《Dark Legacy Series: Vol I: The Bearer of Secrets》
Authors Note
TLDR: One million words, 3,600 pages of story. The vast majority of my reviews are on Goodreads.
Welcome to Ermaeyth, the planet of my story. At the time of this posting, three books are available on Amazon. A fourth volume with three drafts is complete, as is the first draft of the fifth volume. Between the first four volumes is one million words. Yes, you read that right. At 275 words per page, that comes out to 3,600 pages.
Eventually, all books will come to this site, for free, but it''ll require time and patience. For those who can¡¯t wait to find out what happens next, subscribe to my Patreon for earlier access, or purchase the books¡ªebook and print. That said, you''ll be able to read it all here for free when the time comes.
Why post for free? The problem with indie publishing, no matter how good you are, is obscurity. There are tens of thousands of authors and millions of books, and unless you have a huge following on YouTube, Instagram, or any other platform, breaking a visibility threshold''s nigh impossible without a lot of money. I''d rather get the story out there to be read by hundreds or thousands, than to languish in isolation, known only to the very few. If you find yourself loving my work and you want to read everything right away, I recommend purchasing the books on Amazon rather than subscribe to my Patreon or waiting.
This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Publishing Schedule:
Chapter posts will be twice a week for the first two books, then, once a week after.
Posts will be Tuesday and Friday at 1900 / 7 p.m. CST; later, it''ll be on Fridays at 7.
Anything under 1,000 words will get an additional posting with it.
My Patreon will have bonus content available: other works, sneak peeks at future projects, soon-to-be-released novellas, cut chapters, rough drafts, etc.
Content Disclaimer: This is grimdark fantasy, which by definition means: "tone, style, and setting is permeated with amoral characters, troubled protagonist, or questionable antagonists that are all particularly violent, realistic, or nightmarish." As I''ve always said, in dark worlds, characters shine all the more. Sometimes, my works will touch on real, human themes or elements¡ªBook 2 has domestic violence themes with all that it implies¡ªbut it will never cross into the threshold of modern day politics, morals, religion, or any other facet not listed here. Remember, this is fiction first and foremost. My stories include violence¡ªsome of which is graphic, language, and sex, the latter sometimes graphic, and other times summarized or implied. Tone is set somewhere between Martin''s Game of Thrones and Abercrombie''s First Law Trilogy, but with a lot more magic.
Disclaimer: The Dark Legacy series will only be available on Amazon, Patreon, or Royal Road. If you see my works on any other platform, then it is either pirated or someone using my world''s likeness to impersonate me. Please, contact me if you see anything like this.
Prologue & Chapter 1
A cacophony thrummed in her ears, the thunderclap vibrating in her chest. Spasms of pain pelted her skin. Explosions of fire belched out and engulfed her, the afterglow blistered her back. Julie arched away from the monsoon of shrapnel burrowing into her limbs.
Confusion crept through her mind like fog, ponderous and opaque. The world rocked in chaos and agony.
What the hell is going on?
The repugnant stench of burnt hair hung in the dust-filled air.
Oh my God, the old man! Where is he?
Julie rose, adrenaline coursing through her. She spied him standing vigil against the storm of anarchy, protecting her from the unseen. Another violent eruption flung them both to the ground, and she screamed his name.
¡°Judas!¡± She struggled to stand, but he held her down.
He is stronger than he looks!
His grip never faltered, clamping down on her arm like a vise. Again, she tried to rise; this time, her eyes settled on a woman. She remembered now, though vaguely¡ªthe blonde woman was with them, too. Hostile before the pandemonium, but now she stood as a watchful sentinel.
I can feel something¡what is that buzzing in my head?
Another detonation cleaved the air and threw her to the ground. The man fell on top of her, sheltering her from the fragmented rock. An earsplitting resonance tolled. Julie clamped her hands over her ears. She still couldn¡¯t see who was attacking them or why. Nothing made sense. The old man let her up, and pain lanced through her as she stood.
Shadows danced beneath her feet. Glancing up, the sky swirled in a dark smog. Ominous clouds obscured what felt like the last rays of a dying sun. A tenebrous ring descended like a sudden hush. Streetlights flickered as the darkness deepened.
Movement above drew her attention. Gargoyle statues stirred, the encasing falling away. Cement eyes crumbled to reveal blood-red orbs. The masonry shattered as one turned its head towards her, a hunter sensing prey. Animalistic screams sheared the air between razor sharp teeth. Massive, leathery wings unfolded, casting off the last of the crumbling stone to the street below. It leaped for her.
Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed the man and woman raise their hands, small wooden sticks pointing at the oncoming beast. Her heart fluttered like vibrating glass from the crackle of rushing thunder. Whatever her guardians were going to do, it was too late. She turned away, ducking behind them and covering her head.
She waited for the end.
Chapter 1
Judas Lakayre stepped back into his world, passing through the Mirror of Imaesion, a gateway between the two planets. His robes still smoldered from his encounter; rips and tears peppered his ruined clothing.
I need to change, the bleak thought entered his mind. That didn¡¯t matter now; surviving did.
His knee gave out and struck the stone floor. For once in his life, he wished the dungeon had the same lush, phthalo-blue carpet as the rest of the castle.
Daylynn Reese, with her honey-colored hair and blue eyes, tumbled ungracefully in after him. She appeared even more disheveled. Atz and Lurx¡ªthe guardians of the Mirror of Imaesion¡ªcame in on her heels and looked the nimblest out of the original quartet. A young, anemic woman with golden brown hair¡ªlike Daylynn¡¯s¡ªand delicate features lay unconscious in Judas¡¯s arms, her mass light but lifeless and unwieldy. Judas puffed a few breaths before he rearranged her in his arms. She wore different clothing than Judas and Daylynn: a shirt that clung to her body, and blue farmer trousers.
¡°I told you not to bring her back!¡± Daylynn snapped, sitting up on the floor. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t defy the will of the council!¡± She glared at the young, unconscious woman.
¡°That¡¯s your opinion, mine is of a different nature,¡± Judas retorted. When Judas made up his mind, no Underworld forces could spur him to change. ¡°You expect me to leave her to die? Would you want me to leave you to die?¡±
¡°The council will make you return her.¡± Daylynn¡¯s proclamation lacked conviction. Judas¡¯s poignant remark about leaving her to die hit home. He hadn¡¯t. The warlock had saved her life.
¡°They will try and fail!¡± he replied. ¡°She¡¯d perish if I did. She¡¯s not a book borrowed from the library; you can¡¯t return her.¡±
¡°She¡¯ll die if she stays!¡± Daylynn jabbered. ¡°No one survives. It¡¯s impossible! You¡¯ve doomed the girl because of your damn foolishness!¡±
¡°So, she was meant to die either way. At least here she has a chance!¡± Judas aimed a glance towards the two dwaven, checking their wellbeing.
¡°Why hasn¡¯t she woken?¡± Daylynn asked.
The warlock touched the girl¡¯s face, pausing. ¡°She is under my sleep-induced spell. She won¡¯t wake.¡± His eyes trained back to the tall, long-legged woman. ¡°Make your report.¡±
¡°What is that supposed to mean?¡± A dark fury sparkled in her eyes.
¡°Make your report,¡± he repeated, sidestepping an argument.
¡°No, I won¡¯t! Tell me what the hell you meant by ¡®make your report?¡¯¡± she demanded, vehement. She gritted her teeth.
¡°You know the meaning, as does everyone else, Daylynn. Do you need or want me to spell it out? Make your statement. I will be back to do mine later.¡±
¡°When?¡±
¡°When I have time!¡± he snapped, his voice echoing off the cold, damp gray stone. A flicker of chagrin crossed his features. He pushed his shoulder-length hair out of his face. ¡°Forgive me. I don¡¯t know. I need to find out how they tracked us, and more importantly, what happened to the Kothlus Trilogy. Get Kayis and inform the council.¡±
¡°It¡¯s too late. No one is up.¡±
Judas gave her an incredulous expression. ¡°The consul¡¯s awake. He¡¯ll be waiting for you, and when you tell him what I did, he¡¯ll call for a special session.¡±
¡°Your absence? What do I say about that?¡±
Judas looked down to the young woman in his arms. ¡°Tell them the truth: ¡®Exiled warlock defies council and is on the run, Consul Kayis Dathyr livid.¡¯ Should make for gripping headlines for the New Suns Times. I¡¯m sure Toddison Wynters will like that story.¡±
She nodded, gathering her robes and retreated up the spiraling stone stairs in haste.
Judas watched her disappear around the bend before turning to the two remaining individuals of the party. Both dwaven, shorter cousins of the dwandur, donned magic-imbued armor. Atz¡¯ armor gave a muffled creak as he stirred, shifting on his feet, and gleamed a shade redder in the light of torches resting in their sconces. In daylight, his plate held a vermillion hue with highlights of scarlet. Black runes were etched throughout his chest plate, pauldrons, shield, and the top side of his helm. Lurx, his partner, appeared identical except a shade of light cobalt blue with arctic blue trim.
The warlock spoke to Atz first. ¡°Go, find Meristal. I need her. She¡¯ll know how to find me.¡± The vermillion-plated dwaven faded on the spot, carrying out his orders.
Judas turned to Lurx. ¡°Stay behind and warn me if anyone comes back through or down here to check on the mirror.¡±
¡°Even if it¡¯s the council?¡±
¡°Especially if it¡¯s the council.¡±
¡°The Wcic?¡± Lurx inquired, nodding to the young woman in Judas¡¯s arms.
¡°She¡¯ll come with me.¡±
¡°To your manor? Is that wise?¡±
The warlock shook his head. ¡°No, not at all. They¡¯ll search for me there first. We¡¯re going on the run until I find out who or what is chasing us.¡±
Without another word, Judas disappeared, teleporting away.
The swirling blue mist faded, and his feet touched hard stained oak floor. He paused, holding his breath, making sure he was alone. Though the hour was late and most of the realm slept, one could never be completely sure. Satisfied, he carried the young woman deeper into the room, weaving between tables and chairs, slipping between towering bookshelves. Once out of view of windows he knelt, and with gentle ease, laid the girl on the floor. With a flourish, he pulled off his traveler¡¯s cloak and tucked it around her small form.
A light touch of his hand to her forehead assured him that she still slept, but his magic trembled a warning.
Somewhere beneath the abyss of magical currents he placed on her, she slithered out and became aware. Whether conscious of him or that she was sleeping, he couldn¡¯t say. Her mind became sharp, focused, and her push against his will was akin to pressure against his skin. Her rally came like a sudden storm¡ªa raw and unrefined energy, not something a master of his craft would project, but more like a novice unsure of a new-found power.
His hand withdrew from her forehead; his robes swished in the silence. Her concentration snapped to the sound, almost as if awake, and again she pushed, much harder this time. The assault itself startled Judas. The exertion strong, overbearing. Her potential ¡ breathtaking. While lacking the strength to break his hold, nowhere near strong enough, her aptitude came like a gust of fresh frost compared to the stale wizards of the capital¡ªRalloc¡ªfilled with wizards holding prestigious ranks and honors, a shadow of the men and women who came before. In her simple thrust, he never doubted she would surpass them with the slightest bit of training. In time, who knew where she would go or what she would achieve? He smiled to himself. As far as capability goes, if there ever was a worthy heir ¡ he let the thought die.
With half of the night spent, he¡¯d wait until dawn to move her. Judas peered out into the darkness, the large room¡¯s interior lit by magelight, small spheres of white, heatless luminance. The dim magelight launched long shadows through the large, expansive room. In the stillness, Judas stood, listening, watching, waiting.
Idly, he wondered where Daylynn was now. She would go to the consul and orate what transpired. Some things never changed.
When Kayis Dathyr found out, he¡¯d send others to track the warlock down. For a moment, he worried, not for their abilities, but who he might need to battle to keep from being apprehended. No one had the jurisdiction to stop him, not anymore. Kayis was like a dog with jaws clamped around the throat of his prey; he would never let it go. He would feel slighted and seek retribution.
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Judas sighed. The night settling around him. He wondered what made him think of this place, undoubtedly because he was here only this morning. Ironically, he figured this was the last place his enemies would search. It bought him a few hours at the very least.
His azure gaze swept the small library, flickering to the familiar table he sat at earlier that morning, writing, waiting for his court proceedings. A memory of the young librarian waltzed before his eyes like a phantom.
The librarian rounded the small table and sat across from him.
¡°Excuse me, sire,¡± the boy whispered.
Judas stopped scratching; his cool blue eyes fell on Sam¡¯s face. The boy shivered, rattled by his scrutiny. ¡°There¡¯s an Essence Transference you could¡ª¡± the boy floundered.
¡°Yes, I know,¡± he whispered back. He tried to keep his voice warm and kind, pleasant. He returned to his work.
¡°If you know about the Transference, why don¡¯t you use it?¡±
¡°Just because it can be done easier doesn¡¯t mean it should be,¡± he countered as he scratched the quill against parchment.
¡°Yes, but you¡¯ve been here all morning. Wouldn¡¯t you want to save some time?¡±
¡°Not at the moment. I¡¯ve no particular place to be, so this place is as good as any. Don¡¯t you agree?¡± Judas glanced up from his writing to the librarian before carefully setting the quill to parchment, copying again.
A thought, something close to his own, filtered through his mind. Similar to an impression, a weighted certainty, the thought-emotion rolled over him, and he knew what the librarian thought.
¡°No,¡± Judas reproved, still maintaining the quiet whisper.
¡°No, what?¡±
A calm certainty entered his voice, and he glanced back up. ¡°I¡¯m not insane.¡± Sam leaned back, wariness settled over his face.
Again, the weighted certainty crept over him, the youth reevaluating him. Many thoughts flashed through, some that called out were strong and distinct, others were weak and feeble, wrestling to discover Judas¡¯s identity, knowing the youth wouldn¡¯t drop his line of inquiry regarding the Transference.
¡°But if you know the Transference,¡± the librarian pressed, ¡°and you have nowhere else to be, would it not be wiser to spend¡ª¡±
Judas laid down his quill, his movement indolent as the stubbornness rose within and reached his eyes.
¡°I don¡¯t have anywhere else to be because later I¡¯ll be needed here, in the Kothlus Castle. Why leave only to return in a little while?¡± He distinguished a slight nod of understanding from Sam. ¡°Nowhere to be, nowhere I wish to go, because chances are, I¡¯ve already been there. After all that I¡¯ve seen and done, the library is a pleasant change of pace. Also, the Essence Transference won¡¯t work on this particular volume.¡± He picked up his quill, grabbed a new piece of parchment and began copying again. The curator waited, breath bated for a few heartbeats, hoping for an elaboration.
¡°Why won¡¯t it work?¡±
The other stopped and scrutinized him with mild shock, ¡°Don¡¯t they teach you anything in school anymore? This book is old! Perhaps ten ages old, maybe more. The Essence Transference only discovered in the last age or so. It¡¯s a new concept, one I¡¯ve often thought on and experimented with but never quite developed. I lack the time or the patience,¡± the elder said, his voice soft and distant. Sam frowned at his proclamation, but Judas saw the skepticism on his face. ¡°You don¡¯t know who I am, do you?¡± The librarian shook his head. Amusement filled the warlock¡¯s voice. ¡°You didn¡¯t pay attention in school, did you? Especially about the Wizard¡¯s War?¡±
¡°You seem familiar to me,¡± the young man spoke up before he could stop himself, ¡°but I don¡¯t recall you off the top of my head. And I haven¡¯t been in school for at least a half-score of years.¡±
¡°A half-score of years?¡± Judas smiled a gentle, patronizing grin, more to himself than at Sam. Even his tone carried a mild edge of mockery. ¡°I should seem familiar to you,¡± he tutted. ¡°The Transference works on a different thread of physics. If I were to do the Transfer to this very old volume full of knowledge and history, we would lose it forever. This volume is bound by different laws of magic than those governing the Transference. In short, I would destroy it trying to implement it. Now, would you still like me to try?¡±
Sam shook his head, dumbfounded.
¡°The thought of the Essence Transference is an intriguing one, I must admit.¡± The older man tapped his finger on the table absentmindedly, his eyes flickered to the mahogany.
¡°How so?¡±
The blue eyes slid back to the librarian. ¡°The applications for Transference are near-limitless. It could revolutionize the way we learn, for example. In theory, you could transfer the contents of a book to your mind, learning everything within a matter of minutes. While this would be excessive but necessary for education and matters of law, it wouldn¡¯t hone someone¡¯s skill with a sword. The only way to learn to fight is to practice, like the Krey in Outpost Dire. They train day in and day out no matter the weather, politics, or season. There are also limitations to it, such as the old volume.¡± Judas patted the tome affectionately.
Sam was silent for a few heartbeats before rising from his seat. ¡°Would you like some more ink?¡±
¡°Thank you, but not necessary. They¡¯re coming for me.¡± Judas began to collect his things.
A flutter of magic ushered Judas out of the recollection, his hand reaching for his wand. He pulled his essence around him, shrouding himself, dampening his presence. Whoever came into the library wouldn¡¯t know what hit them until too late.
A delicate whistling sound filtered through, accompanied by faint chimes. Judas paused, making certain of what he heard before lowering his wand. He hurried down the aisle and turned the corner, coming face to face with an effulgent ball of light.
A smile came to his face. ¡°Fiosana! What brings an elder fairy here?¡±
The fairy returned his smile. ¡°Warlock Lakayre. I came to see her, the mage you brought back.¡±
Suspicion lanced through him. ¡°How did you find out about her arrival?¡±
Fiosana gave him an admonishing look. ¡°Don¡¯t be coy, young Judas. We fairies have our ways. It¡¯s not a secret.¡±
The word ¡®secret¡¯ triggered his memories, his master coming back to the forefront of his mind.
¡°This book is for the Bearer of Secrets only, okay?¡± the gnomling instructed. The language of the wizards, Myshku, was foreign to his tongue, and he only spoke with questions or cutting and crass statements. Politeness and rules of etiquette remained a lost mystery to him. On occasion, he would use the wrong type of word when speaking. A smile came to Judas¡¯s face as he recalled his last and greatest master. ¡°You shall never glimpse the pages, but can you understand the Bearer of Secrets is not a foe? You are entrusted with a special task¡ªmy greatest pupil¡ªwill you search out the Bearer for the rest of your life? You will do this! My faith is placed correctly, yes?¡±
¡°Yes, master,¡± Judas¡¯s young voice sounded hollow in the reflection, but he endured his promise to the gnomling.
That had been the last time Judas ever saw his teacher, three ages ago, over three thousand years in the past.
I need to get his book before I set out with the girl. But it¡¯s at home. Damn!
The fairy¡¯s words quickly guided him back to the moment at hand.
¡°I have come to witness her, and you wouldn¡¯t let her out of your sight. Where is she?¡±
Judas warred with himself, between being polite and complying or standing his ground, expecting more. He decided to stand. ¡°What do you want with her?¡±
¡°That¡¯s my business.¡±
¡°Mine as well. I brought her back, I¡¯m responsible for her well-being .¡±
¡°Do you think I would harm an innocent child? She is defenseless.¡±
¡°Child? She¡¯s well over the Age of Maturity and has me to protect her.¡±
The fairy paused, her head tilting to the side. ¡°You¡¯re acquainted as to why I¡¯m here, aren¡¯t you?¡±
Judas snorted in derision. ¡°The fairy prophecy? Prophecies aren¡¯t real. Superstitious words by addled minds of wise men and women from long ago.¡±
¡°To you, perhaps. While I agree with your sentiments, this particular one is ours. Do you know the words?¡±
Judas shook his head. ¡°It wouldn¡¯t matter even if I did.¡±
¡°Would it not? How old do you think our prophecy is?¡±
¡°Very.¡±
¡°It came to pass because of you, Judas Lakayre.¡± The words gave him pause, his eyes widened. ¡°Do you not know? Your lack of awareness only further proves the truth. The first line of the prophecy dictated your actions legends before your birth.¡± She chuckled at him, serene. ¡°¡®Beyond the pall that rend the realms, one of balance shall supervene.¡¯ Don¡¯t you understand? We predicted the separation of the realms.¡±
Judas gestured over his shoulder toward the unconscious girl beyond their line of sight. ¡°She¡¯s not the first to cross over, to come back!¡±
Fiosana smiled, nodding. ¡°You¡¯re correct, but she¡¯ll be the first one to live. I shall make sure.¡±
A dark glimmer crossed the warlock¡¯s face. ¡°You mean you had the ability to save all the other Wcics that came back, and you did nothing?¡±
The fairy fluttered closer. ¡°No, just this one. I sensed her all the way from home. Her arrival called to me.¡±
Judas¡¯s initial suspicion of her arrival flared to life again. ¡°Called to you? Did you tell anyone you were coming here? Does anyone else know?¡±
¡°Other than you?¡± she shrugged.
¡°How do you propose to save her?¡±
¡°A way that only fairies can,¡± Fiosana reminded him. ¡°Let me gaze upon her, please.¡±
Judas sighed and stepped to the side, allowing her to float past him. He followed in her wake, less than three paces. The fairy landed on the floor, the light fading enough for Judas to glimpse her wings, crystalline with faint, gilded veins running throughout. Head to foot, she managed to reach nine inches tall. Tentatively, Fiosana reached out, a hand touching the girl¡¯s forehead.
¡°What¡¯s her name?¡± she inquired, an almost-whisper.
¡°Julie.¡±
She smiled. ¡°A peculiar name.¡±
¡°She could say the same of us.¡±
¡°She would if she remembered.¡± The fairy directed her gaze up to Judas before surveying the room. ¡°All this knowledge wasted until someone comes searching. A shame.¡±
Judas¡¯s eyes narrowed, but he took in the room. ¡°What?¡± he puzzled.
¡°You¡¯re a clever man, even if you are a warlock,¡± she smiled. ¡°She¡¯ll be like the rest, without awareness of the past. You¡¯ll be lucky if she can even talk. Use the Essence Transference to her mind.¡±
Judas¡¯s face fell. He sputtered. ¡°There are things in here she shouldn¡¯t be acquainted with, not yet.¡±
¡°I agree; you must be selective in what you give to her.¡±
¡°It could damage her.¡±
¡°And yet she would die without my intervention,¡± she reminded him, her tone tart.
¡°It¡¯s a gamble.¡±
¡°A gamble you started when you brought her here,¡± Fiosana reminded him.
¡°That¡ª¡± he started, but fell silent.
¡°¡ªis entirely accurate,¡± she finished. Her eyes came to rest on his, and she spoke measured words. ¡°She will fulfill the prophecy. Use the Essence Transference but keep out certain aspects, volumes of knowledge. Remove anything about magic, the Wizard¡¯s War. Let her learn from you, protect her, and present all things in an unbiased manner. You¡¯re good at that. There will be a time when we come to her. She¡¯ll be bonded to us.¡±
¡°Bonded?¡± His brows rose, a flicker of uncertainty on his face.
¡°Yes, through me. My wing.¡±
Judas understood what she meant. ¡°No, you can¡¯t! You¡¯ll die.¡±
She held up a hand, stopping him. ¡°Some chose to forget, others turned their backs, but a few of us still believe. It¡¯s my honor to do this for her and is my dying wish. If she¡¯s not the one, another will rise to take my place. Use my wing in the core of her wand, the bond will serve for all time. Keep my other wing safe, my people will return for it so I can be one of them again.¡±
Judas lips parted to speak but the fairy flared, fulgid, her head tilting to the sky, eyes closed. Serenity settled over her face, the last image Judas glimpsed before the light extinguished. Fiosana¡¯s two wings fell to the floor, spinning as if caught in an unseen current, but the fairy had vanished, perished.
Judas sighed and closed his eyes. Kneeling, he plucked the delicate wings from the floor. His gaze focused on the small, crystalline objects while his mind replayed the last few moments. The elder fairy bonded to the girl, and now she¡¯d have to accept her gift. But the fairy did impart wisdom to him before she faded from existence. He set to the task she left for him, attempting the Transference to a living person. To his knowledge, no one had tried before. Judas held reservations regarding the daunting task and the moral dilemma. He had an inkling of what Meristal would say when she found out: His actions were rash and reckless, a trait he left behind in his youth.
Desperate times and all that ¡ He needed answers. The bitterness between Judas and Daylynn notwithstanding, she witnessed their attack firsthand, and he hoped it¡¯d be enough for her to cast aside their differences. Hopefully, she¡¯d listen to reason and sway the council to help.
What in the Shades of the Underworld is keeping her? He should have heard something by now.
He cast the thoughts aside and pulled his wand out. Commanding his essence, he started the Transference.
Chapter 2: Daylynn & Chapter 3: The Kothlere Council
Chapter 2: Daylynn
Her breath came in ragged gasps as sweat gleamed over her body and smeared the polished mahogany. Her robes lay on the floor, her back against the desktop. She bit her lower lip while Kayis pleased her. Her long legs wrapped around him as moans escaped her soft, parted lips. This part of the castle was vacant. With night beginning to fall in earnest, the last of the workers had gone home. Kayis was waiting for Daylynn when she came back through the mirror.
