Drown In Black

She was back at the table. The damned table, which in her mind represented more of a coffin. The damned table covered in the black tar, which she at this point gave up on getting off of herself. There was no point when she would get smeared in it again and again. Also, she's been here for quite a while, probably. If that stuff did something to her, it was too late at this point to do anything about it. And as for her hand... well, that one was kind of obvious.

At least the brute did not bind her again. Not like she would get far, if she tried to move. Her leg was properly busted now. Why did she even think it was a good idea to try to get out that way? She was not able to give that answer. The only thing she agreed with her past self on, was that it was better than waiting. What came out of it - the chance to talk with this entity again, as much as she hated that - could be called silver lining-. If she was so desperate for some sort of interaction, or actually any sort of hope.

Why was she so calm? ... Though once she asked herself that question, she realized she was starting to panic. ... But still, there was something wrong, some voice in the back of her mind, telling her something about the current situation was different that what it seemed like...

It is against your own wishes to hurt yourself.

What? Her eyebrow rose. The brute left the two alone, once it strapped some weird contraption to her broken leg. She guessed it was some sort of splint, but considering what happened to her hand, the leg would probably end as something similar. It really seemed like this being wanted her alive. And more or less intact.

"You seem quite invested in my well-being," she said, glad she could talk with her mouth again. Sure, the voice sounded terrible, courtesy of damages accrued both long ago and recently. But still, using her mind to talk was weird. ... So why was she almost fine with the one-eyed shadow using that sort of communication?

An interesting specimen. You were chosen. Your survival is preferable. ... You continue to exceed. Your life is valuable.

There was a lot that answer was quite obviously missing. But from what she could glean from those shards of information: "You actually care about me?" she asked, in disbelief she could actually reach such a conclusion, and even express them.

It took a while for the shadow to reply. Not those pauses it did between every sentence it said, but almost a stunned silence.

...A bold statement. I cannot refute your claim, but it is nonsensical.

She snickered. She actually snickered. Sure, this was a horror made real, insanely powerful and she was at its mercy, but still, it wasn't capable of everything. ... Actually, this situation was still scary. But this still helped.

"So, what do you want? I still have no idea who you are, let alone what you are. ... Those are three questions."

We are Qyrora. We claimed this land. We claimed its life. We remake it. We make it better.

So they were conquerors. Conquerors like any others. But... "How the hell you think you make anything better?! You massacre everyone, and the rest turn into fucking puppets! ... And keep me alive, for some reason," she added, no longer shouting.

It is regrettable.

"What is?" she snapped.

Your ignorance. The futile resistance of your species. You resist an advancement, the greater purpose.

"You actually believe it. Damn," she mumbled with half horror, half disbelief visible on her face.

Is something wrong?

And it still had the gall to ask that. No. This was too much. She was done. This conversation was over. "Out. Out! Now! We're done!" she shouted. She expected it would ignore her. But instead, same as when she forced herself out of the mindscape, it silently retreated. She was alone. Again. With just her thoughts and a treacherous place where she couldn't trust even a solid wall.

 

The time slowed into a crawl. Or was it running at a breakneck speed? She had no idea. There was no change in the surroundings, nothing to base her idea of the flow of time on. Just the dim light in an unnervingly silent room. Or it would be unnerving, if she had been noticing it. With no way to leave, and knowing moving her leg right now would just exacerbate its condition, she was left just with her mind. Even though she remained unbound, it was made abundantly clear to her during the entire anabasis that there was no way out. So she remained still. But her mind was running. Even with the little she was allowed to learn, there was much to worry about. Though, as she pondered, she realized 'allowed' was not the right word. For some things, sure. But it was her who chased her biggest source of information out. She was not able to swallow her pride and... sensibilities? Preconceived notions? And instead lashed out the moment she could've learned the most. There was no sense in remorse though. She was almost sure it would come back. It was curious. And unlike most of those beings she met, it was thinking. It wasn't a puppet or a mindless beast.

She didn't know how many of these, probably commanders, the Qyrora had, but it seemed the bulk of their army was dependent on the orders from above. In a way, much easier to command that the army she served in. She was well aware of the issues her commanders faced, even if she wasn't a common source of them. On the other hand... the freedom to act was missing. This sort of army was hard pressed to adapt... But considering the overwhelming force they had at their disposal, it didn't matter that much. Beating the enemy up just with your hats was a viable strategy after all. Drown them in numbers. And it seemed that in this case, most losses were irrelevant. They could use the dead, both their own and of the enemy. ... Being strengthened by what their enemy had thrown at them was simply unfair.

