Ketevan drove the knife deep in the masked demon's gut and twisted as its serrated edge ripped through her helmet to tear her gums and teeth. The devil spawn hissed, without a flinch or a wince it brought its hand down onto her chest at full force. Air ejected from her lungs, when they were pierced by broken ribs— she tried to scream for help, but in the twinkling of her last moments she was raised up by it to observe her home. She smiled, behind the demons that had amassed to raid, the other nations had come to their aid.
Four hundred stood against ten thousand on this day, demon. She laughed in her heart before the creature hurled her to the ground and brought its metal hoof down on her skull. She witnessed Her radiance, the maiden of snow, smiting demons with her very presence as Ketevan heard my skull cracked under the first impact. Then the demon that had brought me low evaporated with a strike of balefire. People rushed over to her, but she was letting go. The distant song of the Dreaming Star whispered to her soul, her energies from foreign realms departed as Ketevan's body dissipated in the glittering winds.
Ketevan awoke to the taste of absence in the air, no muck, blood, tar, pollution, demonic filth, black ash or corruption... it was clean. Like that of a holy city. Flourishing nature in an Elder's Garden and tinted with the distinct scent of humans. She raised her eyes to the towering structures around her, cuboid, cylindrical, some with spheres atop of some and others held air ships and mock planets. They were all made of metal, glass and other materials her mind couldn't quite name. In her extended vision, not as wide as mother's, she observed that she was in a forest of corundum structures complimented by tall trees, well-kept bushes and grass. She surmised that if her people were given time away from war, this is where they would be, and certainly beyond. The dream of sailing the sea of stars lingered in the mind of all astral observers.
Between the buildings, on the pitch black roads, vehicles small enough for personal use hurtled through the air, ran over the roads, soared high in the sky. The hum of machines filled the air along with birds and nature, the place was at total peace. When she focused her hearing, she heard languages spoken between people that sounded distinctly ordinary... distinctly human.
She rolled her shoulders and stood up, still in her armour, with her presence as obvious as a saint of war in a demon's pit. She took another gander at her surroundings to find who had summoned her to such a wondrous place where the thought of settling down to play music was feasible. No one, but a few males and females behind her who stared at her without a care for her notice, though when she turned to give them a straight stare they were frightened. Their innocent eyes had never seen conflict. Ketevan's purpose here became clear as day.
Good times breed disaster.
"Excuse me," she raised her hands, "I would like to request work and a place to stay."
They spoke in a strange garbled language with drags of their saliva in their mouths and a disgusting flap of their tongues. She spun on her heel only for her to be assaulted by a sudden blast of wind and some kind of machine-like demon that hovered above her with engines surged. It pointed projected energy, crimson javelins pointed at her.
Ketevan immediately surged her cells with mana but found no result. No spark, no connection to the source.
She took her time, kept her hands in the air in a veiled surrender until she could surmise her situation. The things that held the javelins were certainly guns, guns where she came from were particularly effective against all manner of being unprepared. Unless, however, against her kind and demons, they would have to be shot from miles away and/or charged with the correct material and sorcery, so what manner of sorcery was this creature using... the javelins had looked solar, her base deflection barriers would likely be more than enough as they were for even large embankment rounds...
"OUTSIDE OF CONTEXT THREAT DETECTED. SOURCE OF DISRUPTION LOCATED."
Perhaps a solar fuel? Ketevan was defenceless outside of her armour, if she ran she'd likely be knocked out and killed from shots to her back. How much time do I have, demon?
"I am Ketevan of another world, summoned here by forces unknown to me. Which era of common tongue do you speak?"
"W-wait one sec, Red. Let me take this one." said another voice, speaking in a decent tongue, no flapping, phlegmming or that horrendous speech from before.
"Hey there travelling elf," she said, "Give me a sec, kay?"
Kay? Ah, this may be that wind woman's home. "I understand you'd prefer if I chat like this, is that right?"
"Yeah," the voice said, "Just gimme a sec, alright?"
The floating demon creature lifted itself up into the air in silence, loomed like a metal gargoyle over a carrion plain. Ketevan tested each of her tools but only found her mother's Halefrith operational where they stored all things from memories to equipment. For safekeeping and note-taking, she copied the memories into her echo structure and decided this trip must be known to all upon her return home.
The machine descended again, this time with weapons sheathed.
The voice spoke again, "Hi, I'm Ana, nice to meet you. I'm human and you are?"
"Ketevan," she replied, "One of my cousins has the gift and curse of being called to many worlds to aid, I suppose this is my turn."