She came back to give her report in person, as she always did with her assignments, and this time was no different. The first dozen times she reported, her lust took the blame for her promiscuous nature. Daylynn never kept away from men with power, an arousal for her. Later, she realized she was the consul¡¯s personal whore. Two problems arose: one, she received no pay for her services, and two, she liked sex. Kayis¡¯s attractiveness played a factor, but she¡¯d entertained far better-looking men in the past as their peculiar and delicate toy. To her, sex was not sacred but a tool, as well as entertainment, always enjoyed. Her un-Rallocan view was the way the world was meant to be.
Kayis¡¯s skills aside, she relished the gratification of climaxing on the desk of the most powerful person in Ralloc¡ªif not in magical power, but in titles¡ªand she only let him take her there. He tried to maneuver her to the private bed or a chair, but she preferred the desk.
He used her, and she used him, too. The way of politics. Daylynn never passed up an opportunity for pleasure.
¡°So, what else happened?¡± Kayis asked, his breath ragged between thrusts.
¡°He brought her back,¡± she confessed, a moan escaping her.
¡°What?¡± He stopped.
¡°He brought her back with us,¡± she clarified. A frown flickered across her face, wanting him to continue.
¡°What the damnable hell is he thinking?¡± He pulled away from Daylynn. She hid her displeasure and sat up.
¡°Who cares. You can tell him to send her back. And if he refuses¡¡±
¡°I can kill him on grounds of disobeying the leaders of the realm.¡± Kayis sneered. Daylynn witnessed a smile spread across his face, a smile saying the warlock¡¯s actions worked out in Kayis¡¯s favor far better than he hoped.
¡°He¡¯ll be back soon. You¡¯ll need to recall the council.¡± Her eyes tracked down to his manhood and the distance between them. She leaned forward and kissed him. ¡°You want to finish?¡±
¡°Yes, but I want to try the Forgotten Islander¡¯s way. Who knows? I might enjoy it,¡± he said. His hands touched her hips, turning her around. Daylynn suppressed a sigh and lowered her chest to the desk.
Chapter 3: The Kothlere Council
¡°So good of you to join us,¡± Poplu whispered into the consul¡¯s ear. Dathyr shut the door behind him, a hallway connecting the Council Chambers to his personal office. Tapestries of the Houses lined the walls, their rods made of precious metals and gems. The Dathyr tapestry adorned the wall beside the door he exited. The fine cloth kicked up at his sudden arrival. His hands fidgeted, fixing his sash that kept his outer robes closed. ¡°I take it the briefing was good?¡± A sly smile spread wide on Poplu¡¯s face.
Kayis regarded him, his brow frowning, lips tightening. ¡°How long have you known?¡±
¡°Please,¡± Poplu admonished him. ¡°The only woman on the council, gorgeous, ambitious.¡± He shrugged. ¡°Pity it isn¡¯t me.¡±
¡°How many others know?¡±
Vamor snorted. ¡°Everyone.¡±
Poplu moved away and took his customary seat. The consul regarded the retreating figure for a few moments before following. Normally, he¡¯d be resentful towards Poplu, but he found a staunch supporter in Vamor. The House of Dathyr and Poplu allied in regards the exiled warlock. Kayis, Poplu, and his other supporter on the council, Capraro, were enough to overturn the council on most decisions, but even the three of them didn¡¯t have enough sway to kill him outright. Others were at play, and Daylynn was never a sure vote but a swing. He hoped after her report enough of the council would realize the need to hunt down Judas Lakayre and end him.
Kayis eased into the chamber, now conscious everyone knew what transpired behind closed doors a few moments earlier. The charade Daylynn and he played, arriving separately and through different doors, was asinine. Crimson reached his cheeks before he smothered the embarrassment. He took his seat at the center of the panel, flanked by the races, both male and female. No elyfian graced their presence, the reclusive race withdrawing from wizardkind¡¯s world of political machinations. The elyves viewed wizardkind as a pretentious and barbarous society.
The double doors at the top of the chambers opened, and Daylynn wandered through, her clothes still ripped and tattered, a testament to the battle that transpired less than an hour ago. She walked down deep phthalo-blue carpets gracing the aisle between observation benches made of cypress with a gloss-black finish. Stunning curtains of a gossamer material decorated the windows while scenic tapestries hung between the windows. Black walnut paneling formed the ceiling above in the shape of a shallow cone.
Diamonds studded the public benches and aligned with the tile on the floor below the council¡¯s dais. A silver ceremonial gong imbued with enchantments sat on the council¡¯s podium, its matching hammer with a ruby head nearby. Lanterns and candle sconces of silver lined the walls. If the treasury went bankrupt, the government could sell everything in this room and still keep the domain running for another few years, perhaps half a score, and if frugal enough, a score even.
Her movements were stiff, halting as if aware everyone scrutinized her. She climbed on the dais where the council table sat and stood behind her seat.
Once everyone settled, Kayis rang the gong. The sound carried and echoed, the chambers devoid of all attendants, scribes, and aides which would normally help mute the noise. Tonight¡¯s late meeting was closed to the public due to the nature of their business and the haste in which assembled. Kayis spoke. ¡°This session is called to order. Forgive the late hour, but Madam Reese just returned from the Other Side. Given her preliminary report, I thought it warranted a special session. Madam Reese? Your report please.¡±
Daylynn cleared her throat, her hands smoothing her garments. ¡°Earlier this morning, we requested Warlock Lakayre¡¯s help regarding the Mirror of Imaesion. Once through the gateway, we followed the source of an otherworldly presence. It was not, however, the Kothlus Trilogy as we originally speculated. Well, it was, but there were two sources.¡±
¡°The Kothlus Trilogy?¡± Kayis interrupted. ¡°I don¡¯t remember that being part of this morning¡¯s meeting.¡±
¡°That¡¯s because you stormed out of here in one of your tantrums,¡± said Kellis, one of two goblins on the council. Kayis shot him a withering glance but said nothing.
¡°How did you know it was the Kothlus Trilogy?¡± Capraro inquired.
¡°All magical objects created carry the essence of their maker. Judas Lakayre made the Kothlus Trilogy, so he can sense when it¡¯s near. The befoulment trapped inside the text also gives off a unique signature. Both were suffered immediately upon arrival.¡±
¡°But that¡¯s what he said, right?¡± Poplu broke in. ¡°He says he sensed the books. He could be lying!¡±
Daylynn nodded. ¡°True, except I felt it, too.¡±
¡°What do you mean you felt it, too?¡± Sedrus queried. Sedrus, the only centaur on the council, and neutral if not a touch reserved and xenophobic.
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¡°The power was strong, vile, and clung to my insides, making me nauseous.¡±
¡°How sure are you of what you sensed?¡± Kayis asked.
Daylynn¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°I¡¯m attentive to what I perceived, an evilness.¡±
¡°Warlock Lakayre created the Kothlus Trilogy, right? If what you¡¯re saying is true, the malevolence you sensed was part of him.¡±
Poplu, sensing the direction the consul headed, added, ¡°Are you sure Warlock Lakayre didn¡¯t influence you by using his magic on you?¡±
¡°Warlock Lakayre is a self-righteous ass, but that doesn¡¯t make him evil.¡±
¡°You wouldn¡¯t know if he influenced you, would you?¡± Kayis prompted.
¡°What are you saying? I¡¯m incompetent?¡±
¡°Not at all,¡± Kayis said hastily. ¡°I¡¯m trying to ascertain the possibility he influenced you.¡±
Daylynn bristled at his remark. Her eyes narrowed, and she spoke. ¡°I¡¯d notice if he tried.¡±
¡°Please, continue,¡± Lagelm, the other goblin on the council, invited.
¡°Warlock Lakayre traced the essence to a small book shop. The young woman said the editions had already sold. A carrier picked them up before our arrival.¡± She paused, sighing. Her eyes had tracked to the consul before she spoke again. ¡°The girl noticed my robes.¡±
¡°What?¡± Capraro inquired.
¡°The girl saw through our magical projection and commented on my robes. The strength she would need to break through the shroud Warlock Lakayre placed on us is unthinkable.¡±
¡°What happened next?¡± Kayis pressed, herding her into the direction he wanted.
¡°We were attacked. The windows blew in, the shop was destroyed. The girl was unconscious until Judas revived her. We retreated, taking the girl with us. As we neared the gateway, a sheol attacked us.¡±
¡°A sheol?¡± the council asked at once, everyone except Dathyr. The sheol were wraith-like entities, an embodied mist¡ªhalf incorporeal.
She nodded. ¡°Judas killed it. He questioned it, torturing for information, and during the interrogation, the sheol died.¡±
¡°How did he kill the sheol?¡± Kellis asked.
¡°With the light from his wand.¡±
¡°Did the sheol give up any information?¡± Sedrus questioned.
¡°The Dark Lord will rise again, he was never truly gone, and the books were taken back to our side of the gateway.¡±
¡°Did he say how he managed to get there?¡± Lagelm asked. She glanced at the goblin, his eyes locked onto hers. The two stared at each other for a brief moment before the creeping feeling of ice poured down her spine. She shivered but held his gaze. His black eyes were glossy, bottomless wells of malevolence.
¡°Xilor¡¯s apprentice,¡± she whispered. Conversation broke between the members, all except Kayis. He let the murmurs carry on for a few moments before he continued the line of questioning.
¡°What happened next?¡±
¡°Warlock Lakayre picked the girl up and brought her back through the gateway with us.¡±
The consul allowed himself a small smile. He peered to his right, in the direction of his supporters, knowing they would side with him. This was his chance to rid his family of the man who disgraced them, Kayis tainted by association.
¡°Well, there you have her report. Madam Reese, please take your seat. The exiled warlock broke our laws, flaunting us with open defiance, and he must be punished.¡±
¡°I agree,¡± Poplu joined. ¡°We tried to be respectful of what he did for us in the Wizard¡¯s War, but it¡¯s now obvious he¡¯s a danger, not only to himself and us, but to that young girl he brought back.¡±
Kayis nodded. ¡°We should hunt him down and return the girl, for her benefit, of course. If he comes peacefully, we can talk options.¡±
¡°Consul?¡± Kellis broke in, his long finger held aloft. ¡°What law did Warlock Lakayre break?¡± Kayis ground his teeth in frustration at being second-guessed. The goblin continued. ¡°If you¡¯re referring to our statutes about finding anyone with magical gifts on the Other Side, it states they should be brought forward. In essence, none was broken.¡±
¡°Yes, but we decided to abandon that practice years ago because everyone died who came back!¡± Capraro countered.
¡°A practice is not legislation,¡± Lagelm clarified. ¡°We won¡¯t be hunting down the warlock today for breaking mandates or practices.¡±
¡°WE ARE THE LAW!¡± Kayis roared, whirling to face the goblin. He fought for control of his hatred because propriety demanded his composure. When he spoke again, his voice was strained, caged. ¡°The warlock is anarchy in our midst. He needs to be hunted down and stopped, and the girl will be returned because she¡¯s a descendant of the followers of Xilor and doesn¡¯t belong in Ermaeyth. We¡¯ll clear her memory, and she¡¯ll be returned tonight.¡± Kayis shot him a vehement look and continued. ¡°He defied our wishes and isn¡¯t here now. His absence is an admission of guilt.¡±
¡°That depends on your view. From where I¡¯m sitting, he¡¯s not here because he¡¯s aware you¡¯ll try to imprison him or worse,¡± Sedrus intoned, backing the goblin. To mollify the consul, he added. ¡°Believe me, I have no love for him, but even I¡¯m not so blind to acknowledge that.¡±
Kayis clinched the fist resting on his leg and counted to five before he spoke again. ¡°Madam Reese, can you please clarify what happened to the sheol?¡±
¡°He tortured and killed it,¡± came Daylynn¡¯s reluctant clarification.
¡°Murdered,¡± Kayis clarified. Half the council erupted in conversation.
¡°Murdered a sheol? Are you mad?¡±
¡°What was the creature doing on the Other Side? They¡¯re forbidden to move from their Ruins.¡±
¡°How did it even get there?¡±
¡°A sheol smuggled into the castle? Preposterous!¡±
¡°Warlock Lakayre¡¯s transgression is forgivable next to the violation of the sheol.¡±
¡°Enough!¡± Kayis slammed his fist on the table, silencing the council. ¡°For too long we have been lenient where the warlock is concerned. He¡¯s an exile!¡±
¡°And therefore not bound by our constitution,¡± Sedrus reminded everyone. The centaur shifted his feet. ¡°A decision of the council¡¯s after the Wizard¡¯s War.¡±
¡°I believe you helped craft the sentencing, Consul?¡± Lagelm alluded.
¡°Shall we call for a vote?¡± Kayis snapped.
¡°Let¡¯s,¡± Kellis agreed. ¡°To clarify, no laws have been broken. He¡¯s an exile, and the council requested his help to investigate the Mirror of Imaesion, a device of his making. So, what are we adjudicating?¡±
¡°Warlock Lakayre is a menace and must be stopped. An exile beyond our regulation with more power than most alive,¡± the consul clarified.
¡°More power than any man alive,¡± Daylynn said, her voice soft. A haunted expression came to her face.
¡°Those for hunting down the warlock?¡± Kayis queried. Vamor Poplu and Piero Capraro raised their hands along with the consul. Their eyes turned to Daylynn whose lips thinned, but her hand remained motionless. ¡°Those against?¡± Kayis¡¯s grating voice asked, the agitation evident on his face. The goblins, Kellis and Lagelm, raised their hands. Sedrus did as well. Again, all eyes turned to Daylynn, who kept her hand on the table. ¡°Your vote, Madam Reese?¡±
She glanced at the consul and further down the line towards Capraro and Poplu. They shot her venomous stares. She turned her head down the other side of the bench to the other members, not wizardkind. She sighed before she spoke. ¡°I abstain from voting. He didn¡¯t break any laws, but I agree he can be a menace at times. Judas saved my life while on the Other Side. Twice! I wouldn¡¯t be here to vote at all if not for him, so I abstain.¡±
Kayis¡¯s lips thinned fractionally but choked off any scathing remarks. A disquiet crept through the seven council members as they waited for one bold enough to speak first.
¡°Warlock Lakayre is of the impression we were followed,¡± Daylynn said at last.
¡°What?¡± Kayis snapped. ¡°What a ludicrous thought!¡±
¡°Made sense at the time,¡± Daylynn acknowledged. ¡°We called him because of the mirror¡¯s behavior. We arrived on the Other Side and were greeted by a vile essence. Someone snatched the books away before we arrived and tried to kill us by blowing up the shop. Someone with magical abilities attacked us. While escaping, a sheol delayed our return. Seems to be a strange set of coincidences.¡±
¡°The sheol cannot leave their Ruins without council permission,¡± Poplu interjected.
¡°What if they don¡¯t give a shit about our permission?¡± she snapped back.
¡°Explain,¡± the consul demanded.
¡°They¡¯d no longer fear us if they had no reason to.¡±
¡°Protection? From us? Who¡¯d be so stupid as to stand against us?¡± Capraro reasoned.
¡°Not stupid, powerful.¡±
¡°No one can defy us!¡± Kayis boasted.
¡°Except an exiled warlock,¡± Lagelm added.
¡°And a dark lord once thought vanquished,¡± Daylynn finished.
Kayis leaned forward, giving her a long look. His sneer curled out into the silence. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you believe in the warlock¡¯s paranoid nonsense. You don¡¯t really think the dark lord can return, do you?¡±
Daylynn took a deep breath and held it, unsure of how she should answer. She never believed in Judas, not truly, but he¡¯d proved himself many times over. She also realized if she answered in any manner that might sway the power of the council from Dathyr, he¡¯d take her words as a slight. Her best course to appease the consul was a diplomatic answer.
¡°I believe, after everything I¡¯ve seen, anything¡¯s possible.¡±
Chapter 4: Essence Transference
Multiple books caressed by a wispy green cloud floated in silence. Some were massive, thick tomes and others were slender, frail volumes. The leather-bound texts hovered, rising and falling as if caught in an ocean¡¯s gentle wave. The green mist coiled in a serpentine fashion from the volumes to the young woman lying on the floor. Judas, mesmerized, didn¡¯t feel the sudden arrival of Atz, the dwaven with vermillion armor, who blinked into existence behind him.
¡°I¡¯ve found her, she¡¯s coming,¡± he said in haste, without preamble.
¡°Good,¡± Judas replied. ¡°Tell the others we meet tonight.¡±
¡°Anyone in particular?¡±
¡°The usual.¡±
¡°Where?¡±
¡°Desert of the Forsaken,¡± the warlock instructed. Atz nodded and faded again, leaving the elder alone with the floating tomes of knowledge and the young girl.
He didn¡¯t know how long it would take the Transference to work and to what degree. When she rose from her slumber, would she have acquired the sudden education, or would it take time for her mind to desegregate the jumble of learned material? Only time would tell.
He carefully selected particular volumes. The warlock wanted her to know generalities of Ermaeyth and the domain she¡¯d reside in. There were too many texts covering numerous subjects to try to cram in her mind, so he used great care. Propriety, customs and culture, their language and grammar, a brief overview of history, and immediate geography were allowed. They were subjects of immediacy. Tales and histories of religion, people, and peculiar places such as the Temple of the Ghost Mists, the Abyss, Void-Knights, the Kran Empire, and witchen were unnecessary for her education and would only leave more questions than answers. She could do that on her own time.
There was the chance, of course, he¡¯d destroy her mind in the process. A slim chance, but the burden of the decision pressed on him. Judas didn¡¯t like the gamble, the conception unfavorable, but what was the alternative? With each passing moment, he wondered if the notion bothered him or the fact that it originated from the elder fairy. Qualms arose from failing to ascertain the truth.
He glanced down at the girl, standing vigil at her side while his inducement worked. Her consciousness brushed his, a sign she was aware of his presence. He thought about the events leading up to this point, wondering if he had made any wrong choices. Was Daylynn right? Should he have left her on the Other Side? He couldn¡¯t be sure. He yearned to think he¡¯d done everything right. He wished someone could tell him which direction to take. Judas never believed in people who claimed they saw the future, and he figured those who could wouldn¡¯t go around saying so.
He doubted himself, always. He used meticulous care in his selection of books, keeping out certain volumes and restricting her knowledge. Some subjects were better for him to explain than for her to acclimatize to a biased opinion. She needed to make her own decisions, and he intended her to be a blank slate, free of prejudice. Each volume was selected with this forethought. In some ways, he was no better than the authors of those volumes, choosing what to convey. His choice to keep out books about the Wizard¡¯s War might come back to haunt him, but he didn¡¯t want to traumatize her any more than necessary. He would teach her the subject himself. She¡¯d know a little, but he¡¯d fill in the rest. He battled with a decision to include or exclude any subject on magic and finally relented to one volume from the Plotus branch, a rudimentary tome at best.
He cast the uncertainty aside and returned his thoughts to recent actions and the distant past, contemplating, trying to determine if he walked the right path. If not, he¡¯d try to trace the forks of his decisions back to undo whatever damage he¡¯d done. The right choice was hard to decipher in the moment, to be certain of the correct path when facing decisions, yet simple in retrospect.
He hoped she didn¡¯t remember anything about her previous life; it¡¯d make things easier and much more complicated. Easier because she wouldn¡¯t want to return home and would accept this way of life as the only way. Complicated because he¡¯d need to teach her everything as if she was a child. Children learned quicker than the old, but she lacked that benefit. In short, a difficult task lay ahead.
He hoped his gamble paid off and the Essence Transference worked. He littered this corner of the library with vast volumes of insight but even so, she wouldn¡¯t comprehend everything, as there was so much to learn about the realm and of Ermaeyth. Magic, too. Some of the basic aspects were secreted in the leather bindings he used. Her power radiated, raw, undefined. Careful tutelage would craft her into a prosperous wizard. She may even achieve a high rank like Grand Master Wizard if she chose that path. She had options based on power alone. He would ease her into the subject.
He examined her again, but this time in a different light. She reminded him of her. He tried to block such thoughts and forget the pain forged in his heart for so long but failed. He realized, after a time, Julie was about the same age she would¡¯ve been. He buried the thought, the memories. He knelt and gently touched her forehead. Again he experienced her subconscious swirling beneath the spell-induced sleep.
Another essence called to him, one not present; familiar, yet missed due to absence, akin to seeing relatives at a family reunion, half strange, half recognizable. A smile crept over his face, intuiting who reached out to him. He stood, his head turning to the direction from which the conjury called. He crossed the room to the window and gazed out over Ralloc. From this high up on the mountain, and in the castle spire, shops and other buildings looked like small lumps of brown sugar far below. He answered the essence, gently, not giving himself away to everyone. He focused his thoughts on the woman who called to him, a discreet answer.
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He sent out his response, and he distinguished a refrain in her attempt to find him. She closed down, withdrawing from him. A tremor of presage rippled through him before she appeared. All magic gave off tale-tell signs, little vibrations. If someone was powerful enough, they could detect the effects before it happened, almost like a precognitive ability. Few possessed such insight, and Judas had to focus to perceive. Even he could be taken by surprise. Whenever the conjuring came, the more alien the essence, the more noticeable.
She manifested in the deep shadows between bookshelves, hidden by the swaddling black velvet. He stood staring at the spot, expecting her. Madam Meristal Raviils strode forward, her crimson robes with gold embroidery flapping softly with her movement. A petite woman with flaming red hair, violet eyes, and porcelain skin stepped into the light. If anyone could find a perfect woman, Judas was sure he gazed upon her now. To him, she was the epitome of beauty and elegance; he wondered how many men thought the same.
A smile flourished on his face. ¡°Welcome, Meristal.¡± They met in the middle, he bending to kiss her hand. ¡°Always a pleasure and delight to keep your company. I¡¯ve been without it for quite some time!¡±
¡°Of course, it¡¯s a pleasure to keep my company,¡± Meristal spoke, a fondness in her voice. Friends since before they entered the Wizard¡¯s War, she had a way of subtle teasing, something he came to expect. He embraced her; a soft kiss planted on her cheek, her hair tickling his nose. She returned the tight embrace, both holding on for moments longer than friends would. She let go but held his arms. ¡°We haven¡¯t spoken for quite some time, a situation changing even as we speak. I finished my tour in Mecas River City. I¡¯m back.¡± She radiated happiness.
¡°Welcome home, at least until they send you away again.¡±
She shook her head. ¡°No, I¡¯m retiring if they do.¡±
¡°You missed the hearing this morning.¡±
She gave an abashed smile. ¡°I know, and I¡¯m sorry. I am betting Consul Dathyr was behind my delay with the sudden arrival of paperwork in the eleventh hour.¡±
¡°Probably.¡±
¡°I hear they denied your citizenship again.¡±
¡°Yes, right before they asked for my help.¡±
¡°Where is she?¡±
¡°How do you know about her arrival?¡± Judas asked, suspicious. Somehow, Meristal was the second person aware of the arrival of the girl he brought back. She answered with her cryptic silence; he ushered her between the bookshelves towards Julie. Meristal gazed down at the girl wrapped up in Judas¡¯s traveling cloak. She was a simple, but pretty girl.
¡°She seems fragile, delicate, and unable to take the bump and grind of everyday life in the realm,¡± she offered.
Judas surveyed the young woman. At first appearance, the girl seemed at peace, in a deep sleep. As they neared, he noted the girl¡¯s brow knitted. Her teeth ground together.
Meristal¡¯s head tilted up, surveying the books above the girls¡¯ head near the ceiling. A green mist coiled around several publications and snaked down towards her head.
¡°She¡¯s aware of our presence,¡± came Judas¡¯s light whisper. ¡°She¡¯s fighting to wake up.¡± He shook his head. ¡°I don¡¯t know how this is possible.¡±
¡°Are we disturbing her?¡±
¡°Perhaps,¡± the warlock conceded. ¡°She¡¯s powerful; I can feel her trying so hard to fight me.¡±
¡°What are you doing with these books?¡±
¡°Essence Transference.¡±
¡°Are you crazy? You can¡¯t do that! You take a chance in destroying her mind. The Essence hasn¡¯t even been medically proven let alone tested. You¡¯re going to kill her!¡±
He turned to Meristal. ¡°Two people told me tonight I condemned her to die by bringing her here. At this point, does it matter?¡± He didn¡¯t wait for an answer. ¡°I¡¯m assuming she¡¯ll live, and I¡¯m trying to help her. If this works, there¡¯ll be little we need to teach her. She¡¯ll gain knowledge and history of the realm, all the important things about a place she has never been. She can start a life here.¡± He knelt beside the girl and glanced back up to his friend.
Meristal pondered, gazing at them, acquiescing his point with a silent nod. He knew what she was thinking. The girl could learn much, and they wouldn¡¯t need to teach her as if a child. She¡¯d be savvy, even raise her intelligence. If this worked, truly worked, he may have unwittingly discovered one of the greatest medical revelations, going a long way to combating forms of memory loss.
¡°When will you let her wake?¡± Meristal asked him, concerned.