 

She was right. The eye was back. At one point, she was still alone, contemplating the ability of these beings to build things with the visible level of metalworking. The next, it was staring at her from the other side of the room.

"You're back," she noted dispassionately.

It is time to talk again.

"Don't sound so authoritative, and maybe it is," she replied, fairly sure she wouldn't make it go away.

Authoritative?

Oh, a question. Also, there was so much this entity did not understand. She was almost willing to try and teach it. Although it seemed like a nigh impossible task, if it allowed her to establish some rapport with her jailer, it could be worth it. Not like there was much else to do. Wait for her leg to heal? And what then. They were confident enough to keep her unbound, and she had seen the door. There was no easy way out. Negotiation, as weird as it would get, sounded like the better choice.

"You talk as if what you say is what will happen. That may be true with those puppets of yours. But I'm no puppet. ... We both want some information, knowledge, from each other. In that sense, I'm not your subordinate, we are equal. That's why I'm saying you should stop with the authoritative speech."

It was silent for quite a while, before it spoke.

There is some truth to your argument. I shall try.

"Still, the first question is mine. Who are you? Not your species. I've already heard that from you. No, who are you, you as a person."

I am the fourth Tarika of this congregation. Or in your terms, one of the lieutenants of this army. It was me who ordered your capture, but I'm sure you've noticed.

"But you still did not give me your name?" raised she an eyebrow. Yet, she was already suspecting a reason. And she was promptly proven right.

A name? I have already told you. I am the fourth Tarika.

She shook her head: "That is not a name. That is a title. ... I'm guessing you have nothing like personal names? A name that describes you and only you? ... And no, a serial number alongside a title of some sort is not the answer," she added quickly, lest the shadow in front of her wanted to double down on the reply.

...It is not necessary. This distinction is sufficient.

Once again, she suppressed the urge to sigh: "Are you sure? You are you, no? At the very least, I'm quite confident your order of capturing me was your own choice. You acted on your own urges. You expressed yourself. ... Think about it," she pointedly looked at the being's only eye, trying to convey the seriousness of the message. Only after a while she added: "Also, I have to have some way to address you. ... Now. Your turn."

My turn? ... Right. I still have to fully comprehend your speech... How did you survive the ambush?

"Is that the reason you captured me? It seemed to me you were after something more. Especially after I woke up."

At first.

Surprised it answered, she nevertheless continued: "As I'm sure you know, I'm a mage. Because of that, I was stationed at the centre of our formation. The first attack of yours was very effective. You cut off both our escape path and the way forward. But a force large enough won't fold instantly. No matter how large force you throw at it. So I survived that. And a city is a labyrinth. I don't have much desire to die, so I used the buildings to get away."

You seem fine with divulging quite a lot, the Tarika pointed out, its eye staring intently at her, as if trying to glean something. She just shrugged: "Nothing you wouldn't know. And I'm no officer. There's no secrets for me to divulge. Only bits and pieces of knowledge."

Still, you fought better than most. We have minimum records of your people fighting back like that.

"It would be harder otherwise?" she smugly asked, before adding: "Also, I doubt you have met any regular army. This was an expeditionary force."

Interesting... Interesting, it said again, but after a pause, as if it was considering something else already.

"Oh. I told you something I shouldn't have."

You have no need to worry about it.

This did not calm her at all. Instead, her thoughts began to run wild. What was it she said? There was something she should've kept from an enemy. They saw her fight. They saw others fight. It was obvious how good they fared. Not that. Nothing new there. Main army. Stronger force. More mages... Oh, shit. That was it. They knew nothing about the structure of local military. It was quite obvious they were from somewhere else. And this somewhere might even be from another world entirely. She told them about this fight being with an expeditionary force. Was it valuable? Or was it just a test by this nightmare. How much she talks. How easy is she to beguile. Or... even worse. She remembered the cursed ichor. The damn liquid she was lying in even now. Which she saw change both living and dead into the puppets of these Qyrora. Were they turning her into one as well? It told her she was stubborn. Was it about this? Was she already compromised? Would she tell them everything? Do whatever they wanted? Did she have to kill herself before she did something even worse?

