Answers
Picture Credit
(Made with Canva) [Note that “Mark Rogues” was an old pen name of mine”]
Garrun couldn’t sleep that night. His mind was plagued by an indelible horde of questions. Questions about the Whisper, about his mother, about his father, and – increasingly – about the Aged Elder.
Sleep eventually came to him – and was accompanied by the Whisper’s visions.
First, as ever, came the words: Garrun…Garrun…Garrun…
Then Garrun saw the Whisper himself, stood on what looked to be a platform of purple light. The stars gleamed behind him, shining from the vast canvas of space.
The Whisper appeared to him now as a great tentacled beast, a giant, furry octopus with ten yellow eyes and what looked like hundreds of meaty tentacles, each floating gently as if in water. Garrun stood before him on the platform of purple light, a fraction of the Whisper’s gargantuan size.
‘Garrun, the time is close,’ the Whisper hissed in its icy rasp.
Garrun frowned. ‘The time for what? Tell me! What do you want with me?’
The Whisper exhaled, letting loose a howling wind which chilled Garrun to his bones. ‘I will answer some of your questions, young one, but others must be left for now.’
‘Why did you make the Orr’uns slaves to the Vorion Imperium?’
‘That question is easy enough to answer,’ said the Whisper. ‘The Orr’uns’ subjugation to the Vorions served twofold: first, as penance for placing their faith in weak rulers, in allowing the elders to lead them to ruin; and second, as a test for their future ruler, one who I hope has what it takes to guide them to great glory.’
‘And who is this ruler?’ Garrun asked, quickly.
‘I cannot answer that just yet,’ the Whisper replied, stroking a tentacle over the platform of purple light. ‘Not until I am sure.’ It paused, fixing each of its ten yellow eyes on Garrun; the Orr’un shivered. ‘One more question,’ the beast continued. ‘Of the questions in your mind, there is only one more I can answer.’
Garrun nodded, thinking, mind flicking through what felt like an endless list of questions. At last, he settled on a question he felt sure the Whisper would answer. ‘Those visions the previous night – why did you show them to me?’
‘Because you needed to see them,’ it answered. ‘You needed to see in those visions last night and in Volh’gaag’s words today the truth of what happened to your mother and father. The elders betrayed you. Your mother was innocent.’
Garrun frowned, eyeing the beast carefully. ‘There’s more to it than that, isn’t there? I can feel it.’
‘Yes,’ the Whisper hissed. ‘You are very perceptive. Good. Perhaps your race is not entirely doomed. Those visions last night, you needed to see that it wasn’t your mother’s Mer heritage which killed your father. That’s what your father’s family has led you to believe, and it is false. Not all Mer are like Xal the Traitor,
‘Your mother’s Mer heritage is your Mer heritage – and you must embrace it. Your mother had the Mer’s ability to control water, an ability which she has passed to you, even if you do not know it. You must embrace this ability – not shy away from it.’
The Whisper waved a furry tentacle, and suddenly the platform of purple light and the stars disappeared. Garrun’s eyes widened as he found himself deep underwater, the Whisper registering as little more than a murky shape in the gloom of the water’s depths. At first, he went into a blind panic, scrabbling at the water, drowning – before he realised he was not, in fact, drowning, but breathing as normal.
‘Do not panic,’ came the Whisper’s booming voice through the shadows. ‘I have put a protective bubble around you to ensure you won’t drown.’
‘Where are we? Why am I here?’
‘We are on the Cosmic Plane, as we were before,’ the Whisper answered. ‘Only now, I have spawned us in a body of endless water. As for why we are in this body of water, well, I will be teaching you the basics of Mer magic. From there, you must figure out the Path yourself.’ It paused. ‘Now, close your eyes. Feel the water’s energy, flowing through you, flowing around you. Feel.’
Garrun frowned at the murky shape that was the Whisper. He didn’t especially want to learn the basics of this magic – regardless of what the Whisper said, he would never trust his Mer heritage.
‘Let go of your consciousness and feel…’
Against his better judgement, Garrun found himself obliging the Whisper’s commands. He closed his eyes, calmed his breathing and his pounding heart, and felt. Much to his surprise, he could feel it, whatever “it” was. The waters were brimmed with it, folded beneath the waves, embedded within the heart of every molecule. It was vibrant and sparkling and bright – yet also dull and easily-missed.
‘You learn quickly,’ the Whisper remarked. ‘You have become attuned to the water. Now, open your eyes.’
Garrun opened his eyes. A gasp bubbled from his lips. The Whisper’s frame was no longer murky – in fact, it was clear as day. And, too, Garrun’s mind seemed to race, energised by whatever it was he had found amidst the seas.
‘Yes, you can see clearly now, but that is not even scratching the surface,’ said the Whisper. ‘I have removed your protective bubble; your breathing is of your own accord. And do you feel that strength, that new wave of energy which has flooded inside you? That is the water’s gift; for your patience in attuning to it, it has empowered you.’
Suddenly, Garrun found himself yearning to learn more of the Mer magic, mystified by the great power he felt dashing down his veins. But the Whisper shut this line of thought down quickly. ‘That will be all this evening, I should think,’ it declared, nonchalantly waving a tentacle. At once, the water disappeared and they found themselves on the same platform of purple light amidst the endless bounds of space.
‘There is one last thing,’ said the Whisper, in its cold and creaking voice. ‘You asked before who would be the Orr’uns’ next ruler. I have your answer now: Garrun, you must be the one to lead.’
Garrun’s eyes widened, head spinning. ‘Why me? I am no great man; I am a Commander and nothing more. I led one unit – that doesn’t mean I can lead a whole people.’
‘The Orr’uns need a strong leader, and that strong leader will be you,’ the Whisper answered.
‘But how?’ Garrun asked. ‘Where do I start?’
‘I think the Orr’uns’ penance has been sufficiently paid,’ said the Whisper. ‘You must break them from their chains, free them, and lead them. That is your final trial, to test your worthiness as leader of the Orr’uns. Now farewell…Garrun de Ki’orne…’ The Whisper’s voice hissed away, and the vision disappeared to blackness.
When Garrun awoke that next morning, he felt fresh, awakened, renewed. He was a new man now, with a new purpose: free his people and lead them to glory across the stars.
Garrun de Ki’orne, the Whisper had called him. It meant “Garrun the Wildwater”, meant to honour both his mother and father by merging their respective titles of “Ki’on” and “de Tiorne”. In the past, Garrun would have detested honouring any part of his mother; but now, after last night, he felt proud to have her title included in his name.
He smiled, looking across the other beds at the silver-skinned Orr’uns nestled in them. He knew them all: Vax…Liijak…Volh’gaag…Cayyon…Oshaaron…and so many more. These people would become his allies in his great war on the Vorion Imperium. With their help, he would resurrect the Orr’un Conquest and restore it to its former glory.
It took all his effort to stop a mad cheer erupting from his throat. Soon…soon the Orr’un shall rise again!
—
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