¡°Around dawn.¡±
¡°They¡¯ll make you send her back. You know that, don¡¯t you?¡±
¡°They¡¯ll try and fail. I won¡¯t do anything I don¡¯t want to. They can¡¯t order an exile. I¡¯m outside their jurisdiction, a call they made. I do try to abide by the laws to keep some semblance of peace. Their cry for me to return her would be against the law. Now that I¡¯m thinking about it, I allow them to keep the Mirror of Imaesion, and they should be grateful. Without it, there¡¯s no portal to the Other Side. Between destroying the mirror and sending her back, guess which one I¡¯d pick?
¡°Wouldn¡¯t destroying the mirror cause the realms to collapse? You made those magical laws, and now you¡¯re an exile. Aren¡¯t they void?¡±
¡°Maybe, to answer both of your questions,¡± Judas conceded, unconcerned.
¡°The big question is: would it reverse what you did to Xilor or his followers?¡± she prodded.
Judas turned and gave her a where-are-you-going-with-this expression. ¡°Possibly.¡±
Meristal subsided, content to let the conversation end. ¡°I noticed you called for a meeting tonight. Was it about her?¡±
¡°No, something else. I think it¡¯s best we arrive separately.¡±
¡°Okay, I¡¯ll wait five minutes after you leave.¡±
Judas looked down to the girl and back to Meristal. He trusted her with his life and that of the girl. Meristal fought at his side in the Wizard¡¯s War, his companion before his exile, a friend afterward. He nodded, taking a small step back. He gathered his essence about him, it surged with his silent command, and he vanished.
Chapter 5: Desert of the Forsaken
The Desert of the Forsaken: a desolate place, hot and unforgiving. Apor, the larger, pale cerulean sun, and Praema, the smaller, brilliant amaranth globe bathed the barren wilderness in merciless heat. But darkness descended, ushering in a welcomed reprieve. The wind rustled with a gentle sigh as the temperature plummeted to near-freezing. The cracked, dried surface crumbled beneath the shifting weight of two figures standing next to each other, cloaks drawn tight around them as they hunkered over their fire.
A third figure winked into existence behind the two smaller beings. He paused and waited, wary of a potential trap. He reached out with his essence and identified them almost at once: Atz and Lurx.
Both still wore their magic-imbued armor and were oblivious to Judas¡¯s arrival. The warlock suppressed a smile, glad he still possessed the ability to sneak up on them. His skills remained undiminished since the war. He walked closer and cleared his throat. Startled, they turned, drawing swords but stopped when they recognized him. The warlock gazed at them, his expression masking his thoughts. The two smaller, muscular forms bowed in greeting, almost bumbling.
¡°Don¡¯t bow to me; I¡¯m not a king,¡± the warlock admonished. His face grimaced as though he were sucking on a lemon, and he tossed his belongings on the ground near the fire.
Kings are more trouble than they¡¯re worth.
Once, he befriended a king who honored him above all others. Blessed with a powerful and rich friend, Judas never lost himself to the decorum of palace life. He winced when people were as fearful around him as their king. They feared his wrath, an imaginary worry. From then on, the idea of monarchy repulsed Judas.
¡°No, not a king,¡± muttered Atz, ¡°but you¡¯re the supreme wizard of all wizardkind. You even cast out the dark lord into the eternal abyss itself! Doesn¡¯t your deed grant you some respect?¡±
¡°You did give us all an incredible gift,¡± seconded Lurx, ¡°life without fear.¡±
¡°Master Guardians, that¡¯s very kind of you, but life without fear is only half a life. With life there¡¯s death, love and fear, joy and hate, a never-ending circle that must be balanced. Nothing is eternal¡ªnot the Abyss, not death.¡±
¡°You speak of the myth,¡± Lurx said, breathing deep.
Am I? he wondered. If he was, he didn¡¯t do so consciously.
Atz nodded. ¡°From the fairies.¡±
¡°The one about a mage coming forth from beyond the touch of mysticism? Are you familiar with it?¡± The two dwaven shook their heads. Judas smiled. ¡°In essence, the legend is of a being who will come forth and be a perfect balance between light and dark. Equal in all aspects: life, death, love, hate, like life itself. The mage will be the restorer of life¡ªin more ways than one. Knowledge and experience will come with heavy costs, loves lost, hate found, death will come, and life will thrive.¡±
The two dwaven grew silent and gave a slight shudder; they did not like to talk about death. For dwaven, the subject was taboo. Death, though inevitable, was shunned from casual conversation. When the subject of death couldn¡¯t be avoided, they talked through obscured and slanted meanings, often referring to life. For the dwaven, only the Keeper of the Dead spoke about the deceased.
Many didn¡¯t find dwaven hospitable. Wizardkind became skeptical of their shorter friends because they closed themselves off in their mountain halls, alienating from the outside world, and perceived this as a sign they did not care for any of the other races. Their dark history drove them to alienation. Most would leave the mystery unsolved, not caring why the dwaven behaved this way. Wizardkind was guilty of the same thing too, only caring for themselves.
How did we become so short sighted?
Long ago, the friendly race lived beside the mountains rather than inside them. The dwaven made fine armor, swords, and shields using methods only privy to them, passed from generation to generation, father to son, but that changed after the centaurs hatched their nefarious plans.
Judas enjoyed their company and cherished it as much as that of elyves, unicorns, fairies, and dragons, the latter sparingly.
Atz combed his stubby, thick fingers through his long waist-length beard. ¡°Could that mage be you?¡±
¡°No.¡±
¡°How can you be sure?¡± Lurx interjected. ¡°You could be. You did defeat the dark lord.¡±
¡°How are you sure you¡¯re dwaven?¡±
¡°Because I am!¡± Lurx proclaimed with pride.
¡°Yes, but how do you know you are a dwaven? Perhaps your forefathers got a name wrong, and you¡¯re a dwandur or an elyf.¡±
¡°Because that¡¯s what I am,¡± Lurx repeated, slower. ¡°I¡¯ve been told; I¡¯d know if I was different.¡±
¡°As would I, Master Guardian.¡± The warlock gave a kind smile. ¡°I¡¯ll admit to the similarities between the myth and my life, but I don¡¯tcome from beyond the touch of mysticism.¡±
¡°Where is everyone?¡± Atz inquired. Judas relented to the blatant change of the subject. The dwaven, anxious for the meeting to be over and away from the centaur sure to come. The warlock sympathized.
¡°The journey is long, and not everyone can slip away from watchful eyes,¡± the warlock said, pausing to frown in concentration. ¡°So, we shall wait.¡±
¡°Why are we meeting here instead of Ralloc or your manor?¡± asked Lurx.
¡°I¡¯ve grown suspicious of Ralloc. Who hasn¡¯t? Enemy eyes are scrutinizing it, and this is the only place where we can be protected by Soma and other benevolent spirits.¡± He smiled down at the dwaven. Hearing the name of their goddess helped calm them, but he didn¡¯t believe in such notions himself, at least, not the dwaven¡¯s version. Both dwaven and their taller cousins, dwandurs, were a superstitious lot.
¡°What makes you think Ralloc is watched?¡± Atz spoke at last.
¡°Everyone looks to Ralloc, from all over Ermaeyth, and always will. There are whispers if you listen.¡±
¡°We can always trust your judgment, Judas,¡± a honeyed voice came from behind them. All three turned, spying Madam Meristal Raviils as she strode forward. ¡°Is this a full meeting? Who else are we waiting on?¡±
¡°Down to business fast¡ªyou appreciate what I like,¡± Judas commented, and he held his arms wide to embrace her again, propriety discarded.
They released each other, quicker this time, and he spoke to all present. ¡°We¡¯re waiting on Staell, a maghai of unicorns; Sedrus, the baleful weapon master of the centaurs; Zmora, the fairy representative; Mella, of the elyves of the Enclave in the Vikal Mountains¡ªand the elyfian High Consular in training. We have two new additions, the goblins and council members Kellis and Lagelm, and Soma, of course,¡± Judas carefully added the dwaven¡¯s goddess at the end, whether real or imaginary.
Almost as soon as Judas spoke, five figures appeared and approached the fire together. Sedrus, the centaur, called out a greeting as Judas surveyed them from afar. To his disappointment, he didn¡¯t spy the goblins, the two newest members among them.
Sedrus stared down as he neared the fire, and seeing the two dwaven, turned his head in disgust. ¡°What are these vermin doing here?¡±
¡°They¡¯re here on my request,¡± Judas intoned with a commanding voice, leaving no room for argument. ¡°They¡¯re the guardians of the magical and non-magical realms. The V¡¯Sol have cared for the Mirror of Imaesion since the beginning. We require their help, and we¡¯ll respect them as equals. Their abilities can shield us from prying eyes and sensitive ears.¡±
Sedrus kept his head high, a blatant show of disgust and reluctance to cooperate. The two dwaven eyed each other and gave a silent snicker.
Judas, privy to the knowledge that the V¡¯Sol talked telepathically because of their armor, only imagined what jokes were at Sedrus¡¯ expense.
¡°I didn¡¯t predict Lagelm¡¯s and Kellis¡¯ absence. It seems they aren¡¯t coming. We can begin. This morning, the Mirror of Imaesion reacted erratically due to enchantments detected on the Other Side of the gateway. Once there, it came to my attention the Kothlus Trilogy emerged once again. For those of you who do not recall, the Kothlus books are written in Xilor¡¯s blood, the only way I might bind him. If he or his minions acquire them, he¡¯ll be one step closer to resurrecting. These three books are the starting point of what I¡¯ve been trying to prevent.¡±
¡°A starting point to what, Judas?¡± Zmora questioned.
¡°I think you comprehend as well as the rest of us, Zmora. It could only be one thing,¡± Meristal spoke. A hardness filled her voice, and the expression on her face showed how much she loathed when anyone, or anything, tried to question or contradict Judas. ¡°How many times must he prove himself? By the time you all start believing, it¡¯ll be too late.¡±
¡°The Dark Lord Xilor will return to power?¡± Mella, the elyfian, interrupted. ¡°I didn¡¯t think it possible.¡±
¡°Not will, not for certain, but he¡¯s in the process as we speak,¡± Judas admitted, frowning. ¡°Someone went to the Other Side to retrieve the books. I¡¯m still looking into how they managed to get past Atz and Lurx. What does this mean for us?¡±
We have a betrayer in our midst, Staell stated. The unicorn gleamed, effulgent, his inner light shining through his translucent skin. A slight shiver went through the gathering. Unicorns spoke with telepathy; each time they spoke, it was like an invasion of privacy unless you became accustomed to it. Judas looked up, making eye contact.
¡°No,¡± Sedrus interjected. ¡°There¡¯s no way he could come back. You killed him! You told us you killed him!¡±
¡°Indeed, I did. Even though I killed him, he still lives.¡±
¡°What?¡± Zmora probed.
¡°The infallible Lakayre lied!¡± Sedrus proclaimed.
I¡¯m sure¡ª Staell began.
¡°Your treachery knows no bounds.¡± Sedrus reared. ¡°Perhaps the Kothlere Order is right to cast you out, to hunt you down! If he isn¡¯t dead, where is he?¡±
¡°Enough!¡± shouted a voice. All eyes turned to Atz. The dwaven kept their silence in the meetings, only present as a means of protection, this marking the first time they¡¯d spoken to everyone. ¡°Master Lakayre stopped him. That¡¯s all that matters! If he hadn¡¯t, you would all be kneeling at Xilor¡¯s feet by now, or perhaps even deceased!¡±
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¡°We all want to understand,¡± Lurx said. ¡°Even I must confess curiosity. How did you stop him Master Lakayre?¡±
The warlock went silent for a few moments while he relived memories he tried to forget. ¡°I destroyed his body, rendering him unsuitable to sustain life, but he still lived on in a wraith-like form. I ripped his soul away, tearing it from his consciousness, yet he struggled on. I trapped his mind, his essence into a mirror, much like the Mirror of Imaesion¡ªthat¡¯s where I got the idea from¡ªyet he survived. I cast his soul into the Abyss, and his hold on magic ceased. Returning for his body, Xilor spoke to me from the mirror, still alive. I realized he couldn¡¯t die though I don¡¯t know why. With time, he was sure to escape, and the only thing left to do was to make it as hard as possible for him to come back. I siphoned the blood from his body and buried his body in the City of Despair. That¡¯s when his followers stole the mirror from Ralloc. Even if he managed to procure one part of himself, he¡¯d still need the others.¡±
This does not help us, Staell broke in. He scanned the others gathered. Is your curiosity satisfied? Now we need to work on preventing him from returning. You heard Judas yourself, it¡¯s a matter of time, not if. We must work to prolong this inevitable conclusion. We must find the betrayer among us.
¡°It¡¯s the bloody vampires,¡± Sedrus mused, his tone acidic. His gaze swept over to Atz and Lurx. ¡°Or these dwaven.¡±
¡°Yes, betrayed by our kind,¡± Judas confirmed, ignoring Sedrus¡¯ last remark.
¡°Another betrayer in Ralloc¡¡±
¡°The same kind?¡± Sedrus growled. ¡°No, we are not!¡± Hate shined in his eyes as he glared at the dwaven.
¡°Your blood may not be the same, but magic connects you,¡± Judas commented, his ire building. ¡°We are all connected. Either magical or non-magical.¡±
¡°Correct me if I¡¯m wrong,¡± Meristal broke the tension, ¡°but we never caught the first betrayer, did we?¡±
¡°No, we didn¡¯t,¡± Judas confirmed. Meristal noted the tinge of regret.
¡°A first one? When was this? Are you sure it¡¯s not the same one?¡± Mella, the elyves representative asked, her interests piqued. Her raven hair rustled with the caress of a gentle breeze.
¡°Long ago, during the climax of the Wizard¡¯s War,¡± Meristal answered with disdain. ¡°You weren¡¯t part of the group. We¡¯re sure the first one is inactive, either passed on or removed from a position of power and firsthand knowledge. To be honest, we weren¡¯t certain.¡±
¡°Another one rises,¡± the warlock informed. ¡°It¡¯s up to us to find out who did it before the damage is too much to repair. But the three books were located on the Other Side, that much we can discern.¡±
Master Judas? Staell chimed in. You¡¯ve spoken in the past tense more than once. Is there something you haven¡¯t told us?
¡°Indeed, you are wise and alert, Staell. Yes, past tense because they were on the Other Side. They aren¡¯t anymore. I went myself, along with the two guardians, Master Lurx and Master Atz, and council member Daylynn Reese.¡±
¡°You what!¡± Meristal shrieked, her long-time hatred for Daylynn Reese getting the better of her.
¡°The council¡¯s decision, not mine. You¡¯re always my first choice,¡± he assured. ¡°You were still in Mecas River City, and I couldn¡¯t wait for your arrival. We didn¡¯t realize what caused the disturbance at the time, so we had to act.¡±
¡°Of course,¡± Meristal relented. Judas stifled a smile as she bit back retorts and fought for composure. An inkling of a thought crept into his mind; she still longed for the old days, when it was him and her against the world, no matter how much she talked about progression.
Perhaps I¡¯m not the only one who can¡¯t escape the days of the war. The good days, youth and vibrancy, invulnerability. Now? Old and forgotten. During those darkest days, they both meant the world to each other, and their fierce friendship was forged through warfare.
¡°That still doesn¡¯t explain the past tense expression,¡± Mella spoke up. ¡°They¡¯re in our possession now, are they not?¡±
¡°No, they¡¯re not,¡± Judas said, voice solemn. Shock arched through the gathering like wildfire.
¡°How did this happen?¡± Zmora solicited.
¡°It matters not,¡± Mella spoke up. ¡°I¡¯m sure Warlock Lakayre did everything in his power. Someone slipped by him. Could any of you do better?¡± Other than Meristal¡¯s mumble of ¡®maybe,¡¯ everyone went silent, an unarticulated agreement.
¡°I want each Head of Creatures to report and keep tabs on their designated species. Be mindful of more signs of Xilor, like the sheol on the Other Side.¡±
¡°I heard about that,¡± Meristal grunted.
¡°Sedrus, following this meeting, check on the other centaurs: Mella, take the goblins, trolls, and elyves. Zmora, of course, you have the fairies and vampires; Staell, the unicorns are yours, along with the dragons; Meristal, take the gorrillians¡ªyou¡¯re the only one those damn things listen to¡ªand the saricrocians.¡±
Judas pointed to Atz and Lurx. ¡°The dwaven are yours.¡±
He turned to his pack as an angry voice burst into the silence.
¡°What will you be doing, Lakayre?¡± Sedrus demanded. He stamped his hoof, his muscle rippling beneath his chestnut brown coat.
A thick, choking silence fell. Everyone waited, taken aback by Sedrus¡¯ blatant disregard for titles and propriety within the group. Muted conversation ceased. Eyes darted around, averting the two. No one wanted to watch this confrontation. Judas led, they followed, doing whatever he asked, knowing the necessity. Sedrus was the only being in the circle who didn¡¯t like answering to anyone outside his race¡ªor anyone at all.
¡°Well,¡± Judas said, disregarding the lack of respect Sedrus showed him, ¡°Soma and I will be talking to the sheol, unless, of course, you want to trade, Sedrus?¡± A shudder swept through the camp, the fiends of death slipping their minds. Those creatures were a thought best left unformed. ¡°Well?¡± Judas prompted.
¡°I think you know what would be best, Master Wizard.¡±
Judas nodded, twiddling his goatee with this thumb and forefinger. ¡°We¡¯ll meet again, and soon. I¡¯ll contact you when we can meet again.¡±
¡°There¡¯s something else,¡± Sedrus interjected. Everyone stopped, eyeing the centaur. ¡°Daylynn gave her report to the council. The consul moved for a motion to hunt you down and kill you. We blocked the motion. You¡¯ll be surprised, but Daylynn sided with Lagelm, Kellis, and I. She said you saved her life.¡±
¡°I did,¡± Judas confirmed. ¡°Twice.¡±
¡°I believe it¡¯s because of your actions, she voted against hunting you down. The consul is livid and still wants to extradite the Wcic. For the moment, you¡¯re not officially hunted, at least by Ralloc.¡±
¡°Good. Now I need to figure out who is hunting me.¡±
Sedrus turned to leave when Staell called out through his mental projection. I have something to add. My people tasked me to deliver a warning to the council. Since a member is present, I shall do it now. The sheol now congregate and are poised to strike anyone! Who they decide to strike is uncertain, but the threat is real. They stirred in the shadows of their ruins and attempted to kill Warlock Lakayre and your council member on the Other Side. The lower castes of vampires stir in Shadow City. The portents are real if one choose to pay attention. Something sinister stirs beyond sight. War is coming.
The centaur swallowed hard, knowing what a message from the unicorns would imply and the weight of their words. ¡°I¡¯ll deliver the message,¡± Sedrus grunted.
Also, if war does come, our allegiance lies with Warlock Lakayre.
Sedrus nodded and moved off, and others followed him. Judas saw the foreboding on the centaur¡¯s face. He didn¡¯t relish the thought of delivering the message in its entirety.
Staell moved closer to the warlock. I wish to bestow a gift to the Wcic.
Judas¡¯s eyes narrowed, but he held his tongue. Instead, he spoke, ¡°I can arrange a short visit around dawn. I didn¡¯t plan to return to my manor because the council would look for me there first; and being hunted by an unknown factor, though undoubtedly a minion of Xilor, only further solidified my not returning. But I left something very valuable and must fetch it. I¡¯ll bring her around dawn.¡±
Where will you go afterward?
¡°Eventually to Wizard¡¯s Pass. I have an old acquaintance there. Few are familiar with him, and we should be relatively safe as it¡¯s out of the way and out of sight.¡±
A sound plan. I¡¯ll await you at your manor at dawn.
Staell retreated, leaving Judas with Meristal, Atz, and Lurx. He motioned to the dwaven. ¡°You may leave. Thank you for your service.¡±
The two dwaven bowed and faded to carry out the task Judas gave them.
Judas withdrew his wand from the folds of his inner robe and pointed at the flickering fire the dwaven built. The earth churned, dousing the fire with sand, giving the appearance as if no one had ever come.
Meristal gazed at Judas and raised an eyebrow.
¡°There¡¯s someone among us who¡¯s feeding information to the enemy,¡± he confirmed. ¡°I haven¡¯t been able to discover who yet, even after all these years, so I must take precautionary actions. Spells can only be so good if someone is trying to listen in. If someone can track down our location, I wouldn¡¯t want to give anything away.¡±
¡°Any ideas of who?¡±
¡°Well, I can rule you out now,¡± he mused with a bittersweet smile and mocking tone.
¡°Oh? Why¡¯s that?¡±
¡°During the time of your absence to Mecas River City,¡± Judas explained, ¡°things happened only people in the Kothlere Council would be aware of and couldn¡¯t have been you.¡±
¡°So, the search is narrowed down to the council?¡± Meristal asked, treading with caution on the sensitive subject.
¡°Yes, and no.¡±
¡°Anything to do with this group?¡± she inquired, terrified the answer might be yes.
¡°No, I don¡¯t believe so. I cast a powerful charm that will notify us of treacherous thoughts in our midst. If someone cannot be trusted, we¡¯d know.¡±
¡°And there¡¯s no way to trick you?¡±
¡°Sure.¡± He shrugged his shoulders. ¡°Anything¡¯s possible. Unlikely, but I¡¯m not infallible. They would either be powerful, intelligent, or privy to some form of ancient wizardry I¡¯m not.¡±
¡°So, other than suspicions, you can¡¯t narrow down the exact perpetrator?¡±
¡°No,¡± Judas said, decisive. ¡°Too many people are coming and going in the castle for absolutes, but I¡¯m getting closer. I just need more time. Why are you so interested all of a sudden?¡±
¡°Well, if the dark lord is coming back¡ªor is back¡ªthen time is something we may not have,¡± Meristal reminded.
¡°Too true.¡±
¡°Where are you going? After your manor, I mean?¡± she inquired.
¡°Dlad City, I should think. It¡¯ll give me time to prepare the girl for her journey.¡±
¡°Can I see you before you leave? I just got here.¡±
He smiled. ¡°I know. We don¡¯t have the best timing, do we?¡± He hugged her again. ¡°Let me know when you are coming. Okay?¡±
She pulled away, nodded, and teleported away, leaving Judas alone. He still had his task to complete.
Gathering his power, he too, vanished.
His wink carried him to the opening of the Corridor of Cruelty, once a monumental feat to all who crossed its cursed threshold, now a lingering moment of discomfort for the warlock. Long ago, Judas entered the Corridor, and for three months he suffered all the cruelties it offered. They were months that seemed like years. But he mastered the Corridor, and now he only experienced the briefest moments of suffering as he walked through on foot. All who came passed by on foot or horseback. No one, nothing, could teleport through, an anomaly unto itself. Once across the five-mile gap, he teleported again to his destination.
On the other side of the teleport, death and decay greeted him. The grass crumbled to ash beneath his feet. Even in the dark, Judas knew the dirt went from a rich brown to black as charcoal, black as death. Stone monoliths littered the way in front of him, each an epitaph of an identified member of some long forgotten royal family. This place where the sheol stayed¡ªThe Ruins of Sheol¡ªwas the final resting place of countless millions, both from the Wizard¡¯s War and another war from long ago, forgotten by society, a rarity in educated circles of historians. Ignorance of the place, though common, was due to the meticulous erasure from most texts circulating in the general populace. The Ruins were hard to track down, but slivers of history from the once epic war could be traced back, almost to the beginning of magic if historians searched hard enough.
Judas withdrew his wand from his robes, and a light appeared at the tip, casting long shadows on the raised tombstones in front of him. The sheol, like moths, attracted to luminance in small amounts, but too much and they would die. Judas peered into the darkness before him, his eyes searching for any signs of movement.
They are here, they are always here, he reminded himself.
In answer to his thoughts, a skittering noise like fingernails scraped over a chalkboard, manifested in front of him. The faint sound of wind sucking in followed. The breath of a sheol, an echoing effect, impossible to determine which was the first and which was an echo through the continuous sound.
¡°What comes?¡± a deep, rattling called.
¡°Your Head of Creatures,¡± Judas responded, mustering a tone of command he didn¡¯t feel. The sheol, like the City of Despair, compelled a strange effect on the living. The City of Despair, once great with splendor, rivaled Ralloc and the Golden City. Towers and buildings made of crystal and marble, lush green gardens and clear waters, but now a dead spot on the face of the Ermaeyth. Anyone who entered unprepared never came out again.
¡°We have no Head of Creatures. We have no want,¡± the sheol responded.
¡°I am, and I do.¡± Judas stopped walking forward, waiting for the sheol to come out in the open. Slowly, the decaying wraith slithered forward like a serpent floating in the air. Left and right, it inched forward, floating like a wisp of smoke, coiling and recoiling. The wraith stopped meters short of Judas and hovered like a black cloud of toxic gas.
¡°What is it?¡± the sheol hissed.
¡°Let us begin by talking about your master¡¡±
Chapter 6: Gryzlaud Palace
Across the sea of rolling plains, wastelands, rivers, and forests, past the Abyss in an undiscovered castle called Gryzlaud, lay the true books that Judas desperately sought. The Kothlus Trilogy. Many hunted Gryzlaud, including the warlock himself, but no one stepped foot inside who did not owe allegiance to the dark lord. For over three legends, it remained hidden, a refuge. Xilor trained from the inception of his tutelage, many years into his life, chosen by the previous Dark Lord¡ªHadius Lacove¡ªto succeed him. The castle now fell under his rule.
