Rebirth of the Nephilim

Most favored daughter, was it?

As Syd introduced herself and explained the situation to the two therions, Jay tilted her head down to regard the woman who was bundled and harnessed to her chest. Kerr had her head sticking out of the blankets, one horn caught in the fur she was wrapped in. Her long ears were perked and directed at the encounter below, a clear look of stern concentration replacing her normally unconcerned expression.

“Can you hear what they’re saying?” Jay asked quietly.

“Yes,” Kerr responded. “Most of those parasha down there aren’t worth our time, but Vidor is alright. That’s the old dog you’re talking to.”

“Who is he?”

“He’s sort of my uncle,” Kerr admitted, then amended with a short explanation. “Not really. He’s the brother of one of my father’s wives. No blood relation to me. But he isn’t a prick, so it’s good that he came out to greet us, I guess.”

As Kerr spoke, Syd was handing the scroll containing Emperor Somerulf’s proclamation to Vidor, along with a second scroll which explained Fortune’s Favored charter as a legally recognized international mercenary company. In the hushed silence created by the old man carefully reading the documents, Jay asked the question she most wanted an answer to in that moment.

“So… you’re the favorite?”

“Look, don’t make a bigger deal out of it than it is,” Kerr grumbled. “I mean—fuck, it’s not what you think.”

“I don’t know what to think,” Jay murmured. “You haven’t really told me anything about the situation. I’m not going to make you, but I feel like if you’re hiding some kind of princess status or something, it’s going to come out pretty soon.”

“I’m not a gods be damned princess,” Kerr cursed under her breath. “I was a fucking spoiled brat, okay? My mother was my father’s favorite wife, and I was her only child, so I was the favorite pup of the pack. I’m not next in line to run the clan or some shit like that. Doesn’t even work that way around here, in a sensible civilization. Eba… look, let’s not talk about this shit right now. Later. Just—later.”

“That’s fine,” Jay said mildly. “Your uncle wants to see you, though. I don’t think he fully believes me that you’re here.”

“Fine, whatever. Take me down. I should have just waited until night and snuck in to see the old fucker.”

Jay glided down to land just slightly behind and to the side of Syd, making sure that there was extra room between her and the two therions who had come out of the gates to greet her Syd self. Jadis paid careful attention to the two, as well as the rest of the assembled clan, since she was still somewhat concerned about how they might react upon seeing Kerr. She hadn’t expected them to roll out the red carpet, and their caution concerning her appearance was justified, but she still hadn’t gotten word from Vidor or whoever the black furred therion was about the emperor’s proclamation and Alex. If it looked like shit was going to go down, Jadis was fully prepared to grab Kerr and jet away.

It was because of her over-attention to the rest of the therions that Jadis almost missed it when her lover flopped onto the ground in a tangled mess of furs and harness.

“Suka!” Kerr exclaimed as she struggled to extract herself from tight bundle. “Fucking—ass blisters! Help me out of this, dammit!”

Jay quickly hurried to help the struggling archer out of the tangle, but Syd watched as the older therion’s expression shifted from suspicion, to shock, then to amused disbelief.

“Eto ty, Kerr?”

“Yes, it’s fucking me,” Kerr snapped at Vidor. “Speak Imperial! Jadis doesn’t understand enough of our language to have a fucking clue what we’re saying otherwise.”

“I would recognize that crude mouth anywhere,” the old therion let out a bark of laughter. “You have not changed.”

Before Kerr could respond to Vidor, the younger, black-furred man took a stomping step forward and growled out a demanding question.

“Gde ty byl? Pochemu ty ne vernulsya ran’she?”

“Fig tebe!?” Kerr shouted back at the man while making a rude gesture. “And I said to speak Imperial, dung sucker!”

“Fuck you!” the man snarled and made the same rude gesture back. “Woman of shit!”

“Never mind, your imperial still stinks, Kesh. Just keep your teeth clenched entirely.”

“Zavali ebalo!”

“Quiet,” Vidor commanded, his voice soft yet his tone hard as steel. “Kesh, you are shaming us in front of guests.”

The black-furred therion said a few more things in rapid fire that Jadis didn’t catch at all, but she got the distinct impression that he wasn’t happy to see Kerr. Or maybe it was Jadis and Alex that were agitating him. Probably a mix of all three. Vidor silenced him with a hand motion, before speaking a few more quiet words that Jadis couldn’t quite hear. Kesh’s expression was dark, but he took a step back, giving Vidor room to address Kerr.

“I believe you are who you say you are,” Vidor pronounced, his gaze flickering between Kerr and the two giants standing before him. “But your companions are difficult to trust, even with this scroll,” the man tapped the document he still held with one claw. “We must check you, with the seeing stones, to be sure you are not false.”

“Fine,” Kerr shrugged. “I’d use detect stones on us, too.”

