PART II - VOICES IN THE DARK

A ways away from the dance tent, Tazrok laid back and watched the skies overhead. He periodically would see a shooting star, and wondered, like he often did, what they might actually be. In fact, there were quite a lot of them tonight, and he kept count. Fifteen so far, although they were fairly common with it being only a couple weeks before Ohler would rise.

His brain was a little in turmoil, thinking a bit about nature. Six weeks ago, he couldn't care less about nature. Trees were trees. Streams were streams. Before coming here, none of them really had anything to do with him. Now, he was apparently a protector of nature, one might even say a nature warrior, and he wondered what that might mean for his someday future when the Demons were gone and the world had returned to normalcy. Kitty Lady Rowani had told him about ritual Druidic magic, which sounded a little interesting, but also a lot boring. Sitting and meditating and waiting for nature to do nature things did not sound at all like much fun. Maybe a nature warrior wasn't supposed to have fun? It must be that way.

In addition to being deep in thought about nature, Tazrok was also feeling a little sad tonight. Oh, he showed big smiles to everyone, and was very happy for the Little One Shaman becoming important, but inside he was sad. So sad, that he had to leave the tent and be alone for a little while, lest he make others sad with him. That wouldn't be fair to them.

He had no real good reason for being sad, honestly. Or maybe it was all a bunch of little reasons, but no big one. He was the only Ogre here, for example. It would be nice if there was another, even nicer if it was a female, if only to have someone to be around that he didn't have to worry about squashing. Even a Troll would at least be some kind of big-sized company, until it suddenly decided to leave, as Trolls often do. They were very unpredictable.

He was also sad that he had so many friends here. He wasn't sad that he had them, nor that he had so many of them. But when you combined the two things, and added in the fact that soon they would all be leaving to go to war, he knew he would soon miss his so many friends. He was sad now because he knew when that happened, he would then be even more sad. So … was he pre-sad?

Missing his mother also made him sad, and his sister with her new baby, and his big brother. He even missed the cranky lady Shaman that was essentially the chieftain of their little Ogre neighborhood in Imor, even though the Ogres no longer had chieftains. He wondered if he would ever see them again. He wondered what they might think of him now. He thought of them disapproving of him not being a Warrior, even though he was still one-threeth Warrior. Maybe they would only two-threeths disapprove, but that was little consolation and added another bit of sad.

Sitting up and looking back at the big tent, which was filled with music and laughing and people being not sad, Tazrok realized he needed to go back soon. He was expected to be there. He was the only one of his kind here, after all, and he would be missed before long. He sighed, trying to will the bits of sad away to worry about another day. To help, he lay back again, saw another shooting star, and took a deep breath, letting nature all around flow into him. He really shouldn't be sad, but he was sad all the same.

Not long later, when he had seen four more shooting stars, Tazrok heard the sound of someone approaching. He sat up and looked back, seeing Little One Callie's friend, Jesca Catkin, who was somehow both a Ranger and The Beastmother. She could talk to animals, he knew that, even better than he could in fact, and was allowed to have pets. She was also learning to change into animals, which made her a little like him. But, she was still mostly friends with the Little One Callie and Blue Pixie, and they'd not spoken, just the two of them, very much.

Perplexingly, Jesca didn't say anything, She simply sat down next to Tazrok, her tail curling tightly around her body as she hugged her legs to her chest. Tazrok was very confused, and started to say something, but then realized he did not know what to say. Jesca was simply staring off into the distance, looking over a little valley next to the camp and the heavy forest beyond. He should say something, right? Even if only 'hello'? But no, he could see on the Cheetahkin's face that now wasn't the time for hellos. Thus, he simply crossed his legs and sat next to her and stared into the distance, just as she did.

For a long while Jesca sat next to Tazrok watching over the valley below them. She knew she wanted to say something, and even had an idea of what it was she wanted to say, but she didn't know how to start. She could tell the big Ogre next to her was very confused as to why she was here, and was trying very hard to be polite and not interrupt the moment.

"Do you ever feel like you're out of control?" Jesca finally asked. She didn't turn her head to look at Tazrok, just continued to look out over the moonlit world before them. "Feel like … you're being pushed to be who you aren't?"

Tazrok frowned, trying to think through the question. "Many times," he finally answered. "Army people give orders. Trainers give orders."

"No, not like that," Jesca said. "More … more like some invisible force keeps pointing you in a direction, no matter how much you try to change it. Fate maybe?"

"Fate?"

"Yes. Just like that. Fate. Something you can't run away from."

"Not sure," Tazrok said. It wasn't really an answer, but he was very confused by Jesca's question, so answered to just keep her talking in the hopes she would eventually make more sense.

