bag, revealing what was stored inside.

Lore leant forward, looking into the bag, eyes widening as he realised what he was staring at. A smile began to grow upon his features, the wide gaping sight of enjoyment that had been missing for the past few weeks.

‘Oh you bastards!’ Lore stated, eyes never leaving the contents of the bag ‘You God loving, stupid arse crazed bastards!’

‘Aye!’ Splinter said with the same look of amusement plastered upon his face.

‘Aye!’ Creases repeated, his words not nearly as passionate as his fellow Private.

‘Where did you get them?’ Lore asked, hand raised so his fingers stroked at his beard.

‘Monrath flyers just flew in!’ Splinter began to explain, head bobbing as his words went on ‘Saw them coming in from the north so we went to investigate,’

‘And they just handed these things over to you, did they?’ Lore asked.

‘Well…’ Splinter drawled ‘…not quiet,’

‘You bastards stole these things?’ Lore asked, not quite believing what he was hearing.

‘Not stole them. No!’ Splinter admitted ‘More like we borrowed them,’

‘You planning on giving them back?’

Creases spluttered before answering ‘Not bloody likely, not after what we had to go through to get these blasted things,’

‘I could kiss you both,’ Lore confessed ‘You damn stupid bastards!’

‘No thanks,’ Creases drew his head back, afraid that Lore may just fulfil the gesture.

Splinter just grinned, beaming with his accomplishment.

‘What have you got in there exactly?’ Lore asked, trying to judge what was stored within.

It was Creases who answered, reciting the numbers whilst he looked up into the sky, as if the list was writing high upon the running clouds ‘Eleven Cussers, Fourteen Sharpers, and three strange shape things which we don’t recognise!’

‘Three strange shaped things?’

‘Aye!’

‘Well! What do they look like?’

‘Strange!’ Splinter added his worth.

Both Lore and Creases glanced at the Private, offering him a fleeting look before returning their eyes back to each other.

‘Well?’ Lore prompted.

‘Looks kinda like a Sharper, only its has a flat bit at one end, almost like its been squashed!’ Creases explained.

Lore shook his head, not knowing quite what the younger man was explaining ‘Maybe some new type of munitions?’ he guessed.

‘Hopefully!’ Splinter stated, his eyes again glistening with intense enchantment.

Lore shook his head, wondering what he had created by allowing these two fools to become new sappers under his guidance.

Not as bad as some I trained! he thought to himself, smiling with the memory of some of those that he had once educated.

With the thought, he turned and looked back towards Moon Spawn. Again disappointment filled his emotional state, yet he could recognise the fact that he couldn’t live out his life constantly thinking of those who had been lost.

The face of the Tiste Andii woman sprung to mind, and he knew that the sadness that was reflected within her frame was of a higher magnitude; a thought that was strange in its creation.

Turning back to the two newly designated sappers, he saw the look of concern upon both of their gormless faces; concern for his own self, staring back at him upon their youthful features.

‘Best get going!’ he stated ‘Hood won’t wait round for us forever!’

Both men smiled with the knowledge that Lore was back to his old self, restored to the same person that they had first met within the hazardous settings of Hatra.

‘Well lets get going than!’ Lore waved a hand before him, indicating that they should get moving.

Splinter and Creases reacted by turning as one, carefully maintaining the bag worth of munitions with caution, knowing that one slight mishap might just destroy the cliff edge that they happened to be on.

Lore made to follow, yet paused and once more threw his sight backwards, offering Moon Spawn once finally glance of appraisal.

‘Good bye!’ he whispered, throat tightening as he spoke his final farewell.

Shrugging his shoulders, and tilting his head so to tweak out the kinks which penetrated his neck, he followed after his new comrades. Behind him he left behind the last residue of his past, whilst before him stretched out the future that was to be associated with this newly created company.





The End