The Fragment’s Refrain (part 1)
The gangplank groaned under the weight of a man who carried death in his pockets and a ghost in his chest. As Vesper stepped off the boat, his hands moved with the practiced rhythm of the Black Caste—checking the sand, the grapples, the tharlarion oil, and the whetting stones. Beside him, his girl Lyric scanned the docks with wide, wary eyes, noting the shifting barrels like a bird sensing a storm.
From a high balcony, Niamh Strömberg watched the unmarked Assassin. He was a familiar shadow from a life she thought she had outrun, a reminder of the “Crow” and the ruthless men who served him. When her mate, Portus, stepped forward to challenge the stranger’s quest, the air grew thick with the unspoken codes of Gor.
They moved to the privacy of the captain’s quarters, leaving the open air for a setting where truth could be told. There, amidst the steam of jasmine tea and the weight of old scrolls, Vesper’s calm facade began to fray. He spoke of fragments and serums—and a decade-old shard of an artifact buried near his heart that had begun to sing. As the melody of the relic pulsed against his ribs, the distance between past and present vanished, leaving Vesper caught between the man he was and the weapon he had become.
Vesper would pull out two scrolls. They were old, they were dusty, but they were all that he had that would tie his memory together…scraps…like his own memories over time. He would let the woman take a look but he would want them returned. He took the tea from his girl’s hands and wrapped his fingers around the cup and drank the subtle brew. He closed his eyes a moment and then said, “Thank you mine.” He set his cup to the side and looked at what was laid out on the table and he went cold and hot all at the same time…his hands moving swiftly under his cloak to press against the artifact shard that was suddenly very much present with him. His jade eyes clear…and the he felt the song…not heard it…felt it. “Solomon…I hear you. Please stop yelling.”
Niamh Strömberg would read the letter and would drop to the seat. “That is … He is my brother.” she stated. “I never knew of it until Mia spoke of it. She tested his dna and spoke of the resemblance.” she stated. “I was taken from Earth by the Kurri. Most likely for the knowledge I have on manipulation of dna. The ship crashed before it reached them. And from there my adventure upon this world began. I was taken to the collar of the man named Byron. Later known to be the killer Scar. Crows mentor.” she recalls. “The kurri .. They nearly found me before I met the village in which I found my mate. By his doing and that of the killer Pariah and Crow have made me remain safe.” she sighs. “I guess the shard is connected to my brother?” she asks. As if the voice within the man was recognized.
Lʏʀɪᴄ rises to her feet as her Master takes the cup of tea, but then her jaw drops, and she stares at him. Did he just… thank her? That’s just… he doesn’t DO that. She racks her memory for any precedent for this… nope, nu-uh. She also doesn’t miss the way he presses his hand against his abdomen. Chills creep up her spine and her anxiety spikes again, and she gulps silently. “Um.. you are very welcome, my Master.”
Vesper looked up from the scroll and to Niamh, “Who is your brother?” It was as if the memory of speaking to Solomon was no longer present. As if now the message had been received and the memory no longer needed to remain. He looked to his girl and growled, “Welcome? Welcome for WHAT?! You served me tea! That is your purpose!”
Niamh Strömberg smiled “Solomon. And although I have met him several times. I never knew back then he was my brother.” she shared. She would look to the girl in what seemed to be care and understanding. She wouldn’t speak on it though. That was not her place. “I so hope to meet him … but from what I have learned he has not long been spotted.” she added to the fact Solomon was her brother. “Crow worked on his escape from the Kurri. He was there when he was ill … very ill even. It was why Mia tested his blood and learned of what she later told me.”
Lʏʀɪᴄ stifles a sigh of despair… that damned artifact is messing with her Master and she hates Hates HATES that thing! All in all, it’s probably just as well he doesn’t remember thanking her, or he might slit her throat just on principle. So she clears her throat, and replies. “Yes ,my Master, I beg forgiveness for..” she breaks off.. what is she asking forgiveness for? She wings it quickly. “um… for being displeasing, my Master. I hope you enjoy your tea, my Master.” The conversation isn’t passing her by, but she’s storing it up to think about later.
