Settling In
The Garrison, Lecture Hall
Svetlana and Praetor Zell stood in the centre of a large room next to the large basin of water that had been in the basement, as the forty or so members of the Spiritual Garrison crowded around her, eager to finally see a rusalki up close. Zell noticed she was getting agitated, and started to gently gesture for them to back up.
"Don't crowd her, please." Zell stated, starting to shoo people away. "And don't pretend she can't hear you either."
"I speak and understand Gilnan and Karandi. Have some knowledge of Elven as well." Svetlana stated. "If you is going to gossip about me, make sure I don't hear you."
"Don't speak it very well." A soldier muttered, and received a withering glare from Svetlana in response.
"Optio Svetlana has joined the Garrison. She will be joining you on select missions that play to the strengths of a rusalki." Zell explained, to some dubious looks and raised eyebrows.
"That thing can be civilised?" A man asked, only to find himself tossed to the ground by Svetlana less than a second later.
"I'm an apex predator, food." Svetlana replied coldly. "Treat me with respect I am due."
"That thing, as you called her, is a respected member of the Garrison." Zell answered in an annoyed tone. "You would do well to learn from her."
"Miss Svetlana, what was that language you were screaming out in the foyer earlier?" The hooded Centurion asked.
"That was my native tongue, Rus." Svetlana answered, holding her hands behind her back and standing up straightly. "All knowledge of it has been strictly forbidden by our leaders. I will not teach you it. No rusalki will."
"Are rusalki spirits?" The hooded woman asked again.
"No. We born, live, and die just like rest of you. I was born in Sunken Depths like most of my race. I have question for you in turn. Who are you?" Svetlana asked, staring at the hooded Centurion but not moving.
"I am Centurion Herydark." The woman answered as she removed her hood, revealing jet black hair and pointed ears. "I'm in charge of necromantic affairs."
"Show of hands. How many of you would qualify undead?" Svetlana asked, getting an idea. She was surprised to see six people raise their hands, including Zell. "With Praetor's permission, would like demonstrate why dead should not approach Rus."
"Approved, assuming no permanent injuries." Zell replied, nodding his head.
Svetlana motioned for the area near her to be cleared, and the soldiers stepped back more. Slowly, she began to dance in a haunting motion. The candles at the edge of the room flickered for a moment, before their flames turned blue. Five of the undead soldiers but not Zell collapsed in a few seconds, and Svetlana stopped dancing. Clapping her hands, a large mirror rose from the water basin that was next to her.
"Observe." She stated, gesturing at the mirror.
Centurion Herydark gasped when she looked in the mirror. Hundreds of ghosts were crowding around Svetlana, all trying to break through the mirror. Svetlana calmly broke the mirror, and the five soldiers on the ground stirred.
"We are conduit for dead. If I finished that dance, you would have all crossed over and met your final death with She Who Waits. Stronger rusalki can outright command the dead. The Moonfall Prince could take your mind." Svetlana said in a musical voice. "Only the living can challenge the rus, such is the agreement with The Grey Lady."
"Why was the Praetor not affected?" A soldier asked.
"Why indeed." Svetlana said with a smirk. "Tell them."
"Oh very well." Zell said, crossing his arms. "Because I'm something far worse. They are simple undead, risen by quite plain magic. But me?" He paused, and the skin on his head disappeared in an instant, leaving just the mocking grin of his skull. "Well, I suppose you could call me Deathless."
"Deathless?" Centurion Herydark quizzed, a strange look on her face.
"He hides his death. Where it is, only he know, and as long as he never go there, he will never die." Svetlana stated. "In a way, he is our sole predator."
"Do you eat the people that you drown?" A woman asked, raising her hand.
Svetlana nodded. "Yes. A rusalki must eat flesh of sapients in order to survive. I will hunt as required while I stay here."
"We will discuss that later." Zell said in a surprisingly frosty tone.
"What we won't discuss is how I eat." Svetlana said. "We may discuss the kill. We may discuss the remains. We may not discuss the act."
The other soldiers perked up at Svetlana being clearly uncomfortable. Was this a rare glimpse into rusalki social code? Sensing an opportunity, Zell tried to press for more information.
"May we talk about... this?" Zell ventured, gesturing at Svetlana acting very stiffly regarding meals.
"I suppose." Svetlana said, narrowing her eyes briefly. "But we reconvene somewhere more comfortable for me. There is lake not far outside town, yes? You are familiar?" Svetlana asked.
"Bit generous to call that a lake." Centurion Herydark said with a scoff.
"It is still water under the sky. That is what matter." Svetlana said. "Under open sky is where rusalka belong. Not inside building."
"A nice sentiment but how will you get there?" Herydark asked.
Svetlana grinned broadly as her black hair twitched. "This is secret. Perhaps biggest secret." She pointed at the large tub of water behind her, and stepped in. "See you there." She said, submerging her entire body in the water and vanishing immediately. Herydark and Zell seemed genuinely shocked by this, and rushed over to the tub.
"What the fuck?" Herydark shouted, gesturing at the tub and Zell.
"This teaches us something valuable, Centurion." Zell said as the skin reformed on his face, which was expressionless. "She's going to inadvertently teach us many things about them. Hopefully she'll learn to speak with a bit more grace in time, too."
"What if they just speak like that in their own language, too? Felian is known to have only one verb tense, for example." Another Centurion said, speaking up.
The soldiers debated for awhile as Zell, Herydark, and several others prepared to go meet Svetlana outside town. Leaving instructions to keep the primary building on lock-down, Herydark was very amused to see Zell choosing to keep his formal robes on. For her part, the Centurion pulled the hood back over her head, hiding her ears and obscuring her face.
"You still hide your face." Zell opined as the group of six left the Garrison.
"There are those who watch." Herydark answered in Karandi. "A black haired elf, her face branded with a heretical tattoo. I was marked to be tracked. No elf would not recognise me on sight."
"You wear the uniform of a Military Order older than any existing country. One backed by the Lady in Grey herself. Who would touch you?" Zell answered back in ancient Elven.
"You ever going to retire, old man?" Herydark asked, this time in Gilnan.
"None of the Centurions are suitable, and the Praefectus Castrorum only speaks to the bones." Zell grumbled as the townsfolk gave the group a wide berth. None wanted to even be near Praetor Zell, such was his reputation and aura, and Centurion Herydark's horrific necromantic stench did little to make them feel approachable.
"You still don't trust me." Herydark stated, in a tone that sounded more sad than annoyed.
"I never will, Elora." Zell answered, using her first name for a change. "Necromancy takes your entire soul with time. It's already taken your empathy."
"I never needed it, and you don't have any either." Elora said dismissively.
"Far from it, Herydark." Zell said sadly. "If anything I feel too much."
Elora said nothing, but her tattoo briefly glowed purple in response, telling Zell everything he needed to know. She would never be suitable to lead. Though, it wasn't like he was in a hurry. His death would come when he willed it and not a day sooner. As the town gave way to grassy fields, the soldiers turned off the main road and down a smaller but still well used one.