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herearedragons · 3 months

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The Hanged Man (chapter 1)

Read on AO3

Notes: This fic relies on some plot points from the short story "The Reaping". If you want the full context for the fic without having to read the short story (which I do recommend, btw), see the AO3 notes or scroll to the bottom of this post.

Edér had imagined his own death way too many times.

There was the war, for one. He'd try not to think about it much, but sometimes things would happen and leave him wondering if that would be him, too.

Stabbing. Slashing. Arrows. Bolts. Broken necks, burned bodies. Slow deaths from wounds gone bad.

And besides your usual pick of deaths, there was Eothas.

Edér knew for a fact he wasn't the only one thinking about it. Lots of soldiers back then were going to sleep every night wondering if they'd just be... smitten out of existence, before they ever woke up.

Close your eyes, and the next thing you see is your god, and he goes well, Edér, you chose the wrong side, so welcome to being dead. No rebirth for you, either. Right into the void with you.

Not the most fun thought to fall asleep with.

Lately, though, it had all been the same thing. The rough, heavy noose around his neck, hands tied behind his back; the creaking of old barren branches above his head, and all of Gilded Vale staring up at him.

The funny thing was, now that he was there for real, it almost felt fake. The rope against his skin; the barrel that would soon be kicked out from under his feet; the silent grey crowd; there was a weird flatness to it all. It was all wrong, just a little off from how it appeared in his recurring dreams.

His dreams didn’t account for the rain, either.

It was just a light drizzle, but Edér had been standing under it for a while, in the same shirt and trousers he fell asleep in the night before, and by now he was soaked and chilled to the bone.

Part of him was starting to wish they’d just get it over with.

And to think that he almost got out. He should have left as soon as the bell tolled three times yesterday, instead of putting it off until next morning.

Maybe he could have tagged along with that Watcher and the twitchy elf that had been staying at the Black Hound. They were strange folks, sure, but neither of them looked too sturdy; they could have used a protector on the road.

He almost asked to come along with them. Even now, Edér wasn't sure why he didn't.

Same reason why he’d waited this long to leave, probably.

A few feet away from his improvised gallows, Urgeat the magistrate was droning on and on about the "inestimable" Lord Raedric, his care for Gilded Vale, and his love for his wife.

His wife.

When his door got kicked in first thing in the morning, guards swarming in to drag him out of bed, Edér thought it was about Eothas. He figured maybe it was also about the rebels, or because someone saw him talking to that Watcher, and that was somehow also a crime now.

He didn't think they'd say that he murdered a woman.

Lord Raedric's wife. He still didn't know all the details of it - nobody bothered to tell him, since they were all thinking he did it - but what he gathered was that she turned up dead somewhere in the village, and it was close enough to his house to make them think he was involved.

Urgeat was just getting to that part in his speech, now.

Edér had never even seen her up close.

"...spreading dissent and worship of a dead god are, of course, far from the only crimes committed by this man. When words of deception no longer satisfied his foul goals, he turned to murder, and took the life or our beloved Lady Ygrid - "

"Didn't do it."

Even from this distance, Edér could see a sour grimace form on the magistrate's face as soon as he was interrupted.

"Silence, murderer," Urgeat said.

Edér shrugged; the noose shifted uncomfortably on his shoulders.

"Just setting the facts straight," he said. "Didn't do it. Ain't ever laid a finger on her. Sure, I’ve got blood on my hands, but last I checked they were all soldiers."

Not all of those soldiers were Readcerans.

Standing on that barrel gave him a great view of the crumbling shell of the temple behind the villagers' backs - and, standing just beyond it, the house that once belonged to Osgod Rask.

They did find the corpses, eventually. Some settlers moved in, took Raedric up on his offer of land; smelled something foul in the cellar, opened it, and saw what became of the two men in the years that had passed since Edér left them there.

Those settlers didn't stay.

"So you would like us to believe," Urgeat said dryly. "However, lies will not get you out of this noose. I would advise that you save your breath."

Edér couldn't hold back a snort of laughter; not that he was trying that hard.

"Right! 'Cause I have so much breathing left to do still."

Was it his imagination, or did he hear a giggle somewhere in the crowd?