"I feel that way. Every day I feel more and more like … fate … is pushing me. It frightens me."

"Why be scared?" Tazrok asked. "You are mighty Ranger and the mighty Beastmother."

Jesca chuckled at being called 'Beastmother', but decided not to try correcting him. It was close enough. "My people are calling me the Mimarnae. Do you know what that is?"

Shaking his head, Tazrok shifted his seating so he was fully facing the Cheetahkin. "Is it bad thing?"

"I honestly don't know," Jesca said slowly. She was still staring at a far off nothing. "It is said the Mimarnae was a great Beastmaster leader of the Beastkin, many hundreds of years ago, and led them to freedom. Some here think I am the Mimarnae reborn, because I'm the only Beastmaster."

Frowning, Tazrok looked back to the tent, wondering where Callie Gnome was. This might be something she should talk to Jesca about, rather than him. He didn't see her though, or any of the others close to the Catkin. "Are you?" he asked.

"The Mimarnae? Stars, I hope not."

"Why?"

"Because … if people follow me, they could get hurt. They could die. I think I would be a bad choice to lead anyone."

Tazrok had nothing to respond with, because he understood that feeling. It wasn't like sad or anger, but was something worse, worse even than worry. It was dread. He'd felt that, too. Especially when …

"Tazrok, what is Chieftain's Inspiration?" Jesca asked, looking up to him for the first time since arriving.

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"Don't know it," the big Ogre responded tersely, quickly turning his head away to look out over the valley as before, as if to firmly avoid the question.

"Please," Jesca asked. "I won't tell anyone, but you have a skill. I've felt it coming from you and Callie said that's what it is called. What is it? I need to know."

After over a minute of Tazrok saying nothing while Jesca looked up with pleading eyes, she deflated. The Ogre had always denied knowing the skill when people asked him, even to the Major and Master Trainer. She shouldn't have expected anything different, and she turned back to staring off into the distance, not sure what to do next. She felt lost.

"Sometimes hear voices," Tazrok said after another minute. "Voices inside skull."

"What do they say?"

"Scary things. Bad things."

Suddenly worried, Jesca carefully asked the next logical question. "W-What bad things? Not to hurt people, I hope."

"They say I must inspire."

"Oh," Jesca said while exhaling the relieved breath she was holding. "That's what people expect of me, too."

"Voices say more things."

"Other things like what?"

Tazrok swallowed hard, and then sighed. "Voices say I must lead others. Lead other Ogres. Lead in fight. Lead in peace, too. I try to ignore."

"Why?"

"Also would be bad leader. Voices say I can learn, but I know I will be bad."

"Why would you think that?"

"Don't like to fight. Ogres are for fight, but not me, unless I must. Voices say I must use smart words, too. Am not smart, though. Am …" He trailed off, pondering momentarily how to say what he wanted to, or maybe simply afraid to say it. "Only know dumb words, not leader words."

"But I've heard you, Tazrok. I've heard you say very good words. We all have. Remember that second day here, when you told all of us it was time to grow up? Those words were good words, and they inspired many."

Tazrok sighed. "Wasn't me. Was … voices. When must use smart words, when must inspire, voices take control. They say it is to show me how, but I do not want to learn."

"Oh," Jesca said quietly. She was trying to digest what Tazrok had said, and only bits of it were making sense. Voices? Tazrok had always been rock-steady, but if he was hearing strange voices … "Who are these voices? Do you know?"

"Ancestors," Tazrok replied simply. "Old Chieftains. Bother me for three years now." He looked down at Jesca, an odd sense of annoyance on his face. "There are no Chieftains any more, and voices keep nagging me to be new one."

"Ancestors …" Jesca whispered, her eyes going wide. She'd known since she was little that the Ogres were a somewhat spiritual people, or at least they used to be, back before they became integrated into society. It wasn't a religion so much as a reverence and deep traditional respect for elders and the spirits of the dead. Tribal Ogre Shamans were even said to be able to communicate with those ancestral spirits. Tazrok wasn't a Shaman, though. Could an Ogre Druid possibly have the same ability? Did class even matter?

The two sat in silence, both wrestling with the enormity of the burdens that fate was forcing on them. In the distance, the music had grown even louder, the cheering a little louder along with it. They both knew they should get back, but neither made any move to do so.

"I have a skill," Jesca said. "It's what almost killed me with mana drain the other day, when Lhawni saved me. It can help others fight better and improve their morale. Trainer Reynard and Master Trainer Thorn say it's a lot like Command Aura that officers use, but it only affects Beastkin. Is your Inspiration skill like that?"

"Maybe," Tazrok replied after a pause. "Voices use skill, not me. I can only watch while they control. Voices want me to learn, though. Important skill for chieftains."

