Title-- The Demon-God of Jubagh (book two, part one)
Rating and Warnings-- G; mild language.
Cast-- Rai Gerring, defected black magician (human man); Brandon Styhan, exiled paladin-warrior (human man); Lhafa Softstep, blind voodoo warrior (baghan woman); Arista Reenla, temperamental knight exemplar (human woman).
Previously-- Book One: Jubagh.



Arista returned to the council room on the top deck with an armful of silver-bound books and a few flaking scrolls; as the ship shuddered and began to rise through the skies of Eregged, she crouched in the middle of the round room and carefully laid down her burdens. "These are our primary texts on the world and peoples of Sivef," she said as she stood again, gesturing the three others in the room closer. "You may study these whenever you like, but they must not leave this room." She pointed to the far end of the curving walls. "There is a door to the second level, and a ladder that will roll out. We will seal these windows," she gestured to the evenly spaced portholes, "and the primary door once we leave the Source of Light and the air thins."

Brandon studied the woman with a raised brow. She'd changed into simple leathers, forsaking both ceremonial garb and her typical platemail. It struck him as odd. "Yes, milady," he muttered out of habit, then caught himself and smirked at how quickly conditioning resurfaced, even after three years. "Gonna tell us what this is all about?"

She gave him a severe look that was only softened by the wearines lining her face. For the first time, he realized that she was rather young to hold such a rank. "Yes. Sit, all of you. You can explain this to the native on your own time; I will be brief." She stepped away from the small pile of knowledge and took a seat on one of the thick cushions that sufficed as a chair.

"Have a seat, Softstep. Forward and left." Brandon paused, unsure of the word for cushion. "Soft, uh, squishy thing."

"You sit on pillows?" she replied, sounding almost amused as she found the indicated seat and folded her long limbs onto it. She was only a seat away from Arista, who gave her a somewhat disconcerted look. Amused, Rai sat on the knight's opposite side, and Brandon took up a place across from her.

Arista drew a long breath in and folded her hands in her lap. "Basics first. It will take us at least four weeks to get to Sivef, barring .. problems. Once there, you three alone will be taken by lifeboat to the surface. You will not be given supplies or weapons. I managed to procure simple clothing for you, but it is not armor."

Brandon interrupted. "Isn't clothing banned, too? Given that I'm an exile, and these two aren't s'posed to be here?"

"...yes," she replied. "But Brother Glessen proposed a work-around, and it was a solid idea. It's doubtful that the vendors will discover where the clothes went, and if they do," she shrugged, "my captain will speak to me about it."

Rai blinked. She'd broken the rules for them? This was new. "Thank you, Sister Reenla," he murmured, bowing his head when she shot him a frustrated look. He didn't look back up until she'd focused on Brandon again.

"Moving along," she continued. "I am not allowed to teach you about the culture or language of Sivef, so all you know will be learned on your own time. You will be staying in the same room, and the door will be locked while most of us sleep, but you will be able to walk through certain areas while the crew is awake. Keep in mind," she gave Rai a pointed scowl, "that the crew consists of Lightworkers, most with considerable skill and all with basic training. Trying to take over this ship would be an exercise in futility."

"We'll behave, milady," Brandon sighed. "Believe it or not, we really don't wanna kill people. I'll be happy to be dumped off on a world and get outta your blonde curls." He grinned when she shot him a sharply disapproving look. Lightworkers were taught to condone appearances, not identify someone because of it. She'd probably cropped her hair short as much to avoid getting noticed as to better fit a helm. Either way, glaring or not, he'd succeeded in drawing her attention away from Rai.

"Either Brother Glessen or I will be awake and nearby at all times when any of you are out of your room. I'd rather not see the native without one of you two to act as escort and translator, as well." Arista paused and frowned, glancing down at the books.

"Run outta unimportant things to say, milady?" Brandon asked, smirking slightly. "C'mon. I'd like to know why you guys hauled me off Jubagh and are throwing me to the swamps or deserts or whatever Sivef has."