"Well, that's a lot." The voice tittered, "You must be hungry, do you eat?"
"No need for that, I must understand where I am for the inevitable battles that approach." Ketevan looked around for the source of the voice, it could be a sorcerous sound projection or maybe an aspected spell passed through genes. Or it had something to do with their technology.
A flicker of light brought the face of a woman who looked like she was a tanned resident of Reika city. Her smile was genuine, matched her young somewhat optimistic voice and she had those eyes of innocence with a hint of defiance. No war, no blood in her life, but she looked as if she'd be able to survive, winds blow in her favour. "Better, now that you can see my face, yeah?"
"Yes."
"We'll start with what's happened in the last few centuries that's significant, but only if you agree to help me out, not every day you come across and elf. Big Red here would also like to learn your history also."
Why would a machine wish to learn history? On that thread of thought, it behaved like some kind of peacekeeper, assessed me as outside of the usual. "Ana, is this machine the protector of this area?"
"More like the whole planet," she laughed, "You are aware you're on a planet not a flat plane, right?"
Good times beget disaster, "Machine Rasputin," she called to it, "Hard times breed strength, strength brings forth peace times and peaceful lands, peace and good times beget disaster. People born in these times see such thinking as foolishness."
"AGREED. BUT YOU ARE UNTRUSTWORTHY."
"One such as yourself prefers brutal truths to playful poetry." Ketevan watched the machine turn, its red lights that likely represented eyes focused on her, prospecting, understanding.
"What do you think, Big Red?" Ana turned to her machine.
"EARN TRUST."
"I'd like a place to rest, I have been awake for forty hours, and would like to read books in the language we are currently speaking over this garbled language of these people."
Ana barked a laugh, "You ain't British, but you got their accent, and the hatred for the French sure as Hell carries."
Ketevan arched an eyebrow.
"Relax, pointy ears, you're beautiful." Ana looked her up and down, "Nice look, you'll do well in getting the attention of all the playboys and pseudo romantics."
"Water please, if you do have alcohol, I would prefer single malt whisky."
"About trust," Ana continued, "How do I know that ain't just some cheap costume from the corner store?"
Ketevan took off her gauntlet and dropped it on the floor, it landed with a heavy thud and cracked the stone ground. Ana's face went from an overconfident grin to almost pale surprise.
"You ain't wearin' that in my car, sharp-ears."
"First," Ketevan stuck her hand back in her gauntlet and flexed her fingers, "How many races are there here besides human, that being, fully sentient races."
"None," she said, though that sounded like a quarter of a lie. But not hostile or hidden.
Ketevan regarded Ana carefully, "What possible threat could you be facing, do you have a history of demonic incursions, conflicts between nations?"
"That's all over a thousand-who-cares years ago, peace has never been higher. Red?"
"NO WARS LOOMING. ALL NETWORKS AND COMMUNICATIONS ARE UNDER MY OBSERVATION."
A demonic invasion that they haven't dealt with through portals then, Ketevan tapped her chin, but those javelin launchers looked formidable, all I have to do is equip myself with weapons and train a crew under a guise to be able to have warriors to spread the martial arts. But... what if this is a chance to rest and play the guitar? Ketevan pressed her finger and thumb lightly on the bridge of her nose when a slight headache began to build. She could never do the ridiculous seventy hours as her mother, Karayan or the rest of her cousins. Though, according to recent rumour, mother had been awake for three weeks without sleep or losing any effectiveness. She wondered what toll of Wintersleep would be.
"I need a place to rest for a few days, a garden, a barn, anywhere. Please." Ketevan said with less meekness than she intended.
"No problem," Ana crossed her arms, "We have a Braytech facility on the other side of Paris, I'll get you set up with a room and a tablet you can access libraries on. And would you please eat?"
"Do I look half dead?"
"Considering the blood all over your clothes, face and your sunken eyes, dried lips, bony face, yes, you look like you're permanently stuck in a haunting Halloween!"
Ketevan observed herself in a nearby window, what she said was true, but what on Laima is a Halloween?
"THIS CREATURE DOES NOT KNOW WHAT HALLOWEEN IS."
Ana rolled her eyes, "Come on girl, I'm just a projection, but we're going to get you cleaned up and well-dressed."
"I've no time for such frivolous nonsense, I appreciate you for taking me in and taking care of me. Whatever my mission is here, I will fulfil it without fail, but dressing up is for queens and princesses, I am a Shieldmaiden born and raised to defend humanity."