Xilor drew into himself, centering his essence. Derms, his goblin-slave, muttered to himself as he polished a silver bowl used for alchemy. Xilor felt something coming. He sensed his apprentice approaching, but that didn¡¯t bother him. An aspect beyond his apprentice, far off, a new element had arrived and upset the balance. He noticed the ripple effect even from here. All his time trapped in the mirror taught him to be mindful of his sorcery, and he became hyper-sensitive. In a way, Judas helped him as Hagen helped all beings.
Hagen, the Father of Magic, was rumored to have built Gryzlaud ages upon ages ago. The same tale spoke of his introducing magic to all living things, including the elyves, unicorns, dwaven, vampires, and the like. The fable of Hagen ended with him going mad as he discovered new uses for his power until he became the first dark lord.
The irony of the legend: vampires didn¡¯t exist until many ages after Hagen¡¯s death. Xilor, like others before him, knew the truth. The second dark lord created the vampires and, in turn, became the first vampire, Vlad Vikal. The mountains far to the north, which Ralloc nestled against, were named after his family: the Vikal Mountains. The Krey and the elyves resided there now. Vikal, however, wasn¡¯t the name most associated with him. He was more commonly known as Vlad the Insane, Vlad the Horrible, and Vlad the Impaler.
Because of this truth, Xilor excused the failed prodigies of one of the greatest Dark Lords. He tolerated the vampires¡¯ floundering as a sign of respect to their origins. Though he failed in the end, Vlad¡¯s tinkering with alchemy and enchantments lead Xilor down a similar path with his creation of the xcix. But for all his greatest achievements, Vlad, unlike Xilor, couldn¡¯t cheat death. Even though Xilor still lived, he hid, vulnerable in his current state.
Gryzlaud, a monument to the past masters who resided here, was now a mausoleum filled with artifacts, trinkets, amulets, rings, and the like. An expansive throne room the envy of any ruler; the towers and walls rivaled Ralloc, defenses bolstered by eons of channeled dark energy. The castle, though a fortress, was only as safe as the strength of the residing Dark Lord. In his current state, even Xilor needed his refuge, utilizing all his acquired secrets, hiding in the labyrinth of his home, the unseen underbelly.
A soft creak of the door, a hushed stirring of air, and the near-silent footfalls drew Xilor away from his musings. Though alive, he didn¡¯tcommand his body. When he did, he planned to exact revenge and return to the war, but with a new focus.
The footsteps grew louder; Xilor opened his eyes. His servant, one of his apprentices, strolled confidently forward, carrying three giant leather-bound volumes ravaged by time. He set the tomes on a long table filled with scales, herbs, brewing cauldrons, and other concoctions. Xilor couldn¡¯t use alchemy himself¡ªhis consciousness imprisoned in the mirror¡ªbut he could instruct his servant. The apprentice smiled, triumphant, his face tilting up toward the giant mirror.
¡°Is it time?¡± Xilor¡¯s voice rattled from the mirror. The voice rasped, like glass shards grinding together.
¡°It is, my master.¡±
Xilor regarded his beaming apprentice, smug in his success, overconfident with pride. Sidjuous needed to be reminded of his place and the price of arrogance.
Sidjuous was one of many of the Dark Lord¡¯s apprentices, a student of his arts. The highest levels of forbidden ways eluded him, but he was powerful enough to snuff out the lives of a few who meddled and came too close to discovering Xilor and his location. He was, in all aspects, the most trusted apprentice, but his extreme jealousy of the other apprentices distracted him. Thoughts of betraying his master never entered his mind. This, in Xilor¡¯s opinion, made him the weakest.
His tall physique was framed with long, flowing blond hair. A broad chin and delicate, haughty features gave him the visage of imagined noble pedigree, an amusement of Xilor¡¯s, knowing his apprentice thought of himself from a royal bloodline.
He understands so little of royalty.
¡°The books?¡± the mirror asked, soft and hesitant.
¡°Here, my lord.¡± Sidjuous laid a longing hand upon the ripped bindings, his finger tracing the frayed spine. Xilor breathed a proverbial sigh of relief. He couldn¡¯t breathe, not in the mirror. The Dark Lord let the warm glow swell within, basking in the moment. A victory. A huge step to returning to his body, but small to the grand conclusion. Xilor beheld his arrogant apprentice who paused, looking at the texts, before turning his attention to the bent and twisted goblin. Sidjuous walked away from the table towards the mirror.
¡°Bring the Kothlus Trilogy, slave,¡± Sidjuous commanded. A malicious sneer crossed his face as he waited for the goblin-slave, Derms, to obey.
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Whenever Sidjuous got the chance, he gave simple, mundane commands to the goblin, never missing an opportunity to flaunt his higher status. It would be quicker and easier for Sidjuous to do it, but it wasn¡¯t his way.
Vanity is unbecoming, Xilor noted.
His apprentices, like his corrective measures, were diverse; some needed overt control, others subtle nudges. With his Betrayer, he took a ruthless approach, coercing his continued service. He couldn¡¯t with Sidjuous. At least, not now.
There were times when he needed to remind his apprentice of his place, but he wasn¡¯t overly harsh. He feared Sidjuous would break and leave him stranded. He needed Sidjuous, but the apprentice lost his fear of his master. He needed to find it again. When Xilor returned to his body, Sidjuous would be rewarded with a stay of execution. Loyal-to-a-fault made him unworthy, but unwavering loyalty had its uses.
¡°I¡¯ll bring them if my master commands. I don¡¯t take orders from his sycophants,¡± the old goblin croaked. Xilor broke his spirit, but Derms never gave in to his apprentices. Xilor admired spirit.
Sidjuous pulled his wand and barked a curse, throwing the dwarfed goblin against the wall.
Derms slumped and held himself, rocking back and forth. He muttered aloud, ¡°How can I complete master¡¯s command when I¡¯m not able to walk?¡±
¡°Quit your whining, get up, and get the books!¡± Sidjuous ordered again, this time taking a few more deliberate steps away from the table.
Derms, reaching his feet, grabbed the leather-bound tomes with reluctance. Sid glanced back at the blinkless gaze staring out from the mirror, ignoring the little goblin. A shadow of anxiety clouded Sidjuous¡¯ eyes, an unspoken question if he went too far.
Xilor ignored the look. ¡°Whose blood will we mix with mine? It must be suitable.¡± Xilor kept his counsel, but more often than not, more voices gave rise to better reasoning. He posed questions to judge his apprentices.
¡°We will use the blood of the enemy¡¯s nieces. Both of them.¡±
¡°I don¡¯t trust Miza. Olga could be a powerful wizard, but her sister Miza ¡ she warrants scrutiny,¡± the mirror said.
¡°What makes you say that, my lord?¡±
¡°Miza has yet to give in to the teachings I supplied, however, Olga will be an asset for us to obtain.¡±
¡°Yes, she will, and she¡¯s a beautiful, young woman, too.¡±
¡°As beautiful as she is deadly,¡± Xilor replied. He turned his gaze upon the goblin slave. ¡°Come, my faithful servant.¡± Derms obliged with alacrity, moving towards the books.
¡°Master, your servant has done what you have asked. Might I retire this evening?¡± Derms inquired, fearful. He approached the mirror with reverence and laid the texts on the floor, his eyes turned downward, submissive.
¡°Be gone,¡± Xilor granted. Derms swept from the room as quick as he dared. The eyes in the mirror shifted to the apprentice that remained, then to the books.
I¡¯ve waited so long, and the moment is here at last. So much time wasted.
The books bore his scrutiny. The thought of being whole once more was so tantalizingly close. The wretched Judas Lakayre put him here, turned on him, destroyed him. Xilor did much for him in a previous life. His hatred for Judas ran deep as did his respect. He never liked or trusted him to begin with, but he did grant respect, even if he was a misguided fool.
Xilor couldn¡¯t blame Judas for rising against him; the warlock didn¡¯t know who he was beneath the cowl. But, Judas did know him, though unaware of the connection. He often wondered whether things would have been different if Judas grasped the truth from the start. Would he have joined him in his quest?
Xilor mentally shook his head. Probably not; Judas couldn¡¯t cast aside his well-known morals and rigid beliefs.
But there was the slight chance he would have. If he did, could he be trusted? Would Judas take his place at Xilor¡¯s side, or would he try to be greater than the dark lord himself? Who knew? There was yet a way to change the past, at least as far as Xilor knew. An unchangeable constant, something always beyond his reach, like invisibility and bringing the dead back to life. Their souls, no matter how powerful the wielder, would never be whole like before. Only one controlled that power.
Tearing himself away from his musings, Xilor spoke. ¡°Let us begin. Bring forth the vessel.¡± Sid summoned the kettle, maneuvering it near the coffin-like statue that was the vessel.
¡°Now the tomes, hover them over the bowl and burn them. Make sure all the ash makes it into the bowl.¡± Xilor lead him through the precarious instructions, blending the fourth branch of magic¡ªDerengi¡ªand alchemy together. The pace was ponderous, the instructions tedious, but Sid followed his edicts like an expert
¡°Begin the siphon,¡± his grating voice commanded. On his word, the apprentice cast another spell, the ashes spinning in a cyclone. He laid on another weave of conjury, drawing out the essence of Xilor¡¯s blood out of the spinning ashes and sent it weaving across the air into two casks filled with water. The water turned red.
¡°Into the vessel,¡± Xilor bade him.
The vessel, a form-fitted coffin far from ordinary, molded for a humanoid nearing nine-feet tall, designed for a giant. Some people whispered Xilor was half-giant because he dabbled in more magic than full-blooded giants could tolerate. Giant¡¯s blood had nothing to do with his towering frame, it was more his dark ambitions and magical machinations that twisted him into the towering wraith.
That and a little help. The creature he became was the dark lord everyone knew and feared.
¡°I need my soul from the Abyss, which I arranged, and my skin and bones, what¡¯s left of it. Dispatch the Inium clan to send a squad of trolls to the City of Despair where they can retrieve the powder of my bones.¡±
The apprentice bowed low and hurried away through the same doors as the goblin.
Sidjuous did have his uses, Xilor thought, and was glad he did not kill him when he initially wanted to. Weak, unworthy, but he also had ambition and cunning. Xilor kept him around for many reasons. Sidjuous was one of the select few allowed to see him in his weakened state. When the time drew closer to his return, he would bring others into the fold, one being the vampires.
Speaking of which, Xilor thought. The Betrayer needs more incentive in his dealings with the vampires.
¡°Psimond.¡± Xilor cast the spell, projecting his will into magical accumulation. An eerie green glow came from the mirror and illuminated the room.
¡°The Betrayer in Shadow City,¡± Xilor completed the magical command.
Chapter 7: The Betrayer
Death, and the cold chill that accompanied, were old acquaintances, but not a friend to the Betrayer. Darkness, shadows, silence: this place held the whispers of madness. The Betrayer strained hard against the ringing silence, his composure slipping. The porous stone walls made of black and red flecked granite were as cold as sheets of ice. What little light was granted to the Betrayer failed to keep the claustrophobia at bay. The lack of fresh air didn¡¯t help, either. If he didn¡¯t get out of here soon, he¡¯d lose his mind. He relished the thought of leaving, deprived of the suns and the chirps of birds for a moon turn.
A little over a month ago, the dark lord sent him as his emissary to the Clan King of the vampires in Shadow City. His duty: to voice Xilor¡¯s displeasure at their lack of commitment to the fallen lord. At first, his presence was taken as a joke. Only when the sheol showed up did the vampires stir from their languid slumber. When the sheol quickened, everyone took it as a sign Xilor wasn¡¯t far behind.
The Betrayer paced his small and windowless room. A cot nestled against the far wall beside a table with a washbasin. A nondescript and unflattering mirror was the only other decoration in the room. One candle burned, striving in vain to hold the intense darkness at bay.
The mirror swirled in a yellow-green fog, an expected transmission. When the swirling subsided, an image of eyes came into view, familiar, cold, peculiar. The Betrayer plastered a smile on his face and prostrated himself on the floor. ¡°My lord, this is a pleasant surprise. Is stage one complete?¡± he asked, trying to mask his true feelings.
¡°Yes, my faithful servant. Your switching of the books in the non-magical realm turned out to be your best accomplishment yet, including your memory charm on the girl. The flawless plan worked; even the great Lakayre was caught unaware. But your future may be forfeit because now they must know another Betrayer is among them. Instead of you, they hunt my apprentice. I cannot permit this.¡±
¡°Have they caught him, then?¡± the servant asked, almost hopeful. If the newest minion Xilor placed inside the walls of Ralloc was caught, that would effectively retire the Betrayer from his vile service, and the Dark Lord would have to start over. He prayed to whatever gods existed the day would come soon.
¡°No, they haven¡¯t. But you should heed my words and watch your back, for they¡¯ll catch on and come for you. If they capture you, I¡¯ll have no need to keep them alive.¡±
Dear Spirits, not the children. Anything but them.
¡°As long as the trilogy with your blood is back, the risk was worth it, my lord.¡±
¡°Yes.¡± Xilor paused, scrutinizing the man. ¡°What of the vampires? Have they allied themselves yet?¡±
¡°Yes, my lord. The clan king of the vampire will set out tonight to meet you. He¡¯ll arrive in a few days.¡±
¡°And what of the sheol? Have they also aligned with me? Did they not sense my presence and power growing stronger?¡±
¡°They are ready for war, but I¡¯m not certain they can be persuaded. They¡¯re aware that without them, we would be hard pressed to win. If they don¡¯t fight for us, then all is lost.¡±
¡°Not lost, no. I¡¯m never without a fail-safe. Even if my demons of death do not side with us, they will when they sense the power shift.¡±
¡°Yes, but I think they might already ally with us after the attack on Lakayre. That almost seals their fate with us.¡±
¡°The staged attack on the Other Side? My apprentice took the opportunity to try to eliminate you and Judas on the Other Side. His foolishness tipped our hand early. I didn¡¯t command him to do so. He¡¯ll pay for his transgression. But the act might work in our favor. If the sheol think some of their rank have sided against Ralloc, perhaps more will come to the cause. You¡¯d think the creatures I created would be trustworthy; however, spending much time with them as I, one learns they can never be trusted completely. Their agendas are their own.¡±
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¡°Perhaps they won¡¯t pledge allegiance to either side of the struggle and mean to finish off whatever side wins when they¡¯re at their weakest,¡± the Betrayer mused out loud.
¡°Careful, turncoat. If I didn¡¯t know any better, I would¡¯ve figured that was your idea all along!¡±
Shades of the Underworld!
The Betrayer blushed and bowed low. ¡°No, my lord, I¡¯d never turn against you!¡±
¡°How do I know? You betrayed your kind, your blood.¡±
¡°My lord, why would I turn against the dark tide when it drowns out all light in the realm? I¡¯ve been foolish in the past to think such conservative actions are the true display of power; I know that to have power, you must demonstrate it with full might!¡±
¡°I can see into your soul. Much hatred burns within you, but for whom? Me?¡±
If you only knew the truth.
¡°My lord, the hatred is the fuel to my power, and you know who it burns for. I hate mentioning his name.¡±
¡°Judas Lakayre?¡± the voice sneered. It slithered like an oily creature breathed to life.
¡°Yes, my lord.¡±
¡°Good, then you¡¯ll have no problem killing him when the time comes!¡±
¡°My lord.¡± Betrayer bowed, showing reverence.
Do I want to kill Warlock Lakayre?
¡°My lord, wouldn¡¯t you want the pleasure of killing the person who destroyed you?¡±
¡°Yes, I would. Nothing would please me more than to kill him; however, nothing would show me more loyalty than if you took Judas¡¯s life!¡± The Betrayer bowed low again, lower than before to hide his face, giving him time to compose his mask.
I can¡¯t kill him. I¡¯m no murderer.
He looked up. ¡°I¡¯m honored, my lord! Do you know where he is?¡±
¡°Yes, my other spy, my apprentice, said he saw him in Ralloc earlier today. Two betrayers are better than one, don¡¯t you think? And three, well, I believe in redundancy.¡±
¡°As always, my lord, your wisdom is boundless,¡± the Betrayer bowed a third time, his face grimacing into the ground and out of view.
¡°Good. Enough of the not-too-distant future; how¡¯s the Clan King getting here?¡±
¡°Given that no one can teleport across the Corridor of Cruelty, he¡¯s going to use the journey-stone I gave him to teleport outside the Corridor. He¡¯ll fly through under the cover of night. Once out the other side, he¡¯ll use the journey-stone to teleport to the Ruins of Sheol. Once night falls, he¡¯ll complete the journey to Gryzlaud.¡±
¡°Very well,¡± Xilor said from the mirror. ¡°Your next assignment will be to sway the trolls. Go to the Ruins of Sheol. Incite an uprising, have them attack Wizard¡¯s Pass. There¡¯ll be a small window of time. It¡¯s a test of loyalty.¡±
¡°My Lord, the Ruins of Sheol are through the Corridor of Cruelty, in another realm¡ª¡±
¡°I do not allow you to live to question my wisdom!¡± the acidic voice boomed from the mirror. It almost vibrated out of its framing.
The Betrayer fell to his knees, hunched over with his face to the ground. Scrotum of gods, don¡¯t kill me! ¡°My Lord, forgive me, I was foolish to think¡ª¡±
¡°You are foolish! You think your feeble wizard skills are even close to fathoming my understanding?¡± The eyes narrowed to slits, but when he spoke again, his voice grew quiet though still harsh. ¡°If you think you can outwit me or betray me, think again. I may not be in physical form, but my source of power is vast, if not endless, and I¡¯ll crush you if I perceive the slightest inclination of treachery.¡±
He¡¯s insane!
¡°Forgive me, Lord, I didn¡¯t mean¡ª¡±
¡°¡ªBut you did.¡± Xilor¡¯s acidic voice turned back to the familiar cold, clammy voice. ¡°Otherwise, you would¡¯ve said nothing. I¡¯ll give you five days to complete the negotiations. Five days! Or you won¡¯t be around to witness my return to glory.¡± Before the Betrayer uttered another word, the eyes in the mirror faded in a green swirl, the communication severed.
The Betrayer sagged with relief when the communication terminated. He trembled with exhaustion. He almost wished he¡¯d said ¡®no¡¯ to the Dark Lord all those years ago. But how could he? How could he throw away the lives of two innocent children by not answering the dark lord¡¯s call? He threatened their death every chance he got, to remind the Betrayer where he belonged. It was a tough choice to make: betraying everyone and everything he had known, or the death of innocents. Both choices were horrible and each held distinct consequences. But he¡¯drather betray his heart than suffer the deaths of those children. Still, he needed to find a way to escape, utilizing every bit of guile and ingenuity he could muster. The time had come for him to corner the dark lord, to outmaneuver him. He just hoped he could come away unscathed.
¡°Five days ¡¡± he muttered to himself. A near-impossible feat. He needed to find a journeyman and purchase a porting stone. The candle of time burned quickly. Five days to prove his usefulness, loyalty, and reliability.
Chapter 8: Lakayre Manor
His feet touched the familiar wood floor of the library. The phthalo-blue carpet lay dark beneath the tables in the distance. Julie still lay on the floor, his traveling cloak about her. He cast a glance over his shoulder, a warm orange and purple glow on the distant horizon to the north. Dawn. When moving to kneel beside her, he discerned a small tremor of magic. He spun, pulling his wand free of his robes, shooting his conjury in a sudden, aimless burst. The blast wave ripped through, invisible to the eye, crashing through shelves, splintering wood, ripping through books, and sent paper flying. A grunt escaped his attacker, but he couldn¡¯t see through the ensuing confusion.
Judas stood to his full height, wary there may be others. He darted down the aisle, dipping around a corner, spying the feet of his attacker, the body buried under shelves and tomes and was unable to identify him. Another tremor from behind him, moments before he heard the incantation. Whirling around, he batted the spell away without a word, throwing up his mage-shield. What he didn¡¯t reflect, the shield absorbed. The second attacker stayed in the shadows, cowering in the darkness, hoping to draw him out. They wanted to divide and conquer, moving him away from Julie. But the question gnawing at him was: were they there for him or her? He assumed for him; it made sense. Why would someone come for the girl?
The warlock turned away, hurrying between the bookshelves, back towards Julie. If they managed to beat him, she was as good as dead. Reaching her moments later, he knelt beside her. Once in his arms, his mage-shield enveloped them both. Another stray bolt of energy ripped through the room, breaking more shelves and destroying more volumes. His heart panged at the sight, knowing the scripts were most likely beyond saving.
He called his power, the essence answering his summons. As he started his teleport, a figure materialized at the other end of the aisle, skidding to a stop. A black cloth shrouded the figure, its face hidden, raising its wand, light and force flaring, shooting forward. The flash was so bright, Judas had to blink several times to regain his sight. When he did, his manor stood before him, the teleport successful.
For a brief moment, he pitied Sam, the librarian, who¡¯d come to work this morning only to find the place destroyed. How did they track me?
He shook his head and adjusted the girl in his arms. A black iron gate guarded the front of his manor and stood fifteen feet high, the brick wall the color of burning coals encompassed the entire manor. The gate opened at his thought, moving in silence, admitting him inside the grounds.
The manor was an enormity for one person. Giant, stark-white pillars greeted all guests. The double doors were made of marble and crystal glass, with an intricate design outlined in silver. The house boasted four stories and painted marble-white.
To the left of the house, as a visitor would face from the entrance, sat a huge barn painted deep, dark green. Horses nickering inside floated through the morning air. To the right of the house sprouted a smaller cottage, Judas¡¯s infamous study. No one entered, not even Meristal, though many guests joked openly about it. The house boasted other study rooms, one per floor in fact; Judas kept all his secrets locked up in this particular cottage.
The warlock walked up the front path, carrying the young woman like a bride. His feet climbed familiar wooden steps. Without word or incantation, the door opened, and he carried her through.
Once inside, he kicked off their leather mesh sandals, pushing them aside with his foot so he wouldn¡¯t track dirt, mud, or manure inside the gorgeous house. The floor was a light stained oak with a lustrous, high-polished finish. He stopped a few paces inside the sitting room, pondering if to place her on the long chair or a bed. His eyes moved up, stared through the open ceiling, architect designed to allow an unimpeded view of all four-stories.
He decided on a bed. The winding stairs hugged the wide walls, a daunting task for his age. The oak staircase was built on a marble base with silver handrails, every few feet inlaid with precious gems. Artistic paintings of people, places, and things, as well as abstract art hung on the wall. Most of his paintings depicted rare, beautiful places, tribes of people long gone, and mythical races. At the second landing, Judas stepped off the staircase and headed down one of the many halls, each of which held several rooms. The house tallied twenty guest rooms in all, four studies, a small kitchen on each floor, and a master kitchen located on the first floor. Each floor came with a sitting room and small library of various books Judas bought, found, and collected over the ages.
Once clearing the last step, he hung a left and entered the first door to his right, which opened in the same manner as the front door. With gentle ease, he laid her on the bed. He could have thrown her, and she wouldn¡¯t have woken from her magically-induced coma. Judas detected her subconscious underneath the pall of magic, blissful yet unaware of anything. The Wcic dreamed of an open meadow with a large oak tree; she ran barefoot through the shin-high grass towards its welcoming shade. Birds twittered a bright song in its branches. Judas smiled at the peaceful dream.
He moved away from her and walked to his room where he disrobed in haste, throwing his tattered clothing at the foot of his bed and pulling out a fresh set of formal yet plain robes. He dressed in an alacritous pace. First, the under robe of white linen. Second, the inner robe of deep tangelo. And third, the outer robe of dark indigo with silver needlework along the cuffs and neck. A traveler¡¯s cloak of tanned color with black stitching added the last touch. Checking one last time in the silver looking-glass, he left his master bedroom and peeked inside the guest room, taking a moment to judge the young woman and assess her state.
Closing the door behind him with a soft click, and after a moment of deliberating with himself, he sealed the door to her room with a magical barrier as an extra precaution. Satisfied, he returned to the sitting room to await Staell.
When he arrived on the first floor, a knock reverberated through the silence. Judas paused, startled. He hadn¡¯t expected anyone other than Staell. Had his enemies come to his house? Had they been watching, waiting? He procured his wand from within his garments and walked to the door, his footfalls soft. The memories of the Wizard¡¯s War came back to him. Old habits he tried to forget sprang to life. His gut clenched, his breath held. If a friend wasn¡¯t on the other side of the door, the victim wouldn¡¯t have time to be sorry.
The door snapped open on his silent command, his wand thrust forward, the tip glowing, magic ready to fly out at a simple thought. The young man dropped his belongings, holding up his hands. ¡°Please, don¡¯t!¡± he cried out.