Nobody liked the magistrate. Fact was, were it him in the noose instead of Edér, they'd all be clapping and cheering.

Nobody was cheering for his hanging, at least. He’d like to believe there were some people in the square doubting that he actually did it.

The problem was that it didn’t matter.

Three tolls of the bell spelled death. Before the lady’s body turned up, it meant death for a lot of people, and probably exile for just as many; by the time Raedric was done “appeasing the gods”, Gilded Vale would have been a ghost town.

But now… Now the lord’s wife was dead, and they had one person to blame for it. And, while they were at it, they could blame him for everything else, too.

Maybe there were some folks left in Gilded Vale who didn’t want to see him hang, but they would take it if it meant that he would be the last.

Something drew his eyes back to the empty Rask house.

Daeg's ma, Lifa, had this look on her face when the bodies were found. Whenever Edér was around, she'd get that same look again, like somehow she knew.

Edér didn't regret what he did. Daeg raised a weapon against a woman and her child, which in Edér's book meant he got what was coming to him - but it didn't mean Lifa deserved to die without ever finding out what happened to her son.

Gods know he’d give a lot to find out what happened to Woden.

"Tell you what, Urgeat," Edér said. "You're gonna hang me, at least hang me for something I did."

He took a breath, preparing to confess to everything that happened with Elafa and her child and the two guards that night - and then the words never came out.

There was a figure walking through the ruins of the old temple.

"Well?" Urgeat inquired impatiently. "If you wish to add to the list of your crimes, I will not stop you, but, by the Wheel, make it quick."

The stranger was wearing a heavy black cloak with an unusually large, baggy hood. Edér couldn't see their face, but they were moving, quickly and purposefully, towards the gathering.

"I take it you have changed your mind," Urgeat said. "Very well. Let us continue - "

"Stop!"

The cloaked stranger had crossed the temple, and stopped at the foot of the tree. She was the one speaking; by the sound of it, she was a woman.

Urgeat let out a heavy, drawn-out sigh.

"Miss,” he said, "Perhaps you failed to notice that we are in the middle of an official proceeding. Whatever business you have, I am sure it can wait a minute longer."

"It cannot," she said. "By the duc's authority, I demand that you stop this execution right now."

"By the duc's - excuse me, who are you?"

In response, she simply reached up and pulled back her strange, heavy hood.

A murmur rolled through the crowd.

She was Ondra-touched. Blue skin the color of a clear sky; black eyes with no whites, two glowing dots for pupils; glowing white hair, a crescent moon-shaped growth on her forehead, and two curving horns, glowing also.

That last part explained the weird shape of her hood.

Edér had never seen this kind of godlike before, but he had heard of them.

During the war, word was that there was one of them in his division. Edér had never met the guy himself, but heard that he could fly, and that any wounds he received would heal right up. Whether the rumors about his blessings were true or not, it was impossible to say now; a few weeks in, the godlike took the brunt of a spell from a Readceran priest and died.

"Agent Selene Moonborn of Dunryd Row," said the Ondra-touched woman. "You may address me as Agent Moonborn, or Selene. Do you need to see my credentials?"

Moonborn... She sure was.

Wait - Dunryd Row?

"I would greatly appreciate that," Urgeat said, but his tone was no longer as snide as it was a moment ago. In fact, Edér was pretty sure that he heard a tinge of fear in his voice.

No wonder. If this was an actual Dunryd cipher, something serious was going on.

Selene approached the magistrate, her cloak swaying silently, and held something out to him. The drizzling rain didn't seem to bother her much.

While Urgeat was inspecting the item she handed him, she looked up over his shoulder. Her eyes met Edér's for a moment, and almost immediately moved on, taking in the rest of the hanging tree.

Was he just a part of the scenery to her, dead already?

"...Very well," Urgeat said, finally. "Welcome to Gilded Vale, Agent Moonborn. As you can see, you find us at an unfortunate hour; we have just lost our lord’s heir, and now our lady as well. Fortunately, her murderer has already been apprehended, and we are in the process of bringing him to justice."

Selene's eyes returned to the magistrate standing before her.

"That man?"

"Edér Teylecg. A troublesome individual. Eothasian."

Urgeat spat out that last word like it was a curse.