But with that, she giggled. She was an absolute nobody. There was no point in dying for some useless piece of information. And further - if she died, they would just use her cadaver. Which was maybe even worse. So she would use her pointlessness. Her unimportance. She would live, and what would happen, she would welcome. The way was only forward and cowering before it was just closing her eyes before the inevitable. She had seen it once. And once again, that lesson rang true.

Her mind back under control, she searched for the one-eyed shadow. But it was gone. Once again, she was lying on the table alone. How long was she trapped in her thoughts?

 

 When the two met again, just one question was burning in her mind. How was she still alive? It must've been quite a while, but she needed no food nor water. Up till now, she somehow ignored it. There was too much on her plate, she was faced with a puzzle her curiosity had latched onto, and combined with the all-encompassing existential dread of being held by beings not of this world, she simply forgot. She didn't know how, and honestly, she saw no way to figure that out. But now the question was here. Right at the forefront of her brain, usurping it. And the Tarika was the only one who could give her the answer.

So as the shadow once again drifted into the room, propped up by its tendrils, she was for the first time the one to initiate conversation.

"How are you keeping me alive?"

Through direct feeding into your body. Similarly to how your leg is being healed.

"It's still strange I don't have to eat, or even drink."

It is perfectly natural. ...To me at least, the shadow added after a while. It seemed to her it was beginning to truly want to learn something. Not through the lens of a superior being at least. Whether that would lead to something more, a better form of understanding, she did not know. But it reinforced her belief the both of them could gain something from this - even if her position was so much worse, and she couldn't hope to leave anytime soon, if ever. But that was a thought for later. She had no good plan and a lot to do right now.

"I suppose it was the same with my hand?"

Indeed. Also, if you will it, your hand can once again become functional.

"Seriously?!" she almost shouted, but managed to rein the surprise in, "...But it would be done with this black stuff of yours, right? ... No, don't answer that. You wanted something. Ask."

I have thought about our last conversation... Not the part where you did not react at all. We should talk about that as well, but not now. What does a name means for you? A personal name is mostly foreign to the Qyrora.

"A name? ... It encompasses who I am. It is a way I claim who I am for myself. And when others use it, it means they see me, and not someone else... or just a position, a title, as your case may be."

She fell silent, summarizing her thoughts a bit, before continuing: "But that is just a part of it. One that, honestly, has more to do with me and my situation. But what certainly universal is, is the descriptive function. There are many ways a name can be gained. Some are given, some are chosen, some are earned. They tell about the person that holds them. And for that, they are unique... Well, sure, names are reused, so you can find two people with the same name. But it is still much more individual than what you have. ... A name is a way to express yourself. And much easier to use as a description that rattling off a list of the traits of that particular person."

You said a lot of things I did not think of. It is fascinating. There are many areas where the Qyrora are beyond your knowledge and skill. But it is still possible to find something unknown to us. ... Admitting this is something I never thought I would do. I shall learn as much as I can from you. Not some strategic information, that would be pointless. So, once again, you do not have to worry.

"Is that really something you should be doing? Don't you have some orders?" she raised an eyebrow. At this moment, it seemed much more reasonable, and while she had no way of reading its emotions - if it had any - she guessed it was curious. Its monotone voice did not change one bit. But it talked more, in longer sentences, and described more than just intent. She would call it a progress, but where it would lead remained to be seen.

Its next words caught her somewhat off-guard.

As such, in the spirit of this experiment, I shall ask you to call me Orineth.

"Oh. Okay, Orineth. I'm Sanja, nice to meet you... though I suppose nice isn't the right word, damn the saying."

...Nice to meet you?

"A saying said when you meet someone new," replied she, annoyed she slipped up, said those words, and now had to explain it. She wanted to add something else, but then she saw a sight that made her hair stand on end. The shadow that was Orineth no longer had just one eye. In some moment of her not paying enough attention, a second one winked into existence. Now, she was looking into a pair of eldritch eyes, still with their undecipherable colour, but unlike the singular eye before, now it reminded her so much more of looking at some person's eyes. The shadow was changing, and she was not sure it was entirely natural for it to do that... or whether it was the result of the Tarika gaining a name.