Ana folded her arms, "I'll have clothes suited to movement delivered to your place, alright?"
"Thank you." Ketevan inclined her head, "And thank you for accommodating my presence."
"SHOULD YOU PROVE TRUSTWORTHY AND USEFUL. I WILL HAVE YOU AID ME."
"Death to our enemies, War and Everwinter." Ketevan saluted.
Ana looked between her and the floating machine and wiped her face with her palm, "Let me guess, you'd rather walk for an hour than ride in a car?"
"Those personal vehicles you people ride in? At some point, for now, I would like to walk and familiarise myself with this city."
"Alright then, Ketty." She turned to her machine, "Get Ketty here a phone and make all the arrangements at Bray, so my dad doesn't find out we're keeping a live alien on the lodging floor."
"THERE IS A NEW HOTEL THAT HAS OPENED TEN MINUTES FROM HERE."
"Why didn't you say so sooner, Red?"
Ketevan unstrapped and pulled her gauntlet off to wipe some blood from her face, cool and still fresh. She must've been sent here in that instant between the Dreaming Star and awakening. A speedy journey, is this what they endured? Or perhaps it's different, dependent on who you are or what is chosen. She thought to herself as the woman and her robot conversed over money. Soon, men in suits flooded the place with badges raised up.
"Ana Bray," one of the men said, "This is European Interpol Jurisdiction, your interference with Rasputin's protocols for unknown life shall be noted."
"Bite me," she shrugged, "She's still here, ain't she?"
The impetuous man approached with something that resembled restraints made of metal with a power switch, "Put your hands in these, we've got some questions."
Ketevan watched them in her wide vision, each were excited but had the tremble of nerves about them with a slight jitter and a few aiming at her head instead of her centre mass. "A bit archaic for a people in peace?"
"Rules are rules," the man replied.
"What's your name?" Ketevan asked.
"Charlie," he said coolly, "And yours?"
"Rasputin," Ketevan raised her eyes to the machine, "Would you like a demonstration of why I believe we can help each other?"
"Hey—"
"IT WOULD BE APPRECIATED."
In what was a flash to Charlie, Ketevan snatched his hand restrains, struck him lightly enough to wind him, spun him around and cuffed him. "Don't shoot," Ketevan said, "Rasputin, your thoughts?"
"THE HUMAN RACE IS UNPREPARED. YOU ARE PREPARED." The machine lowered itself, "BUT YOU HAVE NOT EARNED TRUST. FOOLISH."
The men surrounded her on all sides, guns were pointed, and they called for her to surrender.
"Who are you?" Charlie grunted.
"A child of war from another world," she fiddled with his bindings, "How on Laima do you take these off?"
Charlie sighed, "Relax, this one's an idiot, but not malicious. Just one of those movie character war junkies come to life."
"Junkie?" she raised her hands.
"Addict," He spun around to one of his men so they could undo the bindings in one smooth motion, that one had drilled that into his mind and muscles. Impressive.
"That was good," she said, "You disarmed those bindings eloquently."
Charlie arched an eyebrow, as did all the men who looked at each other with a joke in their eyes, she hadn't spoken. They noticed her confusion and burst out laughing.
These people are far too relaxed. But with the impression she'd made, she is fortunate. "Very well, I surrender. I do not understand your humour."
That only made them laugh more.
Ketevan nearly smiled, such peaceful times, "What can I do to help besides prepare for war?"
"War? Don't be ridiculous." Charlie barked a laugh, "It don't make any sense for there to be any kinda war. Think about it right, resources are infinite, so what's there to fight over? Want more land, go colonise a planet and start buildin, heck, even moons can be colonised."
Fascinating, these people have attained a level of technology as such that they are capable of inhabiting astral bodies. "And what was the source of this revolution?"
"The good God Traveller."
"A God named Traveller?" Ketevan nearly laughed herself, "That's such an utterly mundane name, you must be tugging my ear."
"No," Ana said, "Guys, show her on your phones."
Telephone? If it's been reduced to simply a phone, then it must be common— The men pulled out little slabs of metal that had a flashing screen that they interacted with using their fingers. Not buttons!? Engineers are after this technology, and these people have it in abundance!
What Ketevan observed was a moving image of a pale moon with bright luminescent aurorae, massive as if a massive dam had been broken open, encapsulated a lifeless moon. One of the men used two fingers to increase the focus of the image so she could see the dead rocks were being converted to soil, rivers began to form from new underground springs. Mountains rose, valleys formed, the planet was becoming an ecosystem that could support life, trees sprung up, animals began to roam.