"I see," Selene said. "Unfortunately, you can't execute him."

What?

"...What?"

That was probably the first and last time he and Urgeat had ever agreed on something.

"The murder of a thayn, or a thayn's immediate family, falls under the duc's jurisdiction," Selene explained matter-of-factly. "In the absence of a representative of the duc's authority, the local authorities may investigate and persecute the crime; however, with a Dunryd Row investigator present, that is no longer the case. In other words, you can't execute this man until I have conducted a thorough investigation and determined that he is guilty; in fact, if you do hang him right now, it will be considered a crime and I will have to arrest you."

Something mesmerizing was happening. The longer she spoke, the more Urgeat seemed to shrink away from her; at no point did she raise her voice, but there was an underlying pressure to the calm, even cadence of her speech that seemed to have a nearly violent effect on the magistrate.

Even with a noose around his neck, Edér found that entertaining to watch. Judging by what he was seeing in the crowd, he wasn't the only one. Though, the villagers weren't exactly on the agent's side, either; many of them were smirking, but just as many were eyeing her with suspicion.

Urgeat made one last feeble attempt to resist:

"Lord Raedric - "

"I would be very grateful if you could arrange an audience with the lord for me," Selene said. "Tell him that a Dunryd Row agent has arrived to investigate the murder of his wife, and would like to hear his testimony. I would like to see the body, as well."

There was a long moment of silence.

"I will relay your message to His Lordship," Urgeat said, finally.

Then, the magistrate turned around. His face was even more grey and dead-looking than it usually was.

"You heard the agent," he said to the surrounding guards. "Take him down."

If Selene's appearance earned a murmur from the crowd, the sound they were making now was more like the distant rumble of thunder.

Something was happening that had never happened before, and now every mind in Gilded Vale was feverishly working on the same question: what does this mean for me?

Every mind except for Edér's, that is. He was a little busy trying to come to terms with standing on solid ground again.

Still cold, still with his hands tied, still accused of a murder he didn't commit - but, somehow, alive.

The same guard that took the noose off his neck walked him up to where Selene and the magistrate were talking.

The crowd around them was beginning to disperse. Urgeat never gave an explicit dismissal, but the guards had stepped away from the tree and started giving the rest of the villagers move-along-now looks.

Most folks got the hint, and those who didn't got pulled along by those who did.

Selene glanced at Edér again as he approached; this time her gaze lingered. It felt as though she was assessing something about him.

Eventually she nodded to herself, seemingly having reached a conclusion, and said to the guard standing beside him:

“Untie him, please.”

The man just shuffled in place awkwardly and looked at Urgeat.

"I don’t know if this is wise," the magistrate said. "He may become violent."

Only if you keep talking, Edér thought; usually this kind of thought would come right out of his mouth, but not this time.

He wasn't in a hurry to go back to the tree just yet.

"If he does, I'll protect you," Selene said.

Her voice and expression were dead serious, but she was definitely taking the piss at Urgeat here.

Edér decided that he liked her.

The guard unsheathed his sword and began to saw at the rope at Edér's wrists; meanwhile, Selene turned to him and began speaking.

"Edér Teylecg, by the duc's authority, I am placing you under arrest. No harm will come to you unless you attempt to resist or flee, or your guilt is proven."

The rope fell off.

"Noted," Edér said.

It was as if she didn't hear.

"Is there a jail in Gilded Vale?" Selene asked, turning to Urgeat again.

The magistrate smiled thinly:

"There are the lord's dungeons."

"Understood," she said. "House arrest it is, then. Please inform the vilagers that they are not to visit the suspect while the investigation is ongoing."

And, just like that, Edér’s fate was decided.

☀︎

The walk back to his house was silent.

Edér was leading the way, the agent following behind. He could barely hear her steps; a couple times he even got the urge to turn around and check that she was still there.

He didn't. Wouldn’t want to do anything that she could interpret as "trying to flee or resist"; Edér had a funny feeling that, despite not having any visible weapons and being a head shorter than him, Selene had her ways of making him regret that.

His mind was still all over the place, trying to work out what his current reality looked like.

He didn't die. He was walking the path back to his house, which, about half an hour ago, he was never going to do again.