“That one must come down, too,” Vidor pointed at Dys, who still hovered far above with Alex. “All must be checked.”

“Sure,” Kerr shot back, folding her arms across her chest as she glared at her uncle. “But just to be clear, if you do anything that even looks like you are going to hurt Alex, who is a Demon, not only will I consider you and the rest of Clan Nox my sworn enemy, Jadis will, too. And I think you’re smart enough to realize that you do not want a couple of CLR one hundred bitches pissed off at you.”

Vidor looked taken aback by the proclamation of Jadis and Kerr’s levels, but Kesh scoffed in obvious disbelief.

“You? One hundred?” he motioned at Kerr.

The archer glared back at him, then gave him a toothy snarl as she admitted a slight correction.

“Level ninety-eight. And how about you, brother? How many levels have you gained in five years?”

Kesh glared back yet didn’t say anything. Jadis got the impression that Kerr had just scored a critical hit against the man. Her brother, in fact, Jadis mentally corrected herself. She wasn’t exactly surprised by the revelation, but she hadn’t quite expected it, either. She supposed she would have to adjust her mental expectations about Kerr’s family going forward. She had one hundred and eleven brothers and sisters, after all. Who knew how many of the men and women in the crowd of archers just beyond the gate were Kerr’s siblings.

Still on high alert for any signs of an attack, Dys gently lowered herself to the ground. When Alex’s three-eyed head followed by her monstrous extra arms and a few tentacles popped out of the fur blanket coverings, a murmur went through the growing crowd of therions. Jadis couldn’t hope to understand what was being said, but she could recognize expressions and body language and she didn’t like what she saw. No one attacked, though, so Jadis kept her calm and waited. She didn’t let Alex down from the harness, though, just in case.

After a few short moments, a middle-aged therion woman who had light reddish hair and horns nearly identical to Vidor’s harshly curved pair walked out of the crowd. She was dressed in a similar manner to the older man, which still gave Jadis the impression of a scholar or mage. When the woman made eye contact with Kerr, she gave a hesitant smile, but quickly smoothed her features when Kesh glared at her.

“Hi, Raisa,” Kerr gave a half-hearted wave to the older woman.

“Good evening, Kerr,” Raisa replied in stilted imperial. “Ah, single moment.”

In short order, the familiar form of a bagel-shaped stone was presented, and the middle-aged woman used it to scan Jadis, Kerr, and Alex. Raisa reported her findings as she went, speaking the local language, and whatever she said caused some commotion among those listening, particularly when it came to words that Jadis was sure were numbers. There was a back and forth between Kesh and Vidor, but it quickly ended when the older therion made a decisive hand motion and held up the two signed and stamped scrolls Syd had given to him.

“Kerr, you and the Nephilim may enter,” Vidor said in a clear, calm tone that was meant to carry for all to hear. “The Demon may not enter the walls of our camp. Out of respect for Emperor Somerulf, no man, woman, or child of the Nox will raise a claw against the Demon called Alex, but unless the clan head, Nox va Ratosh, commands otherwise, no Spawn of Samleos will be allowed entry.”

It wasn’t the warm welcome Jadis had hoped for, but she hadn’t truly expected the ideal to be what greeted them. No one was going to attack Alex, so that would have to do. On a different, hopefully positive note, Jadis assumed from the fact that Ratosh’s word was still the final say in things, that meant that Kerr’s father was still alive.

“Maybe we won’t enter your ugly little walls at all,” Kerr shouted back at Vidor before Jadis could say anything. “Just tell my father I’m here, and he can come out to the gates to see me. We flew all the way from Volto for this shit. The least he could fucking do is take a walk out of his damned tent.”

Jadis saw the mix of frowns and crestfallen expressions that Kerr’s words caused among the gathering. Even Kesh, who had been glaring daggers at his sister, dropped his gaze. Raisa looked like she was going to start tearing up.

With an older man’s dignity, Vidor crossed the distance from the gate to where Kerr and Jadis stood. Holding out his hand, he offered the two scrolls back to Syd. She took them, but continued her silence, since Vidor’s eyes were on Kerr, not her.

“Your father will not be able to meet you at the gates,” the older therion said quietly, his voice only for the younger woman standing before him. “He will not be able to meet you anywhere but his bed. Even then, not for much longer. If you wish to speak to Ratosh, you should go to him now.”

“What’s killing the fucker?” Kerr asked, though there wasn’t as much bite in her tone as there had been a moment before.

“Time,” Vidor shrugged. “His sun has set. Villthyrial’s hunt calls for him.”

Jadis could see Kerr working her clenched jaw, fists creaking as she scowled at the space between her and Vidor. Reaching out, Jay put a gauntleted hand on her lover’s shoulder. Kerr stiffened but didn’t pull away from the contact. Taking a deep breath and exhaling through her nose, she nodded once.