"It is a complicated matter," she said very quietly, "and after witnessing your destruction on Jubagh, I'm not even sure you'll stay loyal to our side once you're there." Her eyes flashed and she met Brandon's gaze, face hardening. "If you betray our cause, I will personally come to kill you, Styhan. Do you understand this?"

"Enough with the doubt of my moral character and the death threats!" he snapped, glaring. "Any more insults, Arista, and I'm not going to listen so patiently while you hem and haw." He lifted a hand, "And do not tell me how to address you. I'm bound to speak to you humbly, but you're bound to tell me what the hells is going on, too. Keep your end of the courtesy and I'll keep mine."

She didn't recoil or flinch; her gaze stayed steady on his face. She was unimpressed at his outburst. "Do you remember Gregori Jazerin?"

"Jazzy?" Brandon blinked, thrown off-balance. "Yeah. He was my first captain. Why? What's this got to do with-- did someone on Sivef kill him?" He frowned.

"No. Jazerin lives. He's on Sivef." She paused, as though searching for words. "He became a Captain Exemplar shortly after you were exiled."

"Sivef isn't a Light-policed world," Brandon mused. "Unless its status changed in the past three years. Why's Jazzy there?"

"If you will stop speaking, I will explain," Arista rejoined testily. "Jazerin was relieved of his duty less than a year ago for many of the same reasons you were removed from your post. We sent him to Sivef, thinking that its level of civilization would allow him to live comfortably. Sivef is a common destination for respected former Lightworkers who were removed due to mild issues such as his." She held up a hand when Brandon started to growl a protest. "Your case was different, and I will not discuss it right now, Styhan. Be quiet and listen."

"Jazzy was the most level-headed guy I knew, though!"

She glared, then continued over him. "On Sivef, Jazerin reportedly found a handful of other exiles. They became something of a militia, aiding the local natives when natural disasters and the like struck. Recently, we have reports of their small militia growing into a volatile vigilante army. They may have been training natives or some of the few human settlers." Arista looked between Brandon and Rai. "Their method of vigilante justice reminds me of what you two did on Jubagh - slaughtering dozens on the basis of a rumor. Human traders who occasionally stop by Sivef come back with tales of theft, beatings, and overtly hostile policing by Jazerin and his men. When we sent a priest to speak with Jazerin, the priest and her paladin escort were killed and strung up in trees for the nearby natives to see."

Brandon wore a shocked expression. "The hells d'you expect me to do, Arista? Go in there and kill a man surrounded by a loyal army? A man I served under and respected?"

"No," she said quietly. "You're an exile, Styhan. You're exactly the kind of man he would want at his side, especially since he knows why you were exiled and since you two once fought together. You are to infiltrate his army, do what you must to pass as a loyal warrior, and once you've gathered sufficient information about his numbers, his reach, and - most importantly - his intentions, you'll return to us and report. We'll then decide if he is a danger to more than the local villages, and if so, we will .. remove the threat."

"...now I see why you didn't want to let Lhafa and myself accompany him," Rai murmured, looking thoughtful. "A vigilante Lightworker will not be pleased to see me, and he probably won't want anything to do with a blind woman." He glanced at Lhafa, who sat patiently, listening to them all speak in a language she did not know.

"He got exiled before I got moved to Jubagh, didn't he?" Brandon asked. "He wouldn't know where I'm coming from, but he knows I shouldn't be on Sivef."

"Some exiles get relocated," Arista pointed out calmly. "Such as when you were sent to Jubagh. You can simply say you came from wherever you were originally. You could even explain that your carnage on Jubagh caused you to be moved yet again to Sivef, where we hope the other exiles will keep you from wreaking such havoc again." She shrugged. "It would explain the mage and the native."

"You really don't care if Rai gets killed, do you?" Brandon muttered, sighing. "Don't you think he'll realize rumors have started circulating among the traders, and reports might've been made? Don't you think he'll guess? He isn't stupid, Arista."

She hadn't yet corrected him about her proper title again. "That's where you come in. It's up to you to convince him, Styhan."