There was a Dunryd Row cipher walking behind him. She somehow knew about the murder that happened just this morning; she couldn't have come all the way from Defiance Bay, could she?

Where did she come from?

Why did she stop the hanging?

It was fun watching her have a go at Urgeat, but, now that the magistrate was gone and Edér was alone with her, he did very much want to know what she was planning to do with him.

Now that he thought about it, he didn’t really know what a cipher could do.

There were plenty of folks who came to Gilded Vale saying they were one, and claimed all sorts of powers: some said they could see the future, some that they could read minds and souls. Most of them turned out to be a fraud, and at least a few of them ended up on the tree.

Nothing he could remember about them gave him a frame of reference for what a real Dunryd Row cipher was capable of.

Killing him, probably. Whatever else they taught their agents, Edér was pretty sure they had that part covered.

He was still thinking about that when his house came into view.

Suddenly, Selene's voice sounded behind his back:

"Stop."

He stopped.

"Is that your house?" she asked.

"...Yeah."

"Do you live alone?"

"I do."

"There's someone inside."

…Well, that wasn't right.

"It's just one person," Selene said after a moment. "We can approach. Stay behind me."

Before Edér could ask how she could tell, she walked past him and headed straight for the door.

The only option left was to follow her.

Up close, Edér could hear it too: something was happening inside. There was a heavy scraping noise, like something was being dragged across the floor.

The door gave no resistance when Selene pushed it open; the bolt got broken earlier that morning.

She stepped inside.

The room was a mess. There were drawers open; his clothes were in a heap on the floor; the tools that were supposed to hang on the walls were laid out on the big dining table.

The scraping noise was coming from the far end of the house, where a man was trying to drag a chest out of the corner.

The chest was heavy. Edér knew that, because that was where kept his Saint's War armor; his sword and shield, too.

There wasn't much left in the house worth keeping under lock and key, but his armor and weapons were two of the things he did think could be stolen.

Turns out, he was right to worry.

"Excuse us," Selene said.

The man stopped struggling with the chest and froze.

"...Who's that?"

The shadows made it hard to recognize him, but, as soon as Edér heard the voice, he knew.

"Algar, you sheepfucker! Couldn't wait 'til I was dead?"

At the sound of his voice, the man jumped and straightened up at once, turning around to look at them, white as a sheet.

Sure enough, they were looking at Algar Bramweg: reedy, thin-haired and watery-eyed. Came back from the war with burns on his face and left arm, but he came back.

He was a meek guy, but Edér used to think he was alright. Until that moment, that is.

"Edér!" Algar nearly squeaked. "Wh-what are you doing here? Aren't you - "

"Hanging on a tree?" Edér asked grimly. "Matter of fact, I was. They let me down so I could see who was in here, stealing my stuff."

"Well, I - I thought you wouldn't be needing it anymore!" Algar glanced around with the look of a cornered animal in his eyes. "...I'll put it back. I'll put it all back. I - what happened? Who is this?"

With that last question, he gestured wildly at Selene, who was just standing there the entire exchange.

"Agent Selene Moonborn, Dunryd Row," she said. "I take it you weren't in the square when I arrived. All you need to know for now is that the hanging has been postponed, and this building is now off limits. Please return everything you may have taken from here; it could be evidence."

Algar looked completely lost, now.

"...Evidence?"

"In the investigation of Lady Ygrid's murder," Selene clarified. "Like I said, this is all you need to know right now. If you're confused, ask one of your friends who were present for the hanging; I don't have time to repeat the details."

Algar looked over at him.

Edér shrugged:

"I'd do as she says, if I were you."

When Algar was done emptying his pockets, it turned out that he had picked up a couple of smaller tools, Edér’s entire whiteleaf stash, a handful of copper pands - and the book of prayers that survived year after year of purges in spite of Raedric’s efforts, safely hidden on top of one of the ceiling beams.

That last one puzzled him.

Algar didn’t just take the book - he was looking for it. There was no way for him to stumble upon it on accident.

“Alright,” Edér said, “The coins and the whiteleaf, I get. Tools, too. What did you need that for?”

Algar didn’t quite meet his eyes when he answered:

“Well, so many of those got burned or thrown away, I figured - the right folks would pay a fortune for one that’s still intact.”