Judas lowered his wand, his eyes going round. ¡°Toddison? What in the Underworld are you doing here? I almost blasted you to hell and back!¡±
¡°I know, I know, I¡¯m sorry. You told me to come last night, but you weren¡¯t here when I arrived. I waited until midnight.¡± The young man with dark hair bent to collect his things. ¡°And please, just call me Todd. I hate the name Toddison.¡±
¡°I did?¡± Judas puzzled. He thought back to the day prior. Todd spoke the truth. He ran into the young lad¡ªliterally¡ªright after they revoked his citizenship and before the council called on him.
Judas pushed the doors open to the criminal court when he bowled over someone waiting outside. Books, parchment, and ink went flying, crashing to the floor.
¡°Sorry,¡± muttered the young man. He stooped to pick up his belongings. ¡°I didn¡¯t see you there.¡± He bustled to snatch up his things, not bothering to throw a glance at the person who knocked him over. ¡°I¡¯m waiting for the ruling of¡¡± his gaze wandered up, and the color drained from his face. ¡°Master Lakayre!¡± Blue eyes flashed wide, and disheveled black hair whipped around as he did a double-take.
¡°Ah,¡± Judas groaned. He recognized him, but his name escaped him at the moment. ¡°I wondered when I would run into you, though to be honest, I didn¡¯t think it would be quite so literal.¡±
¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± the young man sputtered as he picked up the last of his belongings and tried desperately to smooth his hair. ¡°A coworker told me you were in the castle. I came as quickly as I could, but I¡¯ve been busy as of late. My editor at the paper has been hounding me¡¡±
¡°I see,¡± Judas intoned with a straight face. To be honest with himself, he didn¡¯t know how to react to the boy.
¡°You don¡¯t remember me, do you?¡± the boy asked. His question caught the warlock off guard. Usually, I ask that question. The librarian floated through his thoughts, still fresh. Judas, about to respond, stopped when a man burst from a flight of stairs near him. They locked eyes, and the man crossed over to him.
¡°The council demands your presence,¡± the newcomer breathed.
¡°I just got done seeing them,¡± the warlock exclaimed. ¡°I haven¡¯t broken any laws that I am aware of, unless knocking over the lad is a capital offense.¡± He let his attention meander back to the young man when the messenger in green robes cleared his throat. Judas turned to regard him again. ¡°Yes?¡± he queried.
¡°The Kothlere Council, not the Kothlere Court, summoned you.¡±
¡°Too bad! I might be more inclined to help them if they gave me back my citizenship. Seeing as I¡¯m still an exile, I¡¯m not predisposed to aid them. They can figure out their problems without me.¡±
¡°It¡¯s not for me to guess at the thought process that brought about your summons, warlock,¡± the messenger replied, his answer evasive. He used Judas¡¯s proper title as a rebuke. ¡°I do know their beckons are of the absolute most importance, and your presence is hereby requested.¡±
¡°¡®Absolute most importance¡¯ huh? What¡¯s so important? Famine? War?¡± Judas chuckled at the young man. Most likely a gross exaggeration, like everything else the council did these days.
¡°I can¡¯t discuss the details of their summon, but the consul has called for a closed session,¡± the messenger replied.
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Closed session? Something must be semi-serious for them to close the proceedings to the public, mused Judas.
Still, while intrigued to find out what riled the High Council and the consul enough to close their doors, the warlock couldn¡¯t overcome his righteous anger at being denied his citizenship yet again. His nature to help those in need called to him, festering, like an itch needing to be scratched, but why should he assist those who shunned him?
¡°I don¡¯t answer to them. I¡¯m an exile, their choice, not mine, and therefore exercising my right to ignore the summon. You should quit being their pawn.¡± Judas chuckled. ¡°Express your master¡¯s displeasure on someone else to gratify his manhood.¡±
¡°Warlock! I must protest!¡± the errand boy stated unabashedly.
¡°Protest all you want. Go away.¡± Judas waved him away with his fingers and turned back to the young man he knocked over. ¡°It¡¯s Toddison, right?¡±
¡°Yes, sire. Well, I prefer Todd,¡± the first boy responded, a glowing smile forming. Soft footfalls and a cleared throat informed the warlock that the messenger crept forward.
¡°Forget it,¡± Judas growled to the messenger, not bothering to look at him. ¡°Let the people who elected the council realize they can¡¯t or won¡¯t do anything for them. Perhaps true change will finally come.¡±
The messenger leaned in, conspiratorial-like. ¡°It¡¯s the mirror,¡± he breathed, almost inaudibly.
The three words snared Judas¡¯ss attention. If the reasoning for the summons of the council involved the mirror, the importance was paramount. If Xilor resurrected from the dead, an army sat outside the walls of the capital, and famine spread across the land, the Mirror of Imaesion took precedence. All at once, his anger faded, and he realized the moment of duty beckoned. It wasn¡¯t just his fate on the line, but all Ermaeyth.
¡°Take me to them,¡± Judas croaked. The messenger turned, and Judas made to follow.
¡°Hey, but what about me?¡± Todd, the writer, called.
¡°Sorry, the High Council calls.¡± Judas smiled back, humored by the kid¡¯s unrelenting determination.
¡°But when can I interview you?¡± he nagged. ¡°The people need to hear your story! The true story! The people want to know!¡±
¡°If you can find my house, come by tonight and you can conduct your interview,¡± Judas yelled back, knowing the young boy most likely didn¡¯t have a clue how to get to his house. Todd would pour over records for hours to get a hint about where the Lakayre Manor lay. By then, he would be tired, disgruntled, and the suns would have set. Instead of flat out refusing him yet again, like the Kothlere Court did to him, he¡¯d give the boy some hope.
¡°I¡¯m sorry, Todd,¡± Judas said, the memory retreating. ¡°I totally forgot.¡± He knelt to help the young man who was almost done collecting his things.
¡°I figured as much, or you ducked me again. Why are you so afraid?¡±
The last question gave Judas pause, like a slap in the face. ¡°Afraid? Is that what you think?¡±
The boy shrugged. ¡°What else? Worried people will hear your story and be inspired by the truth?¡±
Judas sighed. ¡°No, I¡¯m not.¡± He stood. Todd finished collecting his belongings off the porch. The fact that Todd thought him scared rankled him. When he spoke, he didn¡¯t try to hide his agitation. ¡°My tale is a narrative of pain, sadness, loss, grief, death, and remorse. Most people would not understand half of what I went through, nor endure. I don¡¯t indulge the idle curiosities of people like you, and the citizens of the city who smile at me are kind enough to keep their distance. I lost loved ones and watched others lose loved ones, saw men who fought and died for ideals not their own. I killed more people than I¡¯d want to count, and I did this all for the sake of a misguided ideal of freedom proposed by a government as corrupt as the enemy we faced. Freedom for you, me, and everyone else who is still alive¡ªeven for the ones who died! There¡¯s nothing inspiring about that, son.
¡°What of the old men and women who cower as I walk by, frightened that I¡¯d kill them, or they¡¯d become cursed for being too close to me? Perhaps they think I¡¯m contagious, and if they breathe the same air, they¡¯ll become sick, too? It¡¯s almost like the Krey, which incidentally, most people are wrong about. Tell me, is it shaping up to be an inspiring story? Do I sound afraid?¡±
Todd swallowed, the reflex audible. The warlock took a few deep breaths, letting go of his irritation, breathing out the stress. Todd opened his mouth to say something, but Judas waved him off. ¡°Don¡¯t. I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m in the wrong. I apologize for not being here when I said I would. I¡¯ll make it up to you. Meet me in Dlad City for lunch, and we can talk about the interview, okay?¡±
Todd¡¯s eyes narrowed, suspicious.
¡°I swear, Todd. Just not right now. I¡¯m expecting company, and then I am leaving. I¡¯ll meet you.¡±
¡°Alright,¡± he mumbled. ¡°Dlad City. Any place in particular?¡±
¡°A small inn called Traveler¡¯s Respite. You know the place?¡± Todd nodded and turned to leave, a dejected look on his face. Judas bid him farewell, waving to him. A movement caught his eye as he turned to retreat inside. Turning his head, he spied Staell inside his barn, the unicorn waiting for the young man to leave before coming out into the open. As the unicorn crossed the lawn, he called to Judas.
Is she awake yet?
Judas shook his head. ¡°No, I was interrupted by a knock at the door. Since unicorns don¡¯t knock, I was intrigued to find out who it might be.¡± He sensed amusement from the unicorn, but Staell changed the subject.
What¡¯s her name?
¡°Julie.¡±
Staell grew silent, still, thoughtful. When he spoke again, his words were measured. I plan on visiting the Hive.
Judas took the news in stride, but he couldn¡¯t help but feel the weight upon his chest. The Hive, a slang term used for Outpost Dire, home of the Krey, the most lethal killing force in all Ermaeyth. On this side, at least.
The Krey: men and women of the Grand Royal Army exiled and secluded from the masses much like Judas, but for different reasons. Most trained since youth, toddlers or a few years older. A few didn¡¯t manifest the bloodlust until adulthood, a rarity in the grand scheme. The Krey took to the battlefield when the war was at its worst, or when Ralloc wanted a quick resolution to the fighting. In the bloodlust, they became mindless monsters unless controlled by the A¡¯uri accompanying them, channeling the squad into a hive-like mind. If soldiers were proficient, the Krey relied on ruthless efficiency, zealots for death. Bile rose in Judas¡¯s throat the more he thought about them. He didn¡¯t like the Krey, but he held no dispassion for them either. He sympathized for their kindred spirits in regards to exile but no further. He could vividly recall the soldiers of the bloodlust from the war and the carnage they wrought.
¡°Why in the gods¡¯ names would you do that?¡±
For reasons far worse than you realize, Staell declared. I go to set them in motion for when the war starts. By the time the council realizes they are at war, it will be far too late. Xilor will be on their doorstep before they can muster forces. The Dark Lord will be at their walls before reality sets in unless we can slow him early enough. Thus, enter the Krey.
¡°Isn¡¯t there another way?¡±
Yes, of course, there¡¯s always another way, which leads to many more deaths. Do you want that on your conscience? You know what war is like, what it does to people, who is affected, and not just the soldiers. How many people will be displaced, forced to flee their homes in the wake of his army?
Judas sighed noisily. Staell gave too many points to ignore. He couldn¡¯t let his personal feelings impede what was right, even if lawfully wrong. On that thought, Judas advised, ¡°You do realize what you¡¯re asking them to do is treason. They¡¯ll hunt them down.¡±
Judas let the conversation drop, knowing it would only rile him further. ¡°I¡¯ll wake her. You better wait till I call you.¡± Staell dipped his head in acknowledgment before Judas slipped back inside. He climbed the stairs to the second landing, slipping into the first room on the right down the left hall. Hesitant, he entered.
Soft sunlight filtered through the window. Judas stood inside the door. Her subconscious brushed against his. He took a moment to marvel at her ability to perceive and yet be asleep. He planned to wake her in the library in the Kothlere Castle, but that plan never manifested. The moral dilemma flared once more in him, and he wrestled with all the implications. He played with her like a god, deciding her fate. He did it with the best intentions, but he reminded himself that Xilor probably thought the same thing.
Mastering himself, he walked towards her, ready to wake her when her eyes snapped open. For a brief instant, Judas faltered, startled. She awakened, impossible as it seemed; he hadn¡¯t lifted the spell. He always noticed her struggle in the back of his mind, fighting to regain consciousness, but never successful. Now, she broke through, shattering the barrier with sheer force of will.
She lay quite still, eyes blinking rapidly, adjusting before she slowly sat up.
Judas tried to think back just now if he lost control over her at any point. He hadn¡¯t. She broke free. Judas smiled to himself, giddy with excitement. Someone his equal in aptitude, he wouldn¡¯t ever be alone. He knew an opportunity to train her right stared him in the face. She could be someone the youth idolized, a hero for a new generation they didn¡¯t fear like most feared him. With great power like hers came the seductive pull to do as one wished, and the knowledge none could stop you. He pushed the thought aside. He¡¯d worry if the situation warranted it.
¡°Good morning,¡± Judas breathed, finding his voice at last. She turned to him, her amber eyes going wide. ¡°I imagine you have a lot of questions, yes?¡± He stifled a smile, noting the similarities between the question he posed and those of his old master, Fife Doole, who always spoke in a similar fashion.
In silence, she let her gaze linger on him, intent on not responding. Judas noted the fear on her face. He understood. She glimpsed a stranger and woke in a strange place, and probably the last thing she remembered was the chaos when they saved her.
¡°Do you understand me? You must still be in shock from the whole ordeal,¡± he reasoned, reassuring himself more than her.
Now, her eyes darted everywhere around the room, frantic and quick, never more than a few moments on anything, but always returning to him.
The fight-or-flight mode, he recognized.
Her breathing was erratic, her pulse quickening from adrenaline. Judas knew it would be a matter of time before she got in control of her body and emotions. He backed away from her so he would not trigger her inevitable flight reaction; he didn¡¯t want to seem like a threat.
I don¡¯t need someone else to think of me that way.
Her pulse slowed, her breathing turned rhythmic and natural. Her lips parted, and a croaking voice spoke.
¡°Water.¡±
Judas withdrew his wand, summoned a mug and poured water from the tip. When he handed the mug to her, he was impressed she didn¡¯t react to his use of abilities. Perhaps she hadn¡¯t noticed, or didn¡¯t care, or maybe she accepted it. Maybe shock? Another thought, his gamble paid off, and the Essence Transference worked.
¡°Where am I?¡±
¡°You¡¯re in my home: the Lakayre Manor near the city of Ralloc.¡±
¡°Ral-lock? I remember, the capital of Sonkol.¡±
¡°Yes, my dear, you are correct. Good!¡± He smiled. Tension eased out with his smile, almost a sigh of relief. ¡°Here are some clothes for you,¡± he offered. He picked them up out of the chair near the window and lay the clothes on the corner of her bed. ¡°Please, dress. I¡¯ll be downstairs. When you¡¯re ready, come down. A visitor came to see you. I¡¯m sure you have many, many questions, and I¡¯ll answer what I can. The timing is a bit sensitive, but we¡¯ll take it in stride.¡±
He smiled at her and left the room.
Chapter 9: The Betrayer & Chapter 10: Julie
The Betrayer traveled as light-footed as possible, heading south with all haste, facing the two setting suns: Apor and Praema. The power to teleport long distances like others eluded him, but he managed the ability over short distances. These little hops took hours, if not days, off his traveling. He needed a journeyman and one of his porting stones.
Not too far ahead, just north of the Corridor of Cruelty, was Cape Gythmel. He could acquire a porting stone there and rest up before continuing. Everyone who traveled through Gythmel was grateful for the small town, regardless of the proximity to the Corridor.
The deadline pressed down on him; a proverbial lynch tightening around his throat, the Dark Lord holding the rope. Deadlines were a common occurrence for him, Xilor always made sure he knew where the line lay, but unreasonable? Logic ruled Xilor, regardless how foul. The Betrayer never followed him willingly. The cloying assurance of power almost made the choice worth it, reveling in Xilor¡¯s shadow, and the promise his power would one day be his.
His hope for Xilor¡¯s power came after he betrayed everyone, turning his back on his former life. Now, regret turned his thoughts to that fateful night, Xilor standing before him, a towering wraith, a dark blemish in the night. If he had to make the choice again, he¡¯d make the same, but was contrite about letting himself fall into a position of weakness. Though rather contradictory, his reasons were good. The blood of innocence would be on his hands. He did what he needed, even if unforgivable.
Tutelage at the feet of the dark lord had been both horrifying and eye-opening. The magics he performed traumatized him, things other great wizards never did, not even Judas Lakayre.
Judas.
Bile rose in his throat. He hated Judas almost as much as he hated himself.
No, that¡¯s not true. Not anymore.
He mentally kicked himself, chaffed, even his anger denied him. His hatred for Judas abandoned him long ago, his self-loathing guaranteed that. Once the dark lord¡¯s facade of power dropped, he turned his hate towards him. Xilor transformed him from a man of power to a tired, sniveling lackey under tyrannical feet, searching for scraps, holding his breath. But he never prayed for death. What kind of life did he give up for this one?
One that allows you to look at your reflection every morning, he reminded himself.
Service to Xilor wasn¡¯t an equal trade; both sides didn¡¯t give and receive. it was all one-sided, Xilor¡¯s side. Immeasurable remorse for his decision weighed him down. Death by his own hand would be a reprieve if his master went back on his word. With death so close to him that fateful night, he was emboldened, and the dark lord granted him one boon: he wouldn¡¯t kill for Xilor. With the innocent out of the equation, Xilor held no power over him, he would¡¯ve never joined him.
Death would be his choice.
He knew why he sided with Xilor, and it pained him. His loathing for Judas Lakayre nor his discontent with the Kothlere Order was to blame. The real reason¡ªthe reason he hated himself and couldn¡¯t live with his shame¡ªwas cowardice.
But the children still lived, and he had a duty to fulfill.
He trudged on, til late into the night, where he fell with weariness. Only then could he escape the consequences of his actions until the suns rose again.
Chapter 10: Julie
The elderly man exited her room, leaving her alone.
¡°Where am I?¡± The question tumbled in her head.
¡°You are in my home: the Lakayre Manor near the city of Ralloc,¡± came the gentle answer.
Lakayre Manor? He must be Lord Lakayre.
The proper etiquette came to mind, remembering she shouldn¡¯t call him by his birth name unless he gave permission.
What title do I use? Arysto? Lord? I don¡¯t remember learning this.
The knowledge was present, but not the memories.
She stared at the door for a handful of heartbeats. Still sitting on the bed, she took a moment to survey her surroundings. The room she slept in, though spacious, was humble in adornments. Stained mahogany wood covered the floor, a complementing cream-colored rug spread beneath the bed, and the windowsill matched in hue. A peaceful room, comfortable, and the situation could have been much, much worse.
It¡¯s not the first time I woke up and couldn¡¯t remember how I got there. Or is it? An odd sentiment to identify with, yet somehow it rang with truth. I¡¯m pretty sure I didn¡¯t sleep with him.
The bed in which she slept was adorned with a red comforter. Her attention drew to the room¡¯s illumination. The lamp beside her bed, wick-less. After searching for the wick, she touched the lamp and light surged in a ball of magic. The higher she touched the stand, the brighter the illumination. The converse also true. Once she climbed out of the bed, she crept through the room, opening drawers and cabinets and spying the sprawling countryside through the window.
A potted plant¡ªan ivy or something similar¡ªsat on a handcrafted wood table, which looked as though it dated back several hundreds of years. The beautiful plant caught her eye again, lush and vibrant, verdant. The bark near the base of the plant mirrored the floor in her room.
She padded around the room, slow and deliberate, pausing to admire the peculiar art hanging on the wall when a shudder ran down her spine. The painting was dark and swirling, sinister, with a diminished source of back-lighting. It didn¡¯t matter to Julie what the artist intended to portray, it reminded her of what happened before¡ªbefore she came here, wherever here was.
Her first memory. She remembered a creeping chill and shuddered again.
The black shadow morphed in and out of the fog, seeming to suck the life out of her and feed on her terror. Its gurgling voice and the sinister, hypnotic laugh filled her head even as it died. She recalled the swirling dark clouds with vivid clarity. The statues came to life with swooping creatures and razor claws.
As she remembered these images, a panic came over her, and her breath quickened and came in short, ragged gasps. Her forehead prickled with sweat. With hurried steps, she reached the chair near the window, closing her eyes and clenching her fists, fighting to regain control. Her breathing slowed, and the suffocating feeling abated. Spying the clothes the elderly man left for her, she decided it was best not to remain alone, least she be haunted by her nightmares. With haste she dressed, struggling with the many robes laid out for her, then hurrying downstairs.
¡°Come in,¡± the man beckoned as she peered down the stairs into the sitting room. He stood, his hands clasped behind his back, waiting.
¡°Good morning, sire,¡± she greeted in the customary fashion. She perceived a smile of pride flicker across his face. Descending the last few stairs, she stopped at the base. Uncertainty clouded her eyes. ¡°Forgive me, sire, but I don¡¯t know who you are, not really.¡±
¡°I know, my dear. As I stated earlier, I¡¯m Judas Lakayre, and this is my manor. But we¡¯ll get to that in a moment. What else can you tell me?¡± He seemed excited but tried to hide it.
The thought of the dark clouds and hooded menace flashed through her mind, but she didn¡¯t want to remember. ¡°I can¡¯t recall,¡± she stated, pushing the memory aside. ¡°I can¡¯t remember anything certain, vague images and strange feelings, flashes of memories that don¡¯t make any sense. Can you explain it to me, sire?¡±
¡°All in good time, my dear.¡± His kind smile put her at ease. ¡°First, I want you to know I¡¯ll answer anything you ask to the best of my abilities. Second, as I said before, timing is a bit of an issue. A precarious situation has arisen though no one else seems to think so. Nothing¡¯s worse than trying to save people who don¡¯t wish to be saved. But it does warrant most¡ªif not all¡ªof my attention. Please, don¡¯t feel you¡¯re of no value to me. You¡¯re invaluable and precious. I¡¯ll spend as much time as I can with you. Now,¡± he caught his breath, ¡°your guest awaits.¡±
¡°Staell, you may come in,¡± the man prompted.
Julie peered over his shoulder, training her eyes on the front doors. As they opened, a white stallion¡ªif it could even be called a stallion because of its enormous size¡ªwalked in. Its head near-parallel to the floor, ducking to clear the low entrance. A single horn shot out of his forehead, a crystalline spire worthy of celestial beings. Julie stood transfixed.
It¡¯s mammoth!
Julie deemed herself small and insignificant in its presence. She noted his emerald eyes.
With reverence, she neared him, her amber eyes scrutinizing, drinking in every detail. The horn, she noted, didn¡¯t come from within the skull but rather like an exterior bone on the unicorn¡¯s face. The extra bone structure and the horn itself was made of a crystalline composition, a formation of diamond.
She circled the creature, hand extended, her touch light and soft. The unicorn¡¯s translucent skin responded, radiating light in plumes like gentle, crackling energy absent of sound. Several times, she lowered her gaze to give her eyes a reprieve from the harshness of his luminance. Bizarre, yet fascinating. She could peer through the unicorn¡¯s epidermis, his skin like a jellyfish, but not all the way through. He was full of light, his core white, and opaque. She circled back to his face.
The unicorn bowed his head. Greetings, Madam Julie. I¡¯m Staell, he said in her mind. I trust I meet your satisfaction?
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¡°Oh ¡ my ¡ Shades of the Underworld, he talks!¡± exclaimed Julie. ¡°Well, sort of¡¡± She glanced back at Judas with earnestness, wondering if it was some trick.
¡°He speaks, like all intelligent races of this realm,¡± the warlock instructed. ¡°Staell¡¯s here to give you a gift.¡±
¡°A gift?¡±
Yes, Madam Julie, Staell said. A gift. I¡¯ll give you a tress of my hair for your wand. I foresee you to have an affinity to heal. Should I ever need, I hope you bring your skill to my aid.
He nodded, and Judas proceeded.
He lifted a handful of his tail, cut a section with his knife, and held it up for Staell¡¯s inspection. Julie marveled when the hair grew back, near-instantaneous.
Staell dipped his head. I must be going now, pressing matters with the Heir of the Krey. Madam Julie, it was a pleasant opportunity to meet you. May the Spirit of Fortune smile upon you. Good day.
On his way to the door, he turned back to face her again. Do you by chance know what your name means in Ucoric?
She shook her head. ¡°No.¡±
Perhaps someday I¡¯ll share it when you are ready. As he left, Judas closed the doors with a wave of his wand.
¡°You are a Rumigul user, aren¡¯t you? A sorcerer.¡±
¡°Warlock,¡± he corrected.
¡°Makes sense. Warlock Lakayre. Now, what do we do with his hair?¡±
¡°Now, my dear, we¡¯ll weave your wand.¡± Judas¡¯s gaze lingered on the door where Staell departed. Julie sensed something Staell said bothered him, but he kept the matter to himself. Was it before he entered the house or during the greeting?
¡°Weave? Isn¡¯t wood used for wands?¡± Julie voice, breaking into his thoughts. ¡°How can you weave a wand if it¡¯s made out of wood? I thought tapestries and cloth were weaved.¡±
¡°Wands are made of wood, most of them, at least. Xilor fashioned his out of metal. Some wizards transformed their old ones into New Era wands. Let¡¯s begin, shall we?¡± He pulled a box from inside his robes and removed what appeared to her to be a tiny, silk wing with fine lines of diamond running throughout. Holding it up to the light as if to inspect it, he connected the hairs of Staell¡¯s tress to its tip.
¡°What is that?¡± Julie queried. She shifted closer for a better view; her interest piqued.
¡°This,¡± he held the wing up to show her a better view, ¡°is the wing of a fairy. While you slept, I had a visit from her, and she died late in the night. Rumors of your arrival reached her ears, and she asked me about you. She died believing you¡¯ll fulfill their prophecy.¡±
¡°Prophecy?¡±
¡°The fairies believe a powerful mage is coming from beyond the realm of magic and will be a perfect balance of light and dark.¡± He continued working, twining the fine hairs on the fragile wing with the aid of wizardry. ¡°The foretelling is an ancient one, set in place long before I created the gateway.¡±
¡°What does that have to do with me?¡± she asked, brow arched.