"Do you know what the skill's description says? I can tell you what mine is if you want to compare."

Hesitantly, Tazrok nodded, so Jesca quickly queried her Symbiote before reciting off the lengthy description of Beastmaster's Inspiration. Even doing that was hard, somehow, as if it made it all the more real the power and responsibility the skill imparted. She got to the end and looked up to Tazrok expectantly.

"Much same, but some different. But both are skill for leader."

"I don't think I really want to be a leader, but the world seems to want to make me one, all the same," Jesca sighed.

"If you are the Mimommy, then you must lead," Tazrok said with a shrug, as if pointing out the obvious.

Jesca's rather sullen moment was broken and she couldn't help but giggle at being called the 'Mimommy'. The sly smile on Tazrok's face suggested he might have used that slightly-wrong word on purpose.

"Well, in that case, if you are being told by your ancestors that you should lead, then you must lead, too!" Jesca smirked, teasing her friend right back.

The big Ogre grunted a bit of a laugh, realizing he'd set himself up for that.

"What will you do?" Jesca asked.

"Maybe like Little One Callie says. Ignore problem. Maybe it go away," Tazrok replied with a huff. "Won't work, but can hope."

"That's what I was trying to do, too. It didn't work."

Jesca hadn't been really sure why she came over to talk to Tazrok. But after thinking about it for the last couple days, she started to realize that his so-called 'Chieftain's Inspiration' seemed like it might be similar to her Beastmaster's, which was in-turn similar to the officers' Command Aura. If that was so, she wanted to understand why he was denying he even had it, and why he behaved so differently when it took effect. Coupled with his 'stop doing that' statement, it seemed all the more important to understand, if only to give her another perspective on her own shortcomings. After hearing his explanation, Jesca found herself almost start to believe that Tazrok could have ancient chieftain spirits trying to mentor him from the beyond. She knew there hadn't been Ogre chieftains for several generations, but what if…

"We face same problem," Tazrok said. "Fate wants leaders, but we are afraid and that makes us bad choice."

"In the end, we won't have any say in the matter, though, will we?" Jesca said, sounding a little defeated. "So what should we do about it?"

"Ignore, and hope it go away?" Tazrok suggested, re-emphasizing subscribing to the Callie Archer method of problem solving.

Jesca gave Tazrok a deadpan look. In return, Tazrok shrugged, both knowing full well that, while it was an actual idea, it really wasn't the right one.

"We need to become unafraid," Tazrok said with a heavy sigh. "And maybe I don't ignore ancestors. They say I must be smart, so maybe I learn smartness. Not sure what else."

"We could talk to our trainers? Or the officers?" Jesca said with a questioning inflection.

"They think am crazy, though. Hearing voices is sign of crazy," Tazrok said as he twirled a finger around his ear to add emphasis. He was right about that. They'd need to go to the right person.

"Maugra, maybe?" Jesca suggested hesitantly. "She's really old and is a Shaman. They say Ogre Shamans can speak with spirits, right? She at least might not think you're crazy. She was an Adventurer, too, so she's seen a lot." That would at least help Tazrok, although Jesca didn't think it would do much to address her own shortcomings and self-doubts.

"Officer now, too, so know how to lead," Tazrok said, nodding in agreement with the suggestion. "Kitty Lady trainer knows animals. Maybe help you? Pre-married to Shaman Maugra, too. Work together with them? Just us four?"

Jesca considered. Both were actually Adventurers in the past, and were now officers, so they knew Command Aura. They were also a romantic couple, outside of just Midsummer, so might be willing to keep things between the two of them, at least for now. Maybe if Tazrok also stayed for the extended session, he'd have more time to learn, too. Surely they could convince Thorn to allow that.

Still, part of Jesca wasn't sure she wanted to pursue this responsibility. If she led people, they could still die following her lead, and that was what she was most afraid of. She looked up at Tazrok, and suddenly realized that knowing he had the same fears somehow made her feel less like a failure. Tazrok was huge and strong and imposing, and yet just as afraid as she was, and for many of the same reasons. Could they really work as one on this?

"I'm … I'm willing to face this together," Jesca said, almost before she realized what the words coming from her mouth were. Then it was too late, and they'd been said.

"Okay," Tazrok said quietly. "Together."

While knowing they both should go back to the party, the mis-matched pair didn't move. Instead they returned to gazing in silence out over the moonlit valley and forest beyond. Their minds were swirling with worry and fear, and maybe just a little anticipation of an unknown future. They'd talk to Rowani and Maugra tomorrow, and at least hear what their thoughts were.

"You will be good Beastmother," Tazrok said. "And good Mimommy."

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