So he was going to sell it. Made sense; more sense than Algar secretly being a devout Eothasian, anyhow.

Once Algar had left, Selene shut the door behind him. She regarded the broken bolt for a moment, then said:

"This will have to be fixed."

It wasn't clear whether she was talking to herself or to him.

Then, she turned around and addressed him directly:

“Please, take a seat.”

It was damn weird to be invited to sit down in his own house. Felt like an insult more than anything else; Edér had half a mind to say something about it, but thought better of it.

He pulled a chair out from the dining table and sat down.

As soon as he did, he regretted it. His body realized that he was no longer on his feet, and took it as an invitation to crash; immediately, his limbs felt heavy, and his head began to spin.

The entire morning was now catching up to him. Waking up to guards in his house; being dragged to the square; standing in the rain, counting the seconds left until his last breath.

How long had he been awake for? An hour? Felt like two entire days, at this point.

Black bones of Eothas, he’d almost -

No, wasn’t the time for that. He’d think about that later, or maybe never.

He kind of liked that second option better.

His hands were shaking just a little; probably because he was still really cold.

Edér looked up at the agent.

“Mind if I start the fire?”

“...Oh.” It was as if she’d just realized the same thing he did. “Not at all. If you want to change your clothes, I’ll wait by the door.”

Well, that was nice of her.

He took her up on that offer.

Once he’d gotten a fire going in the firepit and changed into the clothes Algar so kindly left out for him, it was much easier to believe that he was, in fact, still alive.

Algar was going to take his whiteleaf, but he’d left the pipe right where it was. Figures; he had his own.

“You smoke, agent?” Edér asked, just as she stepped back into the room.

“I don’t, but you can go ahead.”

And so they sat down at the table, the fire in the middle of the room casting their shadows onto the far wall, the smoke from his pipe rising like a sheer curtain between them.

He was at home, now, and a little more certain that he could handle whatever Selene was about to throw at him.

“Suppose I should thank you,” Edér said. “If it weren't for you showing up when you did, would have been one more corpse on that tree - and Algar would’ve been smoking my whiteleaf just about now.”

For the first time since she walked out into the square, he saw Selene’s expression become something other than a distant, observing look.

Her eyes narrowed just a little, her pupils twinkling like twin stars in the night sky; she didn’t really smile, but her face softened in a way that made him think that maybe it was her way of smiling.

“It was a close call,” she said. “I’m glad I could stop them from hanging an innocent.”

Whatever Edér expected her to say, that was not it.

He didn't think he'd feel that much relief at hearing her say it, either. Of course he didn't murder the lady; he knew that.

But how did Selene know?

"...You figure that out with your cipher powers?"

The only other option he could think of was that she killed the lady, and Edér really hoped it wasn’t that.

“Good guess,” Selene said.

Her eyes drifted away from him for a moment, like she was considering something, or hesitating.

Finally, she said:

"I'll get straight to the point: I wasn't sent here to investigate the murder of Lady Ygrid. As far as I know, no one outside of Gilded Vale even knows that she’s dead.”

It took him a moment to process what she was saying.

“...Wait, so… what’s all this for?”

Selene sighed. Something was gone from her voice and her posture now - that invisible pressure she used against Urgeat. It was as if an act had been dropped.

“I came to Gilded Vale on Dunryd Row business that had nothing to do with Lady Ygrid. I happened to arrive just as an execution was happening. I read the mind of the man about to be hanged and knew that he didn’t commit the crime he was being accused of, so… I intervened in the only way I could think of.”

…By lying to Urgeat.

Wait.

She read his mind?

So that was true about ciphers, then.

Oh gods. How much did she see? Did she know about - no, she couldn’t. She wouldn’t have helped him, had she known.

Was she listening right now?

“I’m not reading your mind right now,” Selene said.

Edér couldn’t help but laugh nervously:

“You’re not really helping your own case here. How’d you know I just thought that?”

She shrugged:

“It’s the first thought people have when they realize I can do this.”

Oh.

“...Well, alright, that’s fair.”

“Sometimes, I can’t help but overhear the thoughts of others,” Selene said. “Usually, those thoughts are surface-level and charged with intense emotion. Feelings of pain or anger, for example. In your case, you were thinking pretty loudly that you didn’t do it.”