Vesper shook his head, clearing it. He gathered the scrolls and put them back into the pockets on his belt. “I have met your brother.” He let his mind wander back. “He and I would walk on the banks of the marshes and he would speak to me while I was a new Killer. Then, later, I built him a house at the edge of my camp’s land for Skian Codice Compound and let him live in peace.” He would pause a moment upon the memories returning and say to his girl, “entirely displeasing, but you are absolved.”
Niamh Strömberg would hold the girl in her gaze. Conveying a silent sense of understanding. “If you found me here and now … I think it is time to continue with your quest to remove it. If Huntsy needs assistance I can offer her help. I have a medical degree and have been in practice for a long time now.” she stated. “Take those papers .. I have been told that when the shards are wrapped they are easier to carry.”
Lʏʀɪᴄ ‘s lips part in protest, as his words of absolution reference an event that happened over ten years ago, yet he speaks of it as if it was about the tea she served him just now. Resolutely she closes her mouth, but casts a look of almost desperation at the Mistress.
Vesper would take the scroll and place it into the pocket on his belt with the other scrolls and say, “Mine, there is a usually a Caste Member with a golden slash on his helm waiting near the port of most trading posts, give him this message to send to the Physician of Olni Huntsy Silverpath. “It is time. We have knowledge and the experience present in a person. It is time to be only a man and nothing more.” He then held out a coin for her to take in the way that was appropriate for a slave “And give him this for the message delivery.”
Niamh Strömberg would watch the interaction as she knew of the ways of these men. “Only a man ? I doubt any killer is truly only a man.” she reasons. “But I can imagine you long to be a tree in spring. “
Lʏʀɪᴄ listens carefully as her Master addresses her, She takes the scroll and the coin, and nods vigorously. “Yes, my Master.” she makes haste out to the harbor to see if there is one of the Messengers available.
Vesper when the slave would leave he would say, “What should I know…quickly!”
Niamh Strömberg would look up to him “You of all men should know that at times it isn’t only about what one knows but one feels. It might be good to listen when the voices stop whispering.”
Vesper would shake his head and press his fingers to where the object lay in his chest and say, “That is the problem…Niamh…I only know fragments of my life. I know moments but not all. I hear echoes of the men of my Caste and they drive me insane with their mission for our survival. I know everything and nothing all at once.”
Niamh Strömberg smiled warmly “I think many of these men will look at you in envy. How they desire to forget and not know. Too lose some of the parts of their life.” she reasons. “You are here. You are healthy for the most part. What is it that these memories will bring you ?” she shook her head “Those memories will bring you mistakes, pain, anxiousness, regret and a lot of coldness. While it is all the opposite you are looking for. Have it removed … so the whispers and voices no longer feed your mind with their wisdom. But feel what is right and trust that once you were without those voices – and taken as a trainee. A man valuable and worthy.”
Lʏʀɪᴄ returns at a run… which is pretty much her normal… and reports her success. “I found such a Messenger, my Master, and he has said he will make his way to Olni and deliver the message directly to the Mistress post haste.”
Vesper would whisper his name, “I am known as Vesper….Niamh…the evening star…the first light….and you are right. I am ready.” As his slave returned he would only say to her, “Niamh knows my name, Mine.” with the deep implications that would mean. “She is to be trusted in times of need.”
Niamh Strömberg would watch the girl report back and she would dip her head – of course not lost on the significance. She knew these names and how one tried to live up to them. She had seen more then enough to know so many. “Thank you. Killer. That says a lot.”
Lʏʀɪᴄ takes note of her Master’s words, and relegates them to memory, along with that of Mistress Huntsy. “Yes, my Master. I understand.”
Crows Murder 
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