"That's a video from two years ago," Charlie said, "It's in the same area but ain't much to see currently."
"This is your 'god?'" She mused, "What does it want?"
"We have no idea." One of the men said.
Ketevan turned to Ana, she spoke well, seemed clever enough to have to deal with thoughts of the Traveller's purpose.
"Maybe it likes to travel between solar systems and develop planets, like a gardener from workplace to workplace." She tapped her chin thoughtfully, "What about you, Ketty, to me, it seems like you are from our stories of heroes and myth, swords and sorcery."
"When a so-called deity grants gifts freely and has taken root in the physical world, they are a demon who will bring ruin." Ketevan recorded the memories into the Halefrith.
"Alright," Charlie of Interpol said, "Just come with us, we'll get this cosplayer processed—"
"She's not cosplaying, Officer Charlie, look. Ketty, show him how strong you are."
If she lifted him, he may react badly to what he assumed was a human girl with pointy ears and strange eyes, so... she dropped her gauntlet onto the stone floor and watched little Charlie's face go ghast-white.
"What the f—"
"Understand now?" Ana Bray said, "Please let's keep this between us, I want to keep her hidden from my father."
Charlie's expression changed, "Men, forget what we saw here today. You," he turned to Ketevan, "Do as she says, her father's a piece of rat work."
She saluted, "Thank you, Charlie of Interpol." she said with a smirk.
"She funny," one of the men said, "Thierry of Interpol."
They started bickering jokingly at one another in that stupid blithering language, "What did you call them, French?"
"Yeah."
Ketevan wondered if there were a manner of war to exterminate a language beyond simple killing. Alas, they were not demons, she could stand to be alone and sleep in peace, however without wards or barriers the only trust she could place was the fact that these people were not capable of walking close to her door without her awakening. "Let's go to this hotel of yours."
"Sure," Ana waved for Ketevan to follow.
She didn't move her legs, Rasputin above moved, which made her look like some kind of mocking spirit hovering over the ground. However, instead of shock at the ghoulish sight, the people around greeted Ana fondly while asking about this Halloween. Some even claimed Ketevan was one of Bray's new pet projects to 'modify' humanity. That was unacceptable, a man made— her stomach rumbled at the scent of some kind of fried chicken with comforting Reika styled spices.
"What is that?"
"I knew you'd like Asian food, everyone likes Asian food." Ana spun and pointed to a shop on their right, "Let's go inside." She took out her phone device, Rasputin flew off, but her image was now projected through other small sources attached to buildings, metal posts that held lights and some observation technology. Ketevan had a wealth of knowledge to learn and take back home.
"Hey, Ana, you cannot eat digital, why you bring your ass here?"
These people speak like soldiers. They had a lighter tone to them than the people of Reika, some hardiness but nothing compared to the mix of gangers and soldiers who roamed the place with their love of mob duellist cultures and whatever dregs they picked up from the Gulchers. But how this man held his cooking utensils indicated he was the kind of Chef you'd find in a military unit, 'no muck shit in me kitchen' just like a drill chef.
"Ah, you bring a friend, on the house. Friend to Ana, friend to us."
"Actually... she'd like some work, and access to a library." Ana said, "Think you can help Ketty out?"
"Your full name?"
"Just Ketevan," she said, unsure if her full name carried weight in any other worlds, it was best to keep as many reserves as possible, "I'd be honoured, Master Chef."
"I always respect the English and their manners," He swung his soup spoon, "But first, you look like shit. JOHN BRING YOUR ASS HERE NOW!"
Why does he speak so differently and in this language in this country?
A shorter man with a permanent smirk that certainly looked like the Master Chef rounded a corner with a slouch.
"Is that how you show yourself to customer!?" Chef said.
"Relax dad, she's chill, hey Ana." he waved with the blush of a young man in love.
"What's up, John?"
Is there anything up besides the sky or the roof? "Stand up straight with your shoulders back," Ketevan said, "You're a man, strike order in yourself and then those around you."
Chef gestured to her with a sagely nod, "See, she is smart, Ketevan, you and I will get along fine. John, go prepare a bath and some clothes for our guest, she is friend to Ana."
"Master Chef, there's no need to pamper me I'm— I suppose it would be rude to not accept your hospitality. My mistake." she inclined her head.
"You are from where?"
Ketevan glanced at Ana.
"Well, Boss man, you're gonna have to take me on this because I really believe she's from another world."
Chef threw his head back and laughed, "Go get bathed, eat, sleep, you look like you crawled out of a Malazan book."