Well, now he had to ask.

“Was I… thinking about anything else?”

Selene met his eyes, unblinking.

“You were cold. And you wanted the magistrate to shut up.”

“...That sounds about right.”

She didn’t hear about the bodies in the cellar. He must have had some unbelievable luck.

Better not waste it.

“From now on, I’ll always let you know when I’m listening to your thoughts,” Selene said. “I’m saying this because I would like us to be allies.”

She leaned forward, cutting through the protective curtain of whiteleaf smoke and bringing her face just a little closer to his. The glowing markings on her cheeks, a dot and an upturned crescent moon under each eye, stood out starkly against her skin.

“I want you to help me find the real murderer of Lady Ygrid.”

That answered the question of what she wanted from him, at least.

"Why do you think I can help?" Edér asked. "If you really did read my mind, you saw that I don’t know anything."

"About the murder, maybe, but you know Gilded Vale," Selene said. "I could use the help of a local. And, for better or worse, you're the only one in town I trust right now - seeing as you're the only one who wasn't almost an accomplice in another murder today."

"...Wait, what?"

She gave him an amused look.

"I'm talking about your murder, Edér. What do you think that hanging was?"

Well, that was a charged question, wasn't it.

He glanced over at the Eothasian book of prayers, still resting on the far end of the table. Was there even a point in trying to hide it again?

"Some folks 'round here would call it justice," he said, finally.

Selene followed his gaze to the book, gave a little nod and withdrew, putting some more distance between them again.

"I wish I could say it's not the same in Defiance Bay, but I'd be lying," she said. "Where you have Raedric, we have the Dozens. They don't have nearly as much power, and that's the best thing I can say about them."

"Seems you don't like them much."

"I don't. Like your magistrate, they like to point fingers, and make my work - finding the truth - harder."

She paused for a moment, then asked:

"You fought in the war, didn't you?"

"I did," Edér said. "On the right side, mind you. Got any doubts, you can read my mind about it."

Selene shook her head.

"I believe you. I just wanted to say - that’s another reason you’re a good ally to have. You did the right thing, even if it meant standing up to your god; that takes more than bravery."

Edér nearly choked on the puff he'd just taken from his pipe.

Gods damn. Would he ever figure out what she was about? Every time it felt like he was starting to get a beat on the conversation, she'd hit him with something else.

"Now here’s something you don't hear a lot these days," he said.

Now Selene smiled, but there wasn't an ounce of joy to it.

"I dedicated my life to digging up things others desperately want forgotten," she said. "Maybe I haven't gone to war against Ondra, but I can't imagine she's too happy with me, either. You had to go even further. I think that calls for respect, not persecution."

Edér stared at her for a moment.

"I've got to ask," he said, finally. "Are all of you Dunryd folks like this, or is it just you?"

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know. You're getting real involved in something you've got no stakes in. Sharing all kinds of opinions. Round here, that's how you end up on the tree; trust me, I know."

Something in her expression shifted; it became cold and pointed, and, for a moment, Edér was sure that he had fucked up.

"I don't like seeing people be disposed of," Selene said.

And then her expression smoothed out again.

"...Besides, solving crimes is what I do. I wasn't ordered to investigate this one, but I don't think my superiors would mind, as long as I completed my original mission as well."

Edér decided that it was probably safe to start breathing again.

"You're goddamn weird, agent," he said. "I don't know what exactly I can do, but - I think I wanna help you."

Again, that smiling-without-smiling look.

"I'm glad," Selene said.

"Well... What's our move, then?"

She regarded him for a moment.

"Take a minute to recover. Clean up, eat something," she said. "Then, we'll go see the crime scene."

Notes (spoilers for The Reaping):

In The Reaping, Edér and his ex Elafa end up killing two of Raedric's soldiers, who were threatening Elafa and her Hollowborn child. Edér hides their bodies in an abandoned house; Elafa leaves the town with her child the same night.

#pillars of eternity #edér teylecg #herearedragons writing #project: the hanged man #and so it begins #oc: watcher selene #technically my birthday is tomorrow but I'm posting this early so people can get around to actually reading it

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