“Then I’ll go see him.”

“Will your… companion, go with you?” Vidor asked, dark eyes looking between the three of Jadis.

“She’s my mate,” Kerr corrected. “And you’re damn right she’s coming.”

“I’ll stay out here with Alex,” Dys said. “Actually, I think we’ll fly up to that rock, over there. Unless there’s somewhere else we should wait?”

“The Hunter’s Stone is suitable,” Vidor nodded after he looked to where Dys was pointing. “I will have food sent for you and the—for Alex.”

As Vidor spoke, Jay noted that Kerr was eyeing the way ahead warily. The rest of the clan wasn’t dispersing to make room for her. In fact, even more of the therions had appeared, crowding the space and making a knot of bodies that would be impossible to push through. Even if the people weren’t in the way, Jadis was concerned about all of the ropes decorated with banners and dangling chimes and beads overhead. There was enough clearance for even a tall therion like Kerr with her large horns, but not enough for a Nephilim to walk through without pulling the tents down around her.

“Mind if we just hop over to the middle real quick?” Jay asked, looking at Kerr more than Vidor.

“I do not—”

“Fuck yeah,” Kerr let out a relieved sigh as she lifted her arms up to Jay. “Take me.”

Before Vidor or any of the others could make an objection, Jay took hold of Kerr and shot up into the air. Dys and Syd followed suit, but where Syd followed in the same direction as Jay, Dys veered off to land with Alex on the large rocky protrusion she had pointed out. A walk that probably would have taken thirty minutes thanks to the crowd of therions was reduced to a few seconds as Jay and Syd touched down in the middle of the camp, directly in front of the door that led into the massive, three-story tent of the clan head.

There were guards at the entrance, but the moment Kerr put her feet on the ground she snapped a few harsh words at the two men and they backed off. Both seemed to know Kerr, though they didn’t greet her with any kind of warmth, nor did she give them a second glance as she stalked into the tent. Jay followed behind, ducking low to get inside a doorway that was shaped in an oddly round design. Her Syd self stayed outside, hovering in the air to keep an eye on their surroundings, so she could watch the crowd of therions converge on the leader’s tent. She could already see Kesh, Vidor, and Raisa hurrying her way.

The inside of the tent was warm and smelled strongly of oil lamps and incense. Lanterns hung from a ceiling a foot too short for Jadis’ comfort, and the walls were decorated with the furs and skins of countless beasts. The wooden beams that held the first floor of the tent up were finely carved with armed therions and snarling beasts, and the floor was covered in a thick linen mat that felt soft underfoot. The wide open space of the first floor was sectioned off towards the back by cloth walls, but a large, half-circle table that surrounded a fire filled the middle of the space. Smoke rose from the firepit, channeled up the middle of the tent. There were wooden stairs that led up to the second floor on either side of the circular space, curved to match the outer wall of the tent.

A group of ten or so therions were waiting inside, all women. When Kerr and Jay entered, the startled women pulled apart from whatever discussion they were having, a mix of anger and surprise on their faces. However, one of the older members of the group, who had thickly braided gray hair and short, wide horns, took a step forward as a look of recognition crossed her face.

“Kerr? Eto ty?”

“Yes, Zifa, it’s me,” Kerr replied, her tone more subdued than it had been outside. “I’m here to see my father. With my mate, Jadis.”

The old woman blinked, confusion warring across her features. It was clear to Jadis that the elderly woman wanted to ask a great deal of questions, yet she held back. Instead, she motioned a few hand signs to Kerr, who responded with a few of her own. Then, with a shared look with the other women, the elder motioned for them to follow.

“Come,” Zifa said, waving Kerr and Jay forward. “Upstairs.”

The moment Jay put her foot on the first step, she realized that she wouldn’t be able to walk up to the second floor. Imperial and Voltonian architecture favored solid stone floors and walls, with tall ceilings to give lots of headroom. The clan head’s tent was made of wood and cloth, and the creaking that came when she put half her weight on the tread made it clear that the structure couldn’t hold her weight. Jadis still had her wings, though, so she mentally lifted herself off the ground and floated after Kerr and Zifa while doing her best to keep the ethereal tendrils of glowing magic from getting in the way.

Kerr didn’t make any introductions, and Jadis didn’t want to speak up and disrupt what was going relatively smoothly, so she didn’t ask who Zifa was. She looked old enough to be Kerr’s grandmother, but Jadis wasn’t sure. The thought came to her that maybe the woman was one of her father’s other wives, which was somewhat hard to believe since Zifa looked so old. However, as a small part of Jadis pointed out to her greater self, Nox va Ratosh was more than ninety years old, from what Kerr had mentioned. His wives, at least some of them, had to be getting up there in years, too.