¡°Perhaps everything, perhaps nothing. The second part is that an elder fairy will give a wing to the mage. If the mage is the one, this will forever link the two races together and will open the mage to a greater power than any who came before.¡±
¡°Greater power? Can you elaborate?¡±
¡°They never say what this greater power is. ¡®Great power¡¯ is a broad term used in their language, much like ¡®love¡¯ is in ours. It¡¯s subjective. There are many types of love: intimate, unconditional, brotherly. It is the same with power: absolute, specialized, Imperial, the list is endless. Who can say what it is? Another curious thing about their myth is the word ¡®mage¡¯, either male or female.¡±
¡°How does this relate to me?¡± Julie asked again. She searched his face, watching his expressions while she tuned her ears to his words.
¡°The elder fairy believe you to be this mage. You¡¯re not the first Wcic to come back from the other realm; you are the thirteenth. Every time one comes back, a fairy chooses to give up a wing for their wand. The one who died last night, her last wish was that one of her wings be given to you. You¡¯re fortunate, my dear.¡± He paused, a shrouded visage crossed his face, hesitating.
¡°What? Say it,¡± Julie pressed.
He sighed. ¡°By giving you this wing, the fairy is forcing the prophecy into fruition. An unfortunate circumstance. By giving you this, the fairies might be condemning you to certain death.¡±
¡°How do you know?¡± she gasped, horrified. ¡°What makes you think I¡¯ll die?¡±
¡°I don¡¯t, to be honest. But I can tell you, based on fact, your chances of survival¡¡± He sighed again. ¡°Who am I to make such a call?¡±
¡°Why would you say such a thing?¡± A storm rumbled in her stomach, making her nauseated; she fought the urge to throw up.
How can he be so calm while standing there and sentencing me to death? He¡¯s cold and lacks a soul! Where¡¯s his remorse?
As if he read her thoughts or sensed the emotions boiling within her, he spoke. ¡°I don¡¯t mean to be indelicate, my dear. Only two other would-be wizards lived long enough to form bonds with the fairies, but they did not last long. One went mad with sudden abilities, all raw and unrefined. All twelve wizards ¡ passed.¡±
¡°Passed? What do you mean passed?¡±
¡°Passed on; they¡¯re with us no more.¡±
She searched for the right words. A cascade of fear and panic washed over her. ¡°What if I don¡¯t accept the wing? I wouldn¡¯t die, right?¡±
Judas shook his head, a slow, sad movement. ¡°No, you¡¯d still die. This wing is bonded to you through the fairy¡¯s intent; a magical link can¡¯t be broken. Should you choose not to take what someone sacrificed their life to give you, it¡¯d kill you.¡±
He paused, turning his full attention to her. ¡°There are two types of powerful bonds we don¡¯t fully understand. The first, a selfless relinquishment causes a link. If it¡¯s broken, it becomes a curse so powerful it kills the one who broke it. If someone sacrifices their life for you,and you find yourself in mortal danger, the backlash unleashed by the sacrifice would destroy whoever put you in mortal peril. In other words, if I died saving you from certain death at the hands of a sheol, and that sheol turned to kill you after my death, the conjury from my selfless relinquishment would protect you.
¡°The second bond would be if someone sacrifices their life for you, and you refuse their gift or their bond. It would destroy you. Wizardry always costs something, and most of the time it comes from within. In the case of life being the price¡ªand there is no greater price than that¡ªthe penalty is as severe for wasting it.
¡°You must understand,¡± he added, hesitant. He leaned towards her. ¡°This is something even I don¡¯t understand. I don¡¯t know what causes it, just that it is. This is an ancient, powerful magic, more powerful than anything we could muster. If I truly am the most powerful warlock alive today, I¡¯m insignificant next to the wielders of ancient enchantments. Legend says Hagen wielded this great and terrible power.¡±
He chuckled to himself. ¡°I used to joke about ancient witchcraft cursing the Lakayre bloodline. I guess I shouldn¡¯t joke about something I don¡¯t understand.¡±
¡°So, I must accept the wing?¡±
He nodded, solemn.
¡°Did you know she would do this?¡± Julie rubbed an itch away from the tip of her nose.
¡°Yes and no. As of late, the elder fairies vowed not to give into the pressures of the divination, thus nullifying it. I assumed all believed the same, but I misjudged one. Her belief must be deeply rooted. I hope for her sake, as well as yours, she was right.¡±
He saw the expression of confusion on her face and continued. ¡°There are those among the fairies who don¡¯t believe in the ancient soothsaying. When they give up a wing, most do so because they¡¯re chosen, not because they volunteered. Last night, this particular fairy,¡± he held the wing up for emphasis, ¡°volunteered because she didn¡¯t want to take the chance the prognostication would go awry. In short, a selfless sacrifice; her life for yours.¡±
¡°What will it do?¡±
¡°Like I said before, it will go towards your wand and become a part of its core. Your wand will be an interesting one. I have never heard of a wand possessing a dual core of unicorn hair and a wing of a fairy. With both, you¡¯ll have a connection with the unicorns, but the strongest bond will be between you and the fairies. What these bonds will entail, I don¡¯t know.¡±
¡°What do you mean a connection?¡±
¡°Well, from now on, you¡¯ll be one with them, and they with you. They¡¯ll come when you call for aid, and you will go to them when they beckon. You¡¯re their Head of Creatures, and they¡¯re your guardians.¡± He returned his attention to the unicorn hairs and the wing, tying them together.
¡°Their Head of Creatures? Am I to be a queen?¡±
He chortled at her remark. Shaking his head, he answered. ¡°When a catastrophe happens, you¡¯re responsible for them, to help search for the deceased or missing and help them back to an ordinary way of life.¡± He smiled. ¡°There we are. Ready to begin?¡±
Reaching into his robes, he withdrew his wand. With a flick of his wrist, the potted plant in her room popped into existence right before her eyes. He reached out, plucking it out of the air before attaching the wing and hairs.
¡°It¡¯s customary for the one who wishes to create the wand to do this, but exceptions must be made.¡±
The plant uprooted with a pointing of his wand and floated in the air; the hairs dangled with a lazy list as it moved. Judas tapped both the left and right sides. He stretched his left hand out, palm up, beneath the ivy. It gave a slight shudder, immobilized. With the tip of his wand, he pointed to the top of the plant. He tapped once, the ivy and hair twisted in opposite directions. Pulling his right hand away, he left his hand beneath, the twisting plant hovering above. Soon, the ivy, wing, and hairs, spun too fast for Julie to perceive other than a blur. A pale white light flickered into existence at the tip and grew brighter, working down the length.
Abruptly, the spinning stopped; a less-than-alluring wand floated before her eyes, spinning, a listless tumble, carrying the same dark color as the potted plant. The faintest undertones of white like Staell adorned the tip. Otherwise, the wand remained unremarkable.
Julie felt crestfallen at the lack of magnificence. She expected something more. Her wary glance prompted a nod from the warlock.
She reached out, cautious; her fingers brushed the newly formed wood. At her touch, the same white glow reappeared but faded when she snatched her hand away. Again she reached out, but this time, she grasped the base with her fingertips. The wand glowed again. Transfixed, it changed at her touch, her essence imprinting, binding them together.
At the base, a crisp midnight blue materialized with pinpricks of startling white and silver, reminding her of a cloudless night sky and twinkling stars. The deep blue faded up the length, changing to cobalt, sky blue, cyan, and the tip crowned in the purest of whites, like fresh snow.
The glow faded, the binding ritual complete. She couldn¡¯t help but smile, pleased beyond measure.
Breathtaking!
¡°This, my dear, is your wand!¡± She noted the pride in his voice.
¡°It¡¯s stunning. Thank you¡¡±
¡°Congratulations on your wand. Now, we must be off. We¡¯ve lingered too long.¡±
¡°Isn¡¯t this your home?¡±
¡°Yes, but a tale for another time. I need to procure an item, a book. Pack a bag in the room where you woke. There are extra sets of robes in the closet and the drawers.¡±
Julie eyed him for a moment, knowing he refrained from telling her everything. She didn¡¯t appreciate his lie, even by omission. Her heart fluttered with mild anxiety. She became acutely aware of her breathing, how it thundered in her ears. What was she missing?
She swallowed, finding her voice. ¡°What book?¡±
His head tilted slightly to the side. ¡°I¡¯m rather secretive about this one. I¡¯ll tell you later, I promise, but we must hurry.¡±
She turned to the stairs, taking them two at a time but without haste. His words came back to her as she climbed. ¡°¡®I do not mean to be indelicate, Julie. Only two other would-be wizards lived long enough to form bonds with the fairies, but they didn¡¯t last long. One went mad with power, all raw and unrefined.¡¯¡±
She reached the top of the stairs. The words tumbled through her head, furthering her anticipation of misfortune. Would she, too, pass?
What was the look he gave Staell? she wondered.
Something troubled him, and she desired to find out what it was. Perhaps she could broach the subject when they arrived wherever they were going. She yearned to trust him; he seemed like a nice man, but she was leery. What did she really know about him? He vexed her by holding back.
She held her wand up, and a smile spread across her face. For a moment, happiness returned, drowning out her worries. With alacrity, she complied with his wishes and started to pack.
Chapter 11: Dlad City
Dlad City, a stark dissemblance from the crowning jewel of Ralloc, was rarely visited by Judas. Dlad, though smaller, increased every time he returned, and he marveled at the growth and development. Ralloc wallowed in its rigid ways whereas Dlad City adapted to change. Judas considered himself Rallocan by nature, and while he wasn¡¯t as pretentious as most in the capital, he was more like them than he cared to admit. He found comfort with his choice, and like all Rallocans, lacked conformity during changing times. Private matters should remain in confidence.
Julie walked beside him, her eyes round, her head swiveling back and forth, taking in the sights. Dlad City was the first metropolitan area she¡¯d visited and kept ogling at the size.
He smiled. If she only knew the size of Ralloc.
People moved from the capital to the flourishing urban areas. But for every family leaving Ralloc, ten more arrived, hoping to lay claim to a more prosperous life. Judas, with Julie in tow, walked down the main road and compared it to the opulent metropolis to the north; he noted the foot-traffic was scant.
Wide buildings of white stone and wood hedged the main thoroughfare, something else you wouldn¡¯t witness in Ralloc. Lack of space required architects to build up not out. Light, merry music trembled through the early morning air, and clumping dirt churned in their wake, sticking to their boots. A few robes from his home fit Julie¡¯s small frame, and he was glad she wasn¡¯t as small as Meristal, but he¡¯d need to buy her a few before the journey.
While Julie took in the sights, her head roving, he did, too, but searched for something else entirely. On the Other Side, he¡¯d been tracked down and attacked, and someone either planted or let a sheol slip through. The surprise attack, in hindsight, was difficult for Judas to ward off; from lack of need, he hadn¡¯t truly fought since the Wizard¡¯s War. But they¡ªwhoever they were¡ªmanaged to track him down in Ralloc, too. Arriving any later might¡¯ve spelled doom for Julie if she was the intended target. In that regard, he was still unsure. To keep them both safe, they set to the road.
Off to the east side of town, Judas spied newer buildings in the distance, a progress proceeding at a crawling pace aimed at the center of town. The ingenuity of progress created many jobs for younger men of the city: a prosperous cycle.
The air was warmer than Ralloc¡¯s, a city which snuggled against the Vikal Mountains, swathed in a constant, cool breeze coming down from snow-capped mountaintops. Judas¡¯s stomach grumbled, the scent of breakfast reaching his nostrils. The aroma of eggs, bacon, bread, and various fruits like oranges and bananas caused Julie¡¯s stomach to echo his.
¡°We¡¯ll break our fast once we reach our destination,¡± he promised.
Julie smiled. ¡°I can wait. I wish we were in Ralloc, and I could see it.¡±
¡°It may be some time before that happens,¡± he cautioned.
¡°Tell me about it.¡±
His eyes remained forward, locked on their destination. A few dozen people milled about through the street, ghosts for all it mattered. Judas, used to traveling through the packed streets of Ralloc, weaved through with ease.
¡°There¡¯s a long, sloping street leading straight from the external gate to the front doors of the castle, home of the Kothlere Council. While a straight line forms from the inner gate to the castle, the gates can be closed between tiers, the outer roads and gates winding serpentine through the city. The entire city lies in a valley and against the Vikal Mountains. Over the years, as the city prospered, it stretched further up the mountain before turning its expansion into the valley. Every few legends, they construct a new exterior wall, sometimes as brief as half a dozen ages because Ralloc waxed beyond its borders.¡± He smiled and peeked over his shoulder. Julie walked behind him, her eyes on him, her expression a mix of interest and waiting. He turned to the front and continued.
¡°The original outer gate, which is now the innermost gate, leads directly to the castle. This wall represents a line, and about five to seven percent of the city¡¯s current population lives enclosed by the inner wall, noble and minor noble houses. The outer limits of the city¡ªrelative to the castle¡ªexpand in a massive two hundred and seventy-degree arc, almost an entire sphere. It¡¯s a sight to behold.¡±
¡°Sounds like a plague,¡± Julie snorted, derisive.
Judas chuckled at her dark sarcasm. An interesting perspective laced with a tinge of truth. The warlock heard the titters of women and glanced in that direction, aware that Julie mirrored him. Prostitutes waved at a younger gentleman walking in the street; he dipped his head, waved, and promised to frequent their establishment later. The beautiful, tantalizing ladies blew him kisses. The elder turned his face forward, a frown forming. Try as he might, he couldn¡¯t help holding his nose up to the wenches, his pretentiousness creeping forward. He never understood how women could stoop so low, but as the adage went: prostitution was the first profession.
Judas continued with his recounting. ¡°Ralloc¡¯s a towering city with stacking shops, hotels, brothels, and apartments. An unfortunate side effect of rapid and continuous expansion required engineers to build up. The outer wall still lays incomplete, and with the culmination of the Wizard¡¯s War, I doubt we¡¯ll ever see it finished. You never realize how much two-thirds of a completed wall is an eyesore.¡±
They passed storefronts hugging the broad street to the left and right. Hammers clanked in the distance, pinging off armor or weapons. Shops of cloth, groceries and bakeries, and other outlets hedged Julie¡¯s vision as she drank in every detail.
¡°Ralloc isn¡¯t beautiful. Such a word would be unjust; it¡¯s majestic. Steeple roofs and spires reached for the sky, daring to soar where the birds fly. Each spring, the few, daring and brave climb atop the spires and paint the clay shingles after the long, hard winters. You won¡¯t find finer manicured lawns; the hired help turn gardening into impeccable artistry. Stained glass was all the rave two ages ago, and you¡¯ll find many colored windows. The Ralloc Library is massive; a monolith seemingly chiseled out of one piece of marble, a vast distinction to the rest of the sweeping city.
Judas glanced back at Julie, her eyes intent as she painted the picture in her mind, marveling at the magnificence of his recounting.
Without stopping to shop or visit the businesses, she didn¡¯t see much as they headed for the north end of town. The muffled tap-tap, tap-tap of horse¡¯s hooves pattered on the hard packed roads. Men dressed in the finest robes meandered down the road, and merchants stood on porches hugging their emporiums, awaiting patronage, hoping for coin. Julie¡¯s wandering stares took in the pedestrians, noting the absence of any race other than wizardkind, and she voiced this to Judas.
¡°Pedestrians in Ralloc are of every race; far more common in larger communities than here in Dlad City. I¡¯m sure a few goblins are here, maybe even some centaurs, but in this part of Ernrul, wizardkind is predominate. When we make it back to Ralloc, prepare to get jostled a bit. Navigation can be difficult at best with all the pushing, running, and people squeezing through the press of bodies, cracks, and avenues. Because of the difficulty in navigating the crowded streets, Ralloc constructed multi-tiered skywalks of stone between buildings to accommodate for so many citizens.¡±
¡°Sounds a bit too busy for me,¡± she admitted.
Judas understood the sentiment, exhaustion a constant companion in Ralloc.
¡°How many people live in the capital?¡±
¡°Last census was about an epoch ago¡ªa hundred years. The city alone is two million, but we broke five million for the entire domain, from Ralloc to the Corridor of Cruelty and all the way to the Golden City. The census didn¡¯t include children under the age of fourteen as they are not the Age of Maturity.¡±
¡°Please, please,¡± a call came from in front and to the right of her. She glimpsed a gray skinned goblin hobbling in her direction. ¡°Look at my wares! I like, you buy!¡± He held a vase up to her for inspection. Judas kept walking, but Julie¡¯s steps faltered, a mistake Judas made in his youth. Once you slow down, you will be lucky to leave alive. But she slowed not for the goods but to inspect the goblin.
¡°No, thank you.¡±
¡°So cheapest; I like, you buy. Best wares anywhere, you ask satisfied customer!¡±
¡°No, thank you.¡± Julie pushed past him. The creature tried to grab her robe sleeve, but she brushed him off and the goblin stumbled, almost dropping his vase. He shouted something at her in his language. She continued to follow Judas but glanced back at the little being with intrigue.
They reached Traveler¡¯s Respite moments later, the door opening at their approach, a young boy opening from the inside. ¡°Oh, thank you,¡± Julie said as she entered behind Judas, granting him a smile. A front desk of hickory and brass greeted the travelers, the latter shined from the ample candlelight. A fire crackled in the room to the left; chairs and tables crowded the chamber and two dozen patrons ate their meal. A dark carpet of cobalt with narrow, crisscrossing crimson lines throughout covered the floor.
With the front counter lacking staff, Judas rang the small brass bell. He turned to regard Julie. ¡°Best if we don¡¯t use my real name. I¡¯m Willem Fossard, and you¡¯ll be my daughter. Willem and Cynthia Fossard.¡±
¡°Why not use your real name?¡±
¡°I¡¯d rather be safe.¡± A plump, short woman with curly orange hair and light, golden freckles came from the back room.
¡°Greetings this morning, good sire. Welcome to the Traveler¡¯s Respite. The two of ya¡¯? No Mrs?¡±
Judas shook his head. ¡°The two of us, no Mrs. We would like two rooms, please.¡±
¡°Very kind of you, sire, allowing your daughter her privacy.¡± She opened a ledger and dipped the calamus in ink. ¡°Your names?¡±
¡°Willem and Cynthia Fossard.¡±
¡°Oh!¡± the lady squeaked. ¡°Minor noble, how lucky we are! I hope you enjoy your stay with us. It¡¯ll be two bits a night and comes with two meals a day, breakfast and dinner. How many nights, Lord Fossard?¡±
¡°For now, let¡¯s do two.¡±
¡°Warlock Lakayre?¡± a strident voice called out. Judas froze, his shoulders tense. He turned his attention away from the plump woman, seeking out the voice. Todd, the writer, stood with his mouth gaping open. ¡°I didn¡¯t expect you until closer to midday.¡±
With a tight jaw, the warlock greeted him. ¡°Morning, Todd.¡± Judas glanced back to the woman at the counter, her mouth agape. He gave her a sheepish smile. ¡°Sorry, I didn¡¯t want to concern you, dear. If its any consolation, I¡¯m still minor noble.¡±
She paled further and nodded. Reaching between the outer and inner robe, procuring his coin purse, he pulled it free. He pushed eight copper bits forward. ¡°For the rooms,¡± and pushed five silver chips forward. ¡°For discretion.¡±
Her eyes flickered from his to the coins and back half a dozen times before she smiled and scooped up the money. ¡°Lord Fossard, your rooms are on the second floor, first one on the right and last one on the left. Sorry, these two rooms are the closest together.¡±
Judas flourished a kind smile. ¡°Those will do fine, my dear.¡± She passed two keys across the wood surface, careful not to make contact with him. The warlock ignored this, used to it by now.
He discovered Julie¡¯s fallen expression when he followed her glower to the dining room and the patrons inside. The warlock gleaned what she speculated. She thought the staring and talking was meant for her. Their gazes were placid at first, neither friendly nor scowling. Once the shock abated, suspicion and wariness greeted them, remiss to how the healthy regarded the contagious and infirm.
The looks of disgust were meant for him.
The stares riled her, a flush coming to her face. He sensed the bud of resentment. A titter of half-hidden laughter coming from a cluster of young women, a soft, breathy laugh. Others hid their whispers and smiles behind well-placed hands. Once, Judas felt much the same as Julie, but he learned to let go of the anger. It ate him up and turned him bitter. He¡¯d never be able to influence people or their way and wished closed minds came with closed mouths. Then again, he couldn¡¯t talk.
Julie took a step in the direction of the dining room, her intentions clear, but he held out a hand, snatching her by the arm.
¡°Pay no heed, my dear. Their laughs and whispers are for me, not you.¡±
¡°Why would they do that?¡± she asked, her face dark with anger.
¡°Because they are young, rich, and foolish.¡± He smiled and winked at her. ¡°Because they can.¡±
¡°I don¡¯t understand it!¡± she glowered at the group. She turned her attention to Judas but kept casting glances at them. ¡°There¡¯s nothing wrong with you! They¡¯re afraid. Cowards!¡±
¡°Fools often are. Only a fool can choose to abandon his folly, and a wise man would waste his breath trying to show them a path they aren¡¯t ready to walk. Forget about them.¡± He waved them off. ¡°It has to do with who and what I am, with the war. You are guilty by association, unfortunately, and therefore receive the same treatment.¡±
Julie mulled over his words and regarded the young man in their presence. The mentor moved to stand beside her, both facing Todd. ¡°Todd, this is my apprentice, Julie. Julie, this young man is Todd, a columnist for the New Suns Times. He¡¯s been hounding me for an interview for nigh a year, and I promised him I¡¯d oblige. His patient persistence is coming to fruition.¡±
Todd smiled, nodding absentmindedly, eyes darting between the two when he gave Julie his full attention. The two locked eyes, and she gave a polite smile, Todd melting before her like ice in a hot skillet. Judas felt the ripple of allurement between them, the faint, unseen stirring within his youthful associates.
The magelust.
The longer his apprentice and the scribe stared at each other, the stronger the pull. What passed off as infatuation would turn to full-blown lust for both of them, and quicker than they realized.
Judas spotted the glittering in Todd¡¯s eyes, the silent exchange between them, and sidled closer towards Julie, a protective gesture. She was his apprentice, and he needed to look out for her best interests. She wasn¡¯t ready to face this burden.
Knowing this would be a good time to break the two up, he reached into his coin purse and pulled out a gold coin. He handed it to her.
¡°A bright eye?¡± she exclaimed, her eyes going wide. They narrowed just as quick, concern on her face. ¡°What¡¯s this for?¡±
Judas smiled at her. ¡°We passed, at least, four tailoring shops on the way here. Have your measurements taken and two sets of robes made. Todd and I will need some time to at least start the process. We¡¯ll have more made when we reach our destination.¡± He glanced at the young man. ¡°In installments, okay?¡±
Todd shrugged, his blue eyes sparkling, happy the moment was coming to pass. Julie beamed and thanked Judas. He gave her a key to her room, the one closest to the stairs while he took the one at the end of the hall. Both watched her go.
¡°I think I¡¯m in love,¡± Todd whispered.
¡°No, probably not,¡± Judas said in a low, firm voice. ¡°Lust, that¡¯s all. If you¡¯re not careful, she might inadvertently destroy your mind and make you think you¡¯re a pretty little girl with pink bows in your hair. Come on, let¡¯s get this over.¡±
Judas climbed the stairs to the second floor with Todd in tow. He pushed open the door after throwing the bolt and entered the snug room. Nothing was ever like home, and judging from the modest bed, he had to agree. He tossed his pack on the thin turquoise quilt with gold stitching. Two pillows stuffed with feathers sat like pregnant sows at the head. A low flame flickered above a feeble bed of coals. The would-be fire lacked a comforting warmth.
¡°This is cozy,¡± Todd said behind him, eagerness in his voice. He pushed past the threshold, taking a seat in one of the brown, leather-covered chairs. He ripped open his small satchel and pulled out his supplies.
Why did I agree with this? Judas asked himself, and not for the first time.
The warlock¡¯s eyes flickered to the mantle and the crystal filled with a light brown, almost golden liquid. Though still the hour for breakfast, it was a good time for a drink. He hoped a strong, stiff brew lay within. Pouring himself a cup, he sniffed, a small smile coming to his face. He recognized the vanilla and peach scent, one of his favorites. It was as expensive as it smelled. Even the name, Parlaquay, exuded a cultivated allusion.
Parlaquay came from the south of Ralloc¡¯s control. The domains of Ralloc and Marcoalyn fell under the sway of the Kothlere, an influence ending at the Melodic Mountains in the south. On the other side was the Geim domain, where Parlaquay was made. He had a portend that if today didn¡¯t go well, he¡¯d be reimbursing the hotel for a devoured bottle.
Being in the same room with the kid agitated Judas¡¯s nerves, his presence dredging up feelings, thoughts, and memories best left buried deep in the recesses of his mind, or in the past where they ceased to exist. But the young man breathed life back into a haunted past. Todd scratched the parchment behind him.
Too late to back out now.
Judas reached down to the small sleeve next to the fireplace, pulling out two logs and setting them on the bed of coals, the dry bark catching fire with ease. Todd shifted, setting himself up, oblivious to the warlock.