On the second floor, the trio followed a hallway to an open door, where three more women of varying ages were gathered. When they reached the women, Zifa spoke to them quickly, while they whispered back in hushed voices, trading looks between each other while tossing glances at Kerr and Jay. Finally, one of the younger-looking of their number, who was probably forty at most, stepped forward. With a strangled noise deep in her chest, the light-haired therion threw her arms around Kerr in a tight embrace.

Kerr stiffened at the unexpected contact, but after a few seconds, she lightly patted the older woman on the back.

“Ya rad, chto vy snova s nami,” the woman whispered.

Kerr didn’t respond, and after a few more seconds, the woman let Kerr go and backed away. She and the other women moved further down the hall, giving Kerr room to enter the open door. All four continued to eye Jay with concern, but they didn’t try to stop her when she followed Kerr inside.

A large room with many intricately woven tapestries waited beyond the door. There were hides, horns, animal skulls, and any number of hunting trophies decorating the space. An armor stand holding a suit of boiled leather that was strikingly similar to Jadis’ own armor was placed to one side, and a huge unstrung bow stood against it. The gathered trinkets and possessions of a long and fruitful life were strewn across shelves and dressers, many of them shining with gold or enchantments, but the eye was drawn to the large bed on the far side of the room. There, a lumpy pile of old blankets slowly rose and fell in a shallow rhythm.

“Are you okay?” Jay spoke softly, calling out to her lover.

Kerr had frozen in place, staring at the distant bed. At Jay’s question, she reached out and took hold of her hand, squeezing tightly. Jadis wished she had taken her armor off, but she hadn’t even removed her helmets yet, with how fast everything had moved. Instead, she hovered just barely off the ground, head ducked and wings as far out of the way as she could make them, hoping and praying that her presence was enough for Kerr in that moment.

Eventually, Kerr let go of Jay’s hand and stepped up to the side of the bed. As she moved up behind her, Jay saw the man who lay beneath the patchwork blankets.

“He’s a lot smaller than I remembered,” Kerr whispered as she looked down at her father. “He’s so thin…”

The old therion in the bed was unfamiliar to Jadis. She had never met Ratosh; she only had Kerr’s stories to go on. The father she had described had been a large man, broad backed and full of strength and vigor. Powerful, loud, and a warrior who always led from the front of the pack. This was a man who could toss boulders aside, slay lions and drakes in his sleep, and survive a dozen arrows piercing his chest.

Or at least, he had been.

Ratosh was sickly thin. He had the look of a man who had once been muscled but had lost the mass with time and age. His once black fur was so salted with gray that he was practically white, and the thick curly coat was matted with sweat. The long brown horns that were a perfect match to Kerr’s pair were chipped and worn, and someone had tied a simple blue handkerchief around the right one. Broth stained the edges of his mouth, and the bowl of liquid sat to one side of the bed, mostly untouched. His eyes were closed, and his ears were limp. Jadis wasn’t sure if the man even knew they were there.

Then, suddenly, Ratosh’s nose twitched as he drew in a deep and labored breath. Slowly, his eyelids raised, revealing deep brown eyes that had gone glassy with near blindness.

“Ksyusha, eto ty, moya lyubimaya?”

His voice was a croak, aged and almost painful to listen to.

“Net, papa, eto ya,” Kerr replied quietly. “Kerr.”

Lyubimaya. Jadis knew that word from some of the things Kerr had said. It was an endearment, something like darling, or my love. Ksyusha was a word she knew as well. Or rather, it was a name. Kerr’s mother’s name.

“Kerr…” Ratosh rasped on another labored breath. “Mne zhal…”

“Sorry?” Kerr’s voice cracked slightly as she glared down at her father. “Now, you’re sorry? For what? For killing her? Are you sorry for that? What are you sorry for?”

Ratosh lifted a bony, clawed hand from under his covers. Thick and cracked callouses covered the pads of his fingers, but his wrist trembled with wizened infirmity. He held his thin hand up, not quite reaching Kerr. When he spoke again, his eyes closed around rasped words.

“I… am sorry for hurting you… For hurting you both…”

“But not for killing them,” Kerr stated flatly.

“Net,” Ratosh shook his head slightly from side to side. “I did… what I had to do… To protect the clan…”

An old anger that had slept as embers inside of Kerr roared into a burning flame at those words. Jadis could see the tension in her lover’s back as her clawed right hand lifted. For a moment, Jadis was certain that Kerr was going to strike Ratosh, or perhaps even strangle him. However, as Kerr bared her fangs, her father whispered out four more words.

“Ya skuchal po tebe.”

Jay watched the fire rise inside Kerr, burning her up from within, before it abruptly faltered, then fled her body in a great rush. All the tension fell from her shoulders as her head bowed and her eyes closed. Slowly, hesitantly, Kerr placed her clawed hand in her father’s and gently squeezed.

“I missed you, too.”