Judas stood facing the growing heat. Sunburst clay tiles adorned the modest hearth¡¯s exterior. His shoulder-length hair hid his azure eyes like a curtain. His eyes glassed over as he revisited nightmares from long ago, absentmindedly pulling on his long, thick goatee. The war never gave him a choice; rising to the challenge doomed him to live a life nobody would have chosen. He wished to spare Julie a similar fate.
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Judas was a cursed man, a fact he was well aware. Ghosts of failures and past mistakes haunted his footsteps. A curse¡ªnot of luck or spirits from the Underworld, but rather cursed with a hard life; a quiet disgruntlement turned into calloused belief.
What else would anyone call it? Bad luck? No, if bad luck, it would¡¯ve stopped years ago. If karma, he would be emperor of the Ermaeyth by now. Instead, he lived apart.
He lifted his crystal glass to his lips and took a long, smooth pull of the vivid amber liquor. Sweet¡ªtoo sweet, unless mixed or sipped.
¡°Do you want one?¡± Judas offered, lifting his tumbler so his visitor could catch a glimpse. He never took his eyes off the fire. When no response came, the veteran took another swig. His guest made no noise other than the constant scratching. He pulled at the right side of his goatee, twisting, then straightening again. ¡°I¡¯m surprised you found my manor last night. Not many people are privy to the location.¡±
¡°You sound like you didn¡¯t expect me to find your home.¡±
Ignoring the comment too close to authenticity, Judas posed a question instead. ¡°How long did you wait again?¡±
¡°Until midnight.¡±
¡°That¡¯s dedication.¡±
Judas¡¯s guest was fast, sharp, and nimble on his feet. His resourcefulness and determination manifested in the fact he managed to track down his home. He expected the young man to either never find his house or, at least, take days. Nature sheltered Judas¡¯s manor with reclusiveness. Thick copses of trees and curtains of rolling hills obscured its presence, set deep in his property. Even if someone stumbled on his land by mistake, the chances of finding it were minimal.
Did he start researching the location yesterday morning?
His guest would bear watching in the future. Todd¡¯s career would soar, and Judas would help him, sub rosa, of course. He wanted Todd¡¯s success free of the stigma of his association.
The young man, a mere adolescent at best, tracked down the warlock time and time again. In fact, every time he went to Ralloc, the young man seemed to magically materialize. The boy had a true heart; Judas would give him credit. But he hated when people pestered him as soon as he entered the city. Some adored him for the gleaned facts from his past, but most feared him and his ability. Most could not muster the courage to talk to him. But this young boy¡¯s audacity made him believe and hope. Judas liked him, the youth with scarce a hair on his face. He desired neither fear or adoration; he aspired to be like every other normal citizen.
Sometimes it would be relieving to be a face in the masses.
As soon as he gave the thought life, he banished the idea. No, he wouldn¡¯t fall into self-pity. Fate bore him a warlock, and she always held her reasons close.
Fate¡¯s a fickle bitch on occasion, he mused before chastising himself for cursing. If not born the intended way, he would most likely be dead or enslaved. The elder stole a hasty glance at the young man. His head stooped over his parchment.
She would be a little older than him, a few seasons at best.
Judas let the rare, random thought enter his mind. Hurt helped bury the subject, a heart-shattering anguish: the loss of his daughter. She was breathtakingly beautiful from the moment he held her. Duty forced him away moments after her birth. The memory was all he had, the first and only time he held her.
I¡¯m sure all fathers think their daughters are beautiful.
Xilor¡¯s followers took her away from him. He made her killers pay with something worse than death: exile¡ªlike him, cut off from everything magical. Coincidentally, he just returned from that far-flung world. In the aftermath of his daughter¡¯s demise, rage consumed him. Those were dark moments in his history. Only Meristal could pull him back from the precarious ledge.
The Other Side; a world where time vanishes, lives pass infinitely quick compared to Ermaeyth. On the Other Side, lives lasted a tenth of what they do in the magical world.
The scratching of quill on parchment punctured the silence. Judas grew accustomed to the quiet, but the scraping thundered in his ears.
Now I understand what the librarian felt yesterday morning. He drove Sam, the librarian, insane with his incessant scratching.
A moment of panic flooded him. Having faced hordes in battle, he¡¯d rather be there than here with this boy! The veteran dodged the journalist for a long time, for professional reasons, but evasion didn¡¯t last forever.
¡°The people want to hear the truth!¡± the boy had told him habitually. With reluctance, Judas agreed.
The warlock¡¯s azure gaze swept up from the fireplace.
¡°Where do you want to begin?¡± the young man inquired, looking up. His eyes were pale blue under black hair.
¡°We can start by you giving me your family name. You¡¯re always hounding me but withheld your House name,¡± Judas replied. He hated delving into his life for the boy, but he did enjoy the spirit of the young columnist. In all fairness, he knew him as Todd, but he liked to tease him.
¡°I told you, Master Lakayre. I tell you every time you come to Ralloc, but you never listen to me.¡±
¡°What are you talking about? I only hear you flapping your gums as soon as I come into the city,¡± Judas replied, teasing him.
¡°Oh, you¡¯re right. You hear me, but you don¡¯t listen.¡± The younger man sighed and slouched forward.
Brass, kid, real solid. Judas smiled approvingly.
¡°I¡¯m Todd of House Wynters. I work for the New Suns Times, the paper published once a week in Ralloc. It¡¯s a job, but my passion is in inspiring stories, like yours, Master Lakayre.¡±
¡°You¡¯ve come to the wrong wizard for an inspirational story, Arysto Wynters,¡± he reproved.
¡°Why do you say that? How can your story be sad? You fought a war and came out unscathed.¡±
¡°Unscathed?¡± Judas tsked. ¡°You should know better. Didn¡¯t you pick up a history book in school?¡±
¡°Even I¡¯m smart enough to discern the gaps left out.¡±
The elder snorted. ¡°True enough. I¡¯ll give you what you asked for, my story, but I don¡¯t want it spun in a web of half-truths. Not by you or by anyone else. I don¡¯t want a whole city hating, fearing, or loving me; I want to be¡¡±
¡°Normal?¡± Todd interjected. ¡°Alone?¡±
¡°I¡¯m already alone.¡±
¡°Why do I have a feeling I¡¯m going to need a stiff drink for this?¡±
¡°¡¯Cause you are a smart boy.¡±
Judas gave him a lopsided, knowing-grin. He sat his glass on the hearth and pulled another, setting it by his and filled both, giving himself a more generous serving. With the conversation about to turn ugly, like walking through the Underworld, a little more alcohol couldn¡¯t hurt.
Might as well be jolly and buzzed.
Judas drank on rare occasions. With glasses in hand, he crossed the room and handed one to the young man.
Todd breathed deep, the peach and vanilla scent cloying in his nostrils, and took a cautious sip. His eyes widened in surprise as he smacked his lips. ¡°That¡¯s amazing! I never tasted anything like it! What is it? Where do you find something this good?¡±
¡°One of the privileges of traveling Ermaeyth, you experience all types of foods and drinks. It¡¯s called Parlaquay and hails from the Geim domain.¡± The elder smiled and patted his shoulder. ¡°There¡¯s a lot to tell,¡± he warned, switching subjects. ¡°Do you remember how to cast the spell so your quill will do all the work while you sit and listen?¡± He centered his chair opposite of the correspondent.
¡°I think so,¡± Todd replied, aware of the warlock out of the corner of his eye. After a few unsuccessful attempts, Judas removed his wand and did the deed. A heavy finality overcame the warlock as he sat.
¡°If you misquote me in your editing process, or lie about anything I say, it¡¯ll be bad for you,¡± Judas warned.
¡°Don¡¯t worry about me, worry about the publisher. When they read something they don¡¯t like, they want to adjust it, which alters the accuracy and reality of what is said.¡±
¡°Tell you what,¡± Judas said, pausing, thinking hard before trusting himself to speak. He leaned forward. ¡°If your publisher won¡¯t let you publish as is, and you can¡¯t find an honest one, I¡¯ll fund your work myself.¡±
¡°Really?¡± A big grin stole over the younger man¡¯s face. ¡°You mean it? You can¡¯t be serious! I always got the impression you didn¡¯t like me.¡±
¡°Quite right,¡± he denied. A small, harmless dishonesty. He didn¡¯t want Todd to realize he enjoyed his spitfire attitude and found it refreshing. If he did, he¡¯d never be free of the young man. He glanced at the Parlaquay on the hearth, debating on another taste before deciding to abstain. ¡°Where do you want me to begin my story?¡±
¡°Anywhere is fine. I could ask questions or you could just talk.¡±
¡°Whichever you prefer. I don¡¯t care, Arysto Wynters.¡±
The investigative author fired off at ballistic speed. ¡°Alright, we¡¯ll start with me asking questions and go from there. What¡¯s the year of your birth? What did your parents do for a living? Any family people don¡¯t know? What did you want to be when in your youth? How did the war affect your personal life? Ever been married? Are you seeing someone now? Tell me about your friends!¡±
¡°Whoa! Slow down! You¡¯re going to stroke out!¡± Judas admonished. ¡°Put a cork in the enthusiasm. Remember, you¡¯re a journalist now, a code of conduct is expected. Breathe. Compose yourself, and try again.¡±
Todd caught his breath and sat back in his chair, trying to show an aura of calm. The veteran knew the boy was bursting at the seams beneath the staged tranquility. ¡°Do you have any friends?¡± the young man tried again.
¡°No. Let me rephrase: Yes, one, sort of. It¡¯s complicated. She hasn¡¯t been around for a tour of years, but she returned last night. I¡¯m looking forward to spending time with her.¡±
¡°Who is she? Do I know her?¡±
¡°Yes. I believe you would know her from her public and political views, and her reputation for being one of the best Advocates of Law in Ralloc. She never fancied to be a politician or a lawyer, you know? After the atrocities of the Wizard¡¯s War, she told me the only frontier for new adventures belonged in the political arena. She thought it would be exciting to rebuild society after so much destruction. People in roles of authority found her views too drastic for the comfort, so she turned to law.¡±
¡°What¡¯s her name?¡±
¡°Meristal Raviils.¡±
¡°I know her!¡± Todd smiled in recognition. ¡°She¡¯s on assignment, a tour down south, right?¡± The journalist paused before moving on. ¡°Is it true she¡¯s an Appaerel?¡±
¡°Yes, she can change her appearance to whatever she likes.¡±
¡°A rare gift. I wonder where she got it? The gift is passed down through the bloodlines, but I¡¯ve never heard anyone in her family having it. Come to think, I¡¯ve never heard anything about her family. What does she look like without the changes? I mean, she can¡¯t be thatyoung, I thought she¡¯s your age?¡± Todd sheepishly pointed out.
Judas chuckled at Todd¡¯s awkwardness and reclined in his chair. ¡°Well, she never altered her features to make herself appear younger. She¡¯s the same as the day I met her, though a bit more wise. Enough about her, this is about me. Get on with it.¡±
¡°Any other friends?¡± Todd reclined in his chair, trying to mimic his interviewee.
¡°No.¡±
¡°Why not? What did you do to drive people away? Why don¡¯t you have many friends, Master Wizard?¡±
¡°Because you didn¡¯t use my official title. The Kothlere Council in its infinite wisdom wanted the people to fear others like me. I¡¯m the same as you. You should use my title, Warlock. If we went by an official title I don¡¯t possess, I¡¯d be Grand Maghai.¡±
¡°Boast much?¡±
¡°Boasting implies there isn¡¯t much truth to the statement. There is.¡±
¡°Why are you a warlock, Judas? Why is being one bad? What makes someone a warlock?¡± The writer leaned forward, his interest piqued.
¡°I can do things with magic others cannot. I can perform spells without uttering any words, incantations, songs or dances, or any other nonsense.¡± Judas waved his hand. ¡°I can use the same gift Hagen once used.¡±
¡°Who¡¯s Hagen?¡±
¡°Damn!¡± Judas leaned forward, coming out of his seat, dumbfounded for the third time in two days by the lack of education in the young generation. First, Sam the librarian, and now Todd. ¡°Don¡¯t they teach you anything in school anymore? I pity the ignorance of youth.¡±
¡°Sure, but I don¡¯t remember anyone named Hagen.¡±
¡°Don¡¯t worry about it; he¡¯s only the Father of Magic. It¡¯s not relevant,¡± Judas spoke with a touch of sarcasm. ¡°What¡¯s your next question?¡±
¡°Let¡¯s talk about your family. What are your feelings about your mom and dad and your late brother? What other family do you have?¡±
¡°I don¡¯t want to talk about my brother,¡± came the knee-jerk response; an automatic, defensive retort whenever someone broached the sensitive subject. ¡°Some things are better left buried in the past,¡± Judas breathed, maudlin.
¡°Master Judas, if you aren¡¯t willing to talk about anything, what are we doing here besides wasting our time?¡±
Brass and a point to boot, the war vet marveled. ¡°Point well said. My brother is my older twin. We don¡¯t share the same birthday but appear somewhat similar. That¡¯s all the commonality we had. The vast differences between us: our ambition¡ªwhat we sought out of life¡ªand our personalities. He was an extrovert, popular and well-liked. He loved the adoration more than he cared about school or learning. I, however, am an introvert. I knew I wouldn¡¯t receive the same treatment being second born, so I turned my attention to books, hoping one day I¡¯doutshine him.¡±
¡°Why wouldn¡¯t you be doted on?¡±
¡°I¡¯m not the first born. My father was a man of outdated traditions.¡± Judas twisted his goatee absentmindedly.
¡°Did you?¡±
¡°Did I what?¡±
¡°Outshine your brother?¡±
¡°Oh, yes,¡± Judas¡¯s regretful whisper came. ¡°In more ways than I care to admit. I forget you know nothing about me other than the Wizard¡¯s War, but once I was a man not so different from everyone else.
¡°My brother¡¯s ambitions sealed his political standings with the community. He sold me out trying to achieve the coveted office of consul. People are born warlocks, and I was one long before I entered the war. But the gospel leaked, so to speak. No one cared until they found out Xilor was a sorcerer¡ªlike a warlock but dabbles in questionable aspects of conjury, twisting it for malevolence. Xilor reigned death and destruction and Ralloc pleaded with me to stop him. After I had destroyed him in his current state, they exiled me.¡±
¡°This is great stuff,¡± Todd exclaimed with glee. The feather quill danced under invisible influence. Only when he turned his focus back to the warlock, he found his solemn face awaiting. Todd¡¯s smile faltered to a more serious expression. ¡°You don¡¯t realize how many people are going to want to read about you, about your life. They¡¯re going to know they don¡¯t need to be afraid of you,¡± he promised.
A ghost of a smile touched the veteran¡¯s lips. ¡°One can only hope.¡± His eyes drifted toward the window, pushing out with his essence, reaching out towards Julie. He found her with ease. Her potency radiant. He¡¯d need to teach her how to dampen it. Obscuring her aura would make her harder to detect. He would also need to help teach her how to block the magelust. The magelust responded differently to everyone and blocking it required self-discovery; though unteachable, instruction on dampening her aura would give her the foundation of where to start. He could help with that. Julie almost experienced the lust earlier with Todd in the lobby. Her power rippled at his gentle touch, a subconscious response. He wasn¡¯t even sure she felt it. Judas returned his attention back to the excited writer.
¡°What¡¯s your next question, young man? There¡¯s a lot of my life to cover¡¡±
¡°How did your brother die?¡±
Judas exhaled. Old, painful wounds opened again. ¡°He died in combat. The dark lord took him.¡±
¡°I thought you said your brother was a politician? If so, how did he get on the field of battle?¡±
¡°My clever brother understood image meant everything. In our youth, he never got caught misbehaving, always waiting until our father left for fields, or the teachers and adults were absent before he would antagonize me. The same can be said of his political career.¡±
¡°How do you mean?¡±
¡°Every once in a while, a moon turn, give or take, my brother came to the battlefields. He boosted low morale by making public appearances, shaking hands, and sometimes engaging in a small skirmish. The oddest part? He was on the battlefield the day before. I didn¡¯t expect him for at least another moon turn.¡±
¡°Why did he come?¡±
Judas angled towards the other, the intensity leaking from him, and Todd mirrored him. ¡°I always wondered myself. To make matters more interesting, the dark lord teleported into our midst, winking into existence, and sent a blast of energy, knocking down all those around him. I threw up a mage shield in time. For a second, a blink of an eye, my sight fell away from Xilor. When I turned to face him, I saw him kill my brother. The dark lord dissolved him into nothing. Xilor turned his scrutiny upon me and teleported away.¡± The elder snapped his fingers. ¡°Within my grasp.¡± He snapped again. ¡°My brother died.¡± He snapped a third time. ¡°And just like that, both gone.¡± He leaned back in his chair,and the young man did the same, albeit slower, letting the information sink in. ¡°But,¡± Judas broke the mounting silence, ¡°one good thing can be said about Xilor.¡±
¡°You¡¯re kidding, right?¡±
¡°Not at all, Todd; Xilor, while bent on destruction and no doubt mad, had ingenuity. It was often the creative backbone for many magical things we take for granted today.¡±
The journalist scoffed. ¡°Like what?¡±
¡°I learned to teleport from Xilor. I never even thought such abilities possible, to move between time and space so fast and across far distances near-instantaneously. In many ways, Xilor taught me, led me to the answers to stopping him. Most people cannot teleport from lack of power, but it¡¯s something we¡¯ve incorporated for all to use. Take journey-stones for instance, a device that allows you to teleport. Portals, too.
¡°Another invention you can thank Xilor for is the Psimond spell. Who knew communicating with other people on a flat surface was possible? We didn¡¯t know about it either. Imagine what we could learn from someone as ingenious as him, albeit without all the evil and devastation.¡±
Todd cleared his throat and cast his eyes about, looking for anything to help him change the subject. The veteran noticed his praising of Xilor made the columnist nervous. When nothing fell within the boy¡¯s sight, the atmosphere charged with tension. A solemn silence crept in the space between the two men. Judas scrutinized the young man as he squirmed, suffocating with dread, before glancing away.
The writer¡¯s eyes flickered back to the elder, noting his strayed gaze. A notion about Xilor struck him.
¡°If the dark lord held the power to teleport into your midst, why didn¡¯t he before? Why didn¡¯t he kill you? You¡¯re the much bigger threat.¡±
The warlock¡¯s eyes came back to the young man. ¡°I¡¯ve also wondered about that many times in the past. Perhaps Xilor didn¡¯t think much of me as a threat? Perhaps he mistook my brother for me? Or perhaps he aimed to show me that he could take me any time he wished. By killing my brother right in front of my eyes¡ªeveryone¡¯s eyes¡ªhe proved himself superior. Destruction of morale. The vulgar display of cogency worked in his favor. The ordeal shook me to the core. I¡¯ve never seen magic like that before or since.¡±
¡°If he killed you, the outcome would have been very different,¡± Todd surmised.
Judas¡¯s eyes flickered back out the window, finding his new apprentice. Excuses formulated to break off the interview. The writer¡¯s presence presented problems, a risky business having the boy here so soon after his return from the Other Side, and considering what he brought back with him: a Wcic and an enemy hounding his steps.
Perhaps it¡¯s best to cut the conversation short and reconvene at another time. It¡¯d keep him from stumbling over the situation.
He needed to secure Julie¡¯s safety and discover the mystery of his attackers. For all he knew, the council was behind it, even though Sedrus claimed they weren¡¯t. If they were, the decision was based in fear.
Most people feared Xilor¡¯s return, and with good reason, it was possible. Judas knew it more than probable. Coming back to life is a capability yet discovered, allowing a soul to come back, ripped through the pall of the Underworld. He wouldn¡¯t put the deed past the reach of the Dark Lord. Even the warlock admitted to much he didn¡¯t know or didn¡¯t want to.
Certainty settled over him, the probability his attacker was a devoted fanatic of Xilor¡¯s. But who gives the orders while the tyrant is away? His assailant was most certainly not the Dark Lord himself. He¡¯d know if he came back. Everyone would.
But he¡¯d need to be dead to resurrect.
All people feared what they didn¡¯t understand. Xilor was an entity beyond their comprehension. Judas wasn¡¯t sure he understood either, but better than most. An arrogant few didn¡¯t appreciate the abilities the dark lord once wielded. They now sat in seats of authority, hiding behind fancy titles, fearlessly oblivious to what they didn¡¯t understand.
Better to fear and approach with caution than to be careless to what can destroy you, Judas mused.
¡°Is something wrong?¡± the young man asked, breaking into Judas¡¯s thoughts.
¡°Hmm¡?¡± Judas blinked, reining in his thoughts. ¡°No, of course, not. Can¡¯t a warlock act a little suspicious? Adds to the mysterious aura.¡± His infectious smile made the correspondent smile, too. Judas needed to find a way to get rid of the reporter. ¡°Listen, Todd, can we convene at some other time? I haven¡¯t eaten breakfast, and I¡¯d be remiss not to give the majority of my attention to my apprentice.¡±
¡°Oh, sure,¡± Todd grumbled with evident disappointment.
¡°Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯m not dodging your questions, but I get cranky if I don¡¯t eat.¡±
¡°I understand.¡± Todd¡¯s tone showed he didn¡¯t. Judas thought it better to disappoint him now than suffer Todd¡¯s curiosity about his behavior.
¡°Todd, I promise you,¡± Judas spoke, laying a fatherly arm across the reporter¡¯s shoulders, walking him to the door, ¡°I won¡¯t take on another scribe until we complete your interview and you publish. That way, you are the first person to interview the crazy warlock. Sound agreeable?¡± He gave a winning smile, pouring on his charm.
¡°Alright,¡± Todd agreed, enthusiastic. He bid his farewells, the young man retreating down the stairs. Judas closed the door behind him and let out a sigh of relief. He turned and glanced out the window, finding Julie again. The urgent need to start her training festered. If he could feel her presence, others could, too. They might even use her to track him. He hoped whoever tracked them would be oblivious to this fact. Soon enough, they¡¯d slip through the Corridor of Cruelty, and no one could follow them through. They¡¯d be safe until they exited.
His stomach grumbled, reminding him that he and Julie needed to eat, and set off to find her.
Chapter 12: Outpost Dire鈥擳he Hive
Nestled behind the treacherous crags and crevices, high up in the Vikal Mountains, lay Outpost Dire. Snow drifted heavily in the winter, torrents of ice and snow flurries. The summers were pleasant, light rains in the spring, and cool breezes throughout.
Few dared to venture close to Outpost Dire; even fewer came willingly. The mysteries surrounding this place were as sharp as the jagged spires of encompassing rock. One thing all the rumors had in common was its nickname: the Hive.
Staell crested the last rise, his eyes falling upon the Hive and House Eti, the latter a school for the inhabitants. The school itself was raised four stories high, each floor added as the need arose, and built against the mountain to discourage an attack from behind. The giant, circular building held a diameter of fifty meters. House Eti lacked beauty and was built for one purpose: to house and train warriors for war. Every aspect was meticulously efficient, nothing used for vanity¡¯s sake. The building, if necessary, could be used as a last line of defense. A small town, the actual outpost, encroached the keep.
Steep, narrow stairs led up ten meters to the front doors. The optimal width served two purposes, the people of the Hive and choking an invading army. If an enemy managed to take the stairs, the width whittled the enemy¡¯s numbers down. A mock battleground doubled as a free-for-all for archers. The ground was called the ¡®killing field,¡¯ and all knew it well. The grounds were as wide as the school and twice as long. The mock battleground supplied numerous obstacles. Uneven ground, trenches, steps, chokepoints, and multidimensional platforms for fighting enemy above or below. Swords, hammers, axes, and pikes rang out every day come rain, sleet, snow, ice, or sunshine.
The clanging died abruptly when Staell came into view. The warriors gawked at the unicorn. Most had never seen one. Gawking was a natural reaction. One man came forward and dropped to a knee.
¡°Welcome to Outpost Dire, may you rest easy among your friends in the Hive. What¡¯s your bidding, master?¡±
Oblus Eti, Staell greeted him. The shock in the soldier¡¯s eyes was unmistakable.
¡°Oblus Eti.¡±
I¡¯ve come to speak with the Heir of Valin.
¡°And so you shall. Please, follow me.¡±
The warrior led Staell through the heart of the ¡®killing field¡¯ and up the steps to the massive iron doors of the keep. Inside, in the center of the room, was a training ring referred to as ¡®The Pit.¡¯ Onlookers and fighters lined the ring while they watched fighters in the slight depression in the floor.
Alcoves lined the outer walls, most used for housing weapons and armor, others used for small study areas. Two massive stair cases lined and curved with the walls and led to the second floor and beyond; their purpose only served the visitors. Many smaller staircases spiraled along the walls in strategic intervals. Doors leading away from the center of the room were used by adolescents carrying laundry baskets, food, armor, and cleaning products. A waft of fire-charred meat, boiled vegetables, and a tinge of something sweet like citrus fruit drifted through the chamber every time a novice used the doors.
Heads turned toward Staell as the guide took him to the second floor. He ushered the unicorn into an office that overlooked the pit below.
Again the guide knelt.
¡°Is there anything I can get for my master, food or water? The journey must have been long and difficult.¡±
I don¡¯t require anything, Staell replied. He moved to the balcony to watch the fighters below.
¡°Then, I shall leave you and let the heir know you have called.¡± The guide left.
Ralloc boasted three divisions of battlemages, the Aegis caste for defense, the Barrage caste for offense, and the Pharmacon caste for healing. The battlemages of the Hive were of a different breed altogether. While Ralloc had specific wizards for each caste, the Hive¡¯s battlemages did all three simultaneously. None were masters of specific crafts, but they formed meticulous pupils and formidable foes for magical enemies and common soldiers.
But even the Hive¡¯s battlemages would give pause before taking on one of the Krey, the blood lusting berserkers. Their trance protected them against pain and fatal wounds within reason. The armor enhanced their defenses against magical attacks. The Hive held all outcasts of society because of their unique abilities. The Krey were here because of their battle trance or bloodlust malady and to learn the finer points of slaughtering their enemies. The battlemages or A¡¯uri were here to gain control over the voices in their head and to meld with other minds.
Staell watched the Krey below, besting each other in single combat. His gaze shifted up, as if peering through the floors of House Eti, and curiosity laced him. What were the A¡¯uri doing? Did they train as well? The enigmatic Outpost Dire was a gem, both in terms of unique culture and the cultivation of the world¡¯s greatest fighting force, but even Staell had to admit that his knowledge of the A¡¯uri was limited. He¡¯dnever seen them in action but heard the stories, especially when their powers took over.
The unique ability of the A¡¯uri made it impossible to keep other people¡¯s voices out of their head. When the power manifests, the first sign displayed was the victims crying out and acting possessed. An A¡¯uri was called to block the voices for them and abscond the victim to the Hive. The other side of the unique ability is the aptitude for entering other people¡¯s minds and controlling them. For this reason, they¡¯re kept away from the public and used in cohesion with the Krey. They¡¯re taught to hone and harness the power to reach beyond their own mind and meld multiple minds into a fighting unit, thus giving them an uncanny hive-like mind. Using this power took years of practice and control that surpassed all in the realm.
The Hive was a small, self-sustaining town. Krey and A¡¯uri worked every day honing their fighting skills and preserving their town. Their numbers were split into divisions to rotate through the school, while the rest took up their secondary skills as craftsmen, blacksmiths, farmers, rune masters, teachers, and many other functions. To help augment their work force, the spouses and children of the Krey and A¡¯uri worked beside them.
From dawn till dusk, the sharp clanging of swords, axes, and war hammers could be heard through the small town. Due to the close proximity to their neighbors, other activities were easily overheard, especially at night when sounds carried the greatest. All single Krey and A¡¯uri lived in House Eti. The exception were the Ko-dons, the Heir, and the most senior squads, if they chose.
Outpost Dire was an extension of the Grand Royal Army, and the Krey served the realm. While they were allowed to take side jobs like mercenaries to help augment their income and imports, their loyalty remained with Ralloc. Their entire town consisted of five thousand personnel, families and warriors, but it didn¡¯t include visitors or honored teachers from Ralloc. Though the A¡¯uri were unlike any other mage that walked the earth, they still had to learn from the Grand Masters of each caste. Ralloc chose to send the masters rather than have the ¡®mind-benders¡¯ loose in the Capitol.
Staell tore his attention away from the fighting to the graying heir entering his office. He was a round, meaty man with a pointy mustache and a matching wispy patch on his chin.
Oblus ina¡¯ti Sepan Eti, Staell communed.
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¡°Oi! A formal greeting! Not many people know our words. It appears not everyone is ignorant of our ways, after all. Oblus ina¡¯ti Sepan Eti,¡± he returned. Oblus ina¡¯ti Sepan Eti meant: ¡®Live and die by the sword.¡¯ As way of greeting, everyone normally just said ¡®Oblus Eti¡¯ or plain ¡®Eti.¡¯ The keep and original training ground in Hive was referred to Eti or House Eti, which meant ¡®House of the Sword.¡¯
The heir strolled behind his desk and reached for the cupboard. Grabbing a goblet and a flagon of wine, he filled his cup and raised it to Staell.
¡°Today¡¯s my birthday; here¡¯s to another year.¡± He gulped it down and refilled his cup. ¡°Here¡¯s to all that commotion down in the Pit and the headache it¡¯s going to give me.¡± He slammed the cup back and went to refill his glass again. Once filled, he raised it again to Staell. ¡°Here¡¯s to seeing a unicorn, a rare sight in these parts!¡± He drank in the same manner and refilled his cup and settled himself behind his desk.
¡°What brings you to my humble outpost?¡± The heir had to nearly shout to be heard over the fighting below.
War¡¯s coming, good Heir.
¡°I¡¯ve heard that before.¡± A loud clanging of swords drowned out the heir as he rolled his eyes at the Pit below. The second floor was reserved for offices and sleeping quarters of the heir, his family, and the ko-dons. The third floor was for training the A¡¯uri in the meld, and the fourth floor was sleeping quarters for all singles and senior squads of Krey and A¡¯uri. The heir walked to the balcony of his office which overlooked the first floor.
¡°STOP THAT RACKET!¡± he bellowed. ¡°I have a guest, and I can¡¯t hear him talk!¡±
Technically, I don¡¯t talk¡
The heir whirled around to face Staell. ¡°Don¡¯t start!¡± He returned to his desk. ¡°As I¡¯ve said, I¡¯ve heard that before. There¡¯s no war to be had. It ended with the death of Xilor.¡±
But he¡¯s returning, good Heir.
¡°Ha! Not likely, though I¡¯d almost wish for it, just to grease the cogs.¡±
We have foreseen it.
¡°We who? Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re talking about that cracked warlock, are you? Granted, he killed plenty in his day and is a warrior at heart, but the man has lost it.¡±
Yes, he has foreseen it. But the ¡®we¡¯ I¡¯m referring to is the Maghai of unicorns, myself included. I¡¯ve already done my duty to the council as emissary for my people.
The color drained from the heir¡¯s face, and he reached for the bottle, bypassing the cup entirely, and gulped generously.
¡°Of gods and demons.¡±
The maghai were a council of five. The first maghai were the unicorns who only answered to the grand maghai. Over time, wizardkind adopted the formal title as one of their own and used an abbreviated version of the name: mage. All professions dealing with magic fell under the rule of the maghai, the council of five grand master wizards. Staell referred to the former.
¡°When was this? How long ago did you have your premonition?¡±
Ten days past, and the cracked warlock you referred to also feels the stirrings of the old enemy. His power is growing. The premonitions are quite clear. Death is coming, war, famine; Xilor will march again and soon.
¡°And what did the Kothlere Council say to your message?¡±
It was ignored.
¡°So, they¡¯ll do nothing?¡± To this, Staell remained mute. The heir reached for the goblet on his desk and gulped down the red wine. He swiveled in his chair to the liquor table, refilled it to overflowing and began to chug the drink. He came up for breath and looked at Staell. ¡°Why tell me this?¡±
Because Ralloc will need your help, and so will Warlock Lakayre. If you don¡¯t aid them now, Ralloc will burn, Judas will die, Xilor will merge the two worlds, and the fallen angel will join him.
¡°The fallen who?¡±
That part does not concern you, but that¡¯s the full disclosure of the premonition. Just know that if you don¡¯t act now, all will be lost. Even you and the Hive will not be safe up here.
¡°What you¡¯re asking¡¡±
I¡¯ve asked you to do nothing.
¡°But you just said¡¡±
That Judas and Ralloc will need your help.
¡°What you are proposing could be considered treason.¡±
I¡¯ve proposed nothing. However, I think your men have grown tired of the walls of Eti and could benefit from some training outside the Hive, don¡¯t you agree?
¡°Training exercise?¡± The heir looked at Staell before he took a few more mouthfuls of the bitter, red wine. Suddenly, a mischievous glint glimmered in his eyes. ¡°I like the sound of that. Show our presence, our strength again, lest the realm forget!¡± He slammed his fist down on the desk and stood abruptly, excited by the idea. ¡°The Black Tide will march once more!¡±
Calm yourself greatly, Heir. You¡¯re exceedingly happy about this. Your movements must be strategic. There must be some meaning as to why you have mobilized without orders, lest Ralloc turn its might against you.
¡°What would you have me do?¡±
I¡¯d have you do nothing.
¡°What would you ¡ muse about at this conjecture of current and future paths and fates?¡±
You should just keep to plain talk; you¡¯re terrible at being subtle.
¡°The Black Tide was never about being subtle!¡±
Touch¨¦. I¡¯d muse that you¡¯d need to convene with the jyneruls of the War Council. Talk war games, what-if scenarios, whatever it is that jyneruls talk about. You¡¯ll get a feel for where you are needed most. In the meantime, I think the defenses of Cape Gythmel are in sore need of attention; perhaps you could send a small party there to provide a better assessment?
¡°Shades of the Underworld! That maggot hole isn¡¯t worth two shits of a prostitute! Cape Gythmel held no strategic value to the Grand Royal Army, and they abandoned that cesspit of a settlement. What the hell am I going to do with that miniscule settlement of farmers?¡±
Because, good Heir, when Xilor comes through the Corridor of Cruelty, and he will, that¡¯s where we need to choke him and cut him off from the rest of the domain. There¡¯s no stopping him south of it. There are no strategic points where we could slow his war machine once it starts. He could, if he wanted to, just bypass every town where we set up defenses. But the Corridor, that¡¯s the natural choke point, much like your stairs. Should a small party be there assessing the defenses, they could theoretically hit him hard. Your most veteran squad, perhaps? Conducting war scenarios?
¡°Aye, I can do that. Not many Krey left from the last war that are still in fighting condition. Most are ko-dons. But the youngest recruits from the Wizards¡¯ War, they can still fight. I¡¯ll send Void-Walkers squad to Cape Gythmel to see to the defenses.¡±
They must do all they can before Judas reaches there. Once he arrives, the war will be imminent.
¡°Not much twelve can do against a lack of defense fortifications,¡± the heir conceded.
I¡¯ve heard the same said of battle.
¡°Touch¨¦.¡± The heir smiled. Standing from his desk, he walked back over to the railing of his office and gazed down into the Pit. It had all but cleared out, and now the floors were being scrubbed by neophytes.
¡°Oi! Wash boy,¡± he called. He was so loud that he caused another boy across the room to drop the handful of swords and maces he was carrying. Once the clattering died, the heir sent him a withering glance. He turned his attention back to the wash boy.
¡°Heir!¡± he acknowledged, leaping to his feet and standing at attention.
¡°Bring me the ko-dons and the do-don of Void-Walker squad. And make it snappy!¡± the heir slurred, the wine finally starting to take effect. ¡°I ain¡¯t got all day, scrub!¡±
And this is where I leave you, good Heir.
¡°What? Not staying for the battle plans?¡±
What battle plans?
¡°You know, for Cape Gythmel ¡ for my little visit to Ralloc?¡±
Honestly, good Heir, I have no idea what you are talking about.
The heir chuckled a hearty, soon-to-be-drunk laugh. ¡°I like you, horsey.¡±
You¡¯re not bad yourself, for a dwaven.
¡°Hey! I¡¯m not dwaven!¡±
Fine! I like you, too, little fat man.
The heir¡¯s chuckles echoed through the floors and walls all the way up to the fourth floor in the House of Eti.
Chapter 13: The Heir
The ko-dons and the do-don of Void-Walkers squad filed into the heir¡¯s office. Daniel eyed each as they entered, gauging them. Since the room lacked a fourth wall, every meeting went without privacy. This drawback enabled ideal circumstances for listening to someone having their ass thrashed by the heir, a mirthful and riotous event unless you became his target. The overseers of the school talked animatedly with each other, their voices rising, resonate. All six ko-dons sat in a semicircle around the heir¡¯s desk. Ko-don¡¯s Bear and Stallion were the oldest of the ko-dons, while Craiboar, came in as the youngest; Ko-don Panther lived up to his apt name for being the quietest of the group. Ko-don Adder didn¡¯t fit any plausible definition; a swing vote for executive decisions for the Hive. Raven, the do-don of Void-Walker squad, was the last to arrive. The heir spotted his entrance, and he tried to call for their attention twice before shouting.
¡°Oi! Gag your hole!¡±
Silence, abrupt and harsh, ensued.
¡°I think it¡¯s time for some rigorous training of the Void-Walkers, get those old Krey to working again, and break in the newer members.¡± The heir addressed the do-don, Raven. ¡°How many veterans are in the squad from the Wizard¡¯s War?¡±
¡°Three, sir.¡±
¡°That¡¯s it? Three old souls and a bunch of bloodless virgins?¡±
¡°Not entirely bloodless, Heir.¡±
¡°Virgins to war, you piss-pot. Am I to understand you are one of the three veterans? Who¡¯s the next in line after you three?¡±
¡°Debatable.¡± Raven smoothed back his black hair, sweeping it from his eyes. ¡°Patch is a veteran, but Xenomene is better with the blade. If I were to make my decision, I¡¯d return to the old ways, the best among us lead, the strong survive. Xenomene, sir.¡±
¡°The pretty redhead vixen? Scar on her face? Talks with a perpetual voice of sarcasm?¡±
¡°That would be the one, sir.¡±
¡°She isn¡¯t a virgin, is she? If so, somebody bed the poor girl before she leaves. I don¡¯t want her to die having not lived at all!¡±
¡°I would offer to do the honors gladly, Heir,¡± interjected Bear, a Ko-don, ¡°but alas, I¡¯m a married man.¡±
¡°Prune!¡± someone japed.
¡°I¡¯m too old, too,¡± Bear added. ¡°Like her grandfather. Besides, if she were to drop her clothes, I might die from a seizing heart.¡±
¡°Have you seen her? Age would not be a problem!¡± Stallion noted. ¡°Your limp sword on the other hand¡¡±
¡°As cute as she is, there are several better looking,¡± Craiboar interjected.
¡°Bane of the gods! Send her to me,¡± the heir sighed. ¡°A hard duty, but must be done for her good.¡±
¡°I don¡¯t think you are her type, sir,¡± Raven commented.
¡°And you are?¡±
¡°I don¡¯t think any of the men in this room are ¡ sir.¡±
¡°Really?¡± Surprise flashed across the Heir¡¯s face. ¡°I¡¯d like to see that.¡± The Ko-dons chuckled.
The men, though crass and cruel, their japes were made in jest; no matter how bad the men¡¯s perverted and salacious words were, the women rivaled the men, just as terrible, vile, and cutthroat. Being Krey was more than having the bloodlust malady, it was their entire way of life.
¡°Enough folly. If you should die in an unexpected and violent death with a sword in your gut, she¡¯s to be the do-don. At least, until I find a suitable replacement.¡±
¡°Those are a lot of particulars,¡± a ko-don named Chimera said.
¡°Are you aware of something, sir?¡± Craiboar inquired. Craiboar was a unique blend of supplicant stupidity and wanting to be rebellious. He was never brave enough to traverse the way alone.
¡°Never mind. Now, how good is she with a blade?¡±
¡°She¡¯s the best in my squad, disarming me and the other two veterans on numerous occasions. In fact, if memory serves, she¡¯s undefeated in the Pit.¡±
¡°Good.¡± The heir, Daniel, nodded, taking in the words. ¡°Good to hear. Undefeated?¡± He gave a furtive glance towards Raven, who nodded. ¡°Something else I would like to see.¡±
¡°What¡¯s wrong, Heir?¡± Chimera pressed.
Daniel paused to reflect on what he should reveal to his men. Not everything was meant for their ears, like the story behind the heir¡¯s title. The tale was only privy to the chosen successor. The first successor Heir of Valin was, indeed, Valin¡¯s son. As time went on, and House of Eti became more of a prominent need for Ralloc, the highest-ranking official took the title heir, whether an actual descendant of Valin or not.
While known to those who studied their history, the rest of the account evaded the educated. Valin¡¯s war party rescued the Mother Centaur from the Trees of Shadow. She promised them wealth for their bravery. But, either through genuine misunderstanding or from greed, the dwaven of Valin¡¯s party expected riches that she didn¡¯t grant. The Mother Centaur banished Valin¡¯s war troupe, and her followers drove them out. The rest of the story cannot be chalked up to a misunderstanding.
Valin of Lor returned to the forest alone and entered his first bloodlust, slaughtering the centaurs. With the massacre over, and Valin only suffering minor wounds, he turned on the Mother of the Centaurs who begged for her life. Valin beheaded her and stuck her head on a pike. Upon seeing the slaughter, the dwaven of Valin¡¯s group plundered the riches and retreated to their halls in the mountains. Valin, in repentance, walked Ermaeyth alone, haunted by deeds he couldn¡¯t fully remember.
A resigning heir would bestow a kernel of truth to the successor: Valin of Lor was not dwaven as most assumed but elyfian.
¡°I was given a warning today,¡± the heir proclaimed at last.
¡°What warning?¡± Craiboar asked.
¡°By whom?¡± Adder interjected.
¡°The warning came from a reliable source¡¡± Daniel started.
¡°You mean the unicorn?¡± blurted Raven.
¡°I sure hope to the Lord of the Underworld Xenomene has better brains than you,¡± Daniel reproved the veteran.
¡°A unicorn here?¡± Adder asked.
¡°Yeah, are you daft? Kinda hard to miss with all his blinding light,¡± chided Stallion.
¡°I want to see a unicorn!¡± proclaimed Panther.
¡°Sweet Shades of the Underworld pissing on the dwaven goddess Soma, you call yourself Krey?¡± The heir lurched to his feet. ¡°You sound like a bunch of cackling hens in a whore house! Who gives two shits of a prostitute about whether you wanted to see a unicorn!¡±
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The profound silence smothered the office. Only their breathing filled the absence.
¡°Two shits of a prostitute?¡± Adder echoed, his voice deadpan.
The Krey burst into fits of laughter and giggles, some turning red, trying to refrain.
¡°It¡¯s an older saying,¡± the heir stammered.
¡°Yeah, vintage!¡± said Stallion.
¡°You got to keep the classics alive, a saying older than I am!¡± Bear explained. ¡°Been a while since I heard it.¡±
The laughter faded.
¡°Heir, what do you know?¡± Panther asked, his tone soft and quiet like his personality.
¡°War¡¯s coming, and the Black Tide is needed.¡±
War: a singular word every Krey hoped for and dreaded. ¡°What would you have us do, Heir?¡± Raven asked.
¡°You¡¯ll conduct extracurricular training via a circuitous and scenic route. You¡¯re to take the Void-Walkers and march to a specified location.¡±
¡°March? Where are we going, sir?¡±
¡°Clear the room,¡± the Heir ordered. The ko-dons stood, glancing between their leader and the do-don. Though not unheard of, scarcely did the commanding officer keep information from his circle of advisors. If he did, the reason ensured plausible deniability. Once the room cleared, he continued in quiet tones. ¡°You¡¯ll be going to Cape Gythmel.¡±
¡°That shit-hole excuse of a settlement? I would rather eat pig¡¯s ass for a season.¡±
¡°My exact sentiments.¡±
¡°An awful long way. Could take upwards of two months, especially on foot.¡±
¡°I know,¡± Daniel conceded. He sat down behind his desk. Raven, pulling a chair closer, sat opposite of him. ¡°You can¡¯t visit a Portal Master in Ralloc without raising suspicions. We¡¯re not allowed to mobilize unless given direct orders from the War Council. So, if a squad of Black Tide shows up in Ralloc, they¡¯d come knocking on our door, and not for a polite visit. No, this must be done under their noses.¡±
¡°You speak treason, Heir.¡±
¡°No, I said training exercise.¡±
¡°And what training could they obtain out there that they couldn¡¯t do here?¡±
¡°A real-life scenario of defeating an overwhelming force, creating defenses against imminent siege, and crafting fortifications with tools from the town. The Krey get training and exercise and foster goodwill with the people of the domain. In the process, a defenseless town receives fortifications, and the squad can share their knowledge with the rest of the Krey. Once we debrief, we can work on honing the attained skills and find more efficient ways to erecting defenses.¡±
¡°Twelve isn¡¯t enough for fortifications.¡±
¡°The same is said of battle,¡± the heir echoed Staell¡¯s words. ¡°A squad will have to be enough. In the meantime, I¡¯ll be in Ralloc, convening with the War Council. Protocols are in effect while I am away: majority vote amongst the ko-dons. Any questions?¡±
¡°Provisions and gear?¡±
¡°I¡¯ll give you the short run down, and you won¡¯t like the restrictions. You¡¯ll be marching in full gear, and you should not expect resupply of provisions or reinforcements¡.¡±
Daniel and Raven discussed for several hours into the night, going over the finer points of their excursion. The heir inspected the dragon plate armor and the weapons of the Krey and decided to wake every essential member of the main professions. Next to wake, the rune and sigil grand wizard, and was tasked with charging all the runes on the weapons and armor. Following, the grand wizard charged rune stones so the deploying A¡¯uri could revitalize the Krey¡¯s armor in the field.
The heir roused the blacksmith and his aides. Weapons received fresh edges and leather grips, the whetstone soothing away any detectible imperfections. Other than fighting, maintenance of armor and weapons was the highest priority to the Krey. The task came before eating, drinking, sleeping, or sex. The plate, one part of the hybrid armor, received an immaculate scrubbing. When the armor smith finished each one, he passed it to the draycon.
The draycon was the name of an obscured profession, and only five remained in the entire realm. A draycon dreamed, breathed, and studied dragons for a living; few knew much about the scarce beasts. The draycons scrutinized every aspect of the creature including their magical properties. Their familiarity with dragons enabled them to manipulate the nearly-indestructible scales. Melding dragon scales with armor enhanced the properties of any etched runes, amplifying their protection against magical attacks. The dragon scales also bolstered the durability of the plate. Through exhaustive efforts and ages of perfection, the Krey gave birth to a new type of armor distinctly their own: dragon-plate.
The apothecary crackled to life late in the night. Small packs of herbs and medicines were crafted to help cover any illness the Krey or A¡¯uri might encounter. While the A¡¯uri could heal themselves or the Krey, their healing abilities geared towards larger and more life-threatening injuries. Fevers and colds relied upon medicine and herbs. The apothecary profession was the only non-magical specialty overseen by a high wizard. Moreover, the rank was the highest anyone could aspire to, one-step above the general population.
Neophytes roused early to pack supplies for the squad. Each personal bag was stuffed with food, apothecary supplies, bandages, sleeping gear, spare clothes and boots, water skins, weapon and armor oil, and rags. With nonnegotiable and mission essential supplies loaded, the top quarter of the pack remained free so each Krey could take what they wished.
An hour before dawn, the Void-Walker squad assembled in the Pit. Dressed for battle, they moved with fluid grace, lacking the encumbering weight of traditional armor. Each Krey donned their weapon of choice, augmented by a bastard sword, dagger, bow, and a quiver of arrows. Their helmets crowned the top of their sleeping rolls which jutted over their left or right shoulder, able to snatch it up at a moment¡¯s notice.
The Heir walked among them, inspecting each of the nine Krey¡ªand three A¡¯uri accompanying them¡ªwith Raven in tow. He stopped in front of the petite redhead. Standing this close, he inspected the obvious scar on the right side of her face. In a thin line it traced from the corner of her mouth to mid cheek. It didn¡¯t seem as bad as he thought. The scar was an old wound, faint and white, and granted by a sharp blade. A graze, nothing more. For a moment, he wondered why she didn¡¯t demand magic to remove the scar. It marred her comely face. His eyes stirred, rising to her emerald eyes glittering with mischief and intensity. He couldn¡¯t decide which description won out. Sparse, faint flecks of gold graced her face with freckles.
¡°Aren¡¯t you a pretty one?¡±
¡°It¡¯s your imagination, Heir. I¡¯m a perpetual vixen with a pretty sarcastic voice. Or ¡ wait, no, I have that wrong. I¡¯m a pretty vixen with a perpetual voice of sarcasm. Sorry, Heir, you¡¯re correct, sir,¡± Xenomene replied.
¡°You¡¯ve got a sharp mouth on you, young one.¡±
¡°That¡¯s not what my lover thought last night, sir.¡±
¡°Really? I didn¡¯t hear any noises coming from the fourth floor.¡±
¡°No, sir, your wife is quite discreet.¡±
The heir chuckled, a rumble in his belly trapped behind teeth and tight lips. He didn¡¯t have a wife. ¡°I like this one,¡± he announced, pointing at her. ¡°You leave in one piece, come back that way.¡±
¡°I shall return,¡± she vowed.
The heir continued to wade through the ranks, checking their armor and weapons. Once they left, the Krey would be on their own. The draycon taught all the A¡¯uri enough about the magical properties of dragon scales to help repair armor in the field, but the plate portion fell to the wearer. All donned the same armor minus personal alterations. The only plate of their armor was for the helms, shoulder protection, shin guards, and the upper chest, which stopped at the sternum. Dragon scale covered the upper arms, neck, thighs, abdomen, and back, allowing for flexibility of movements in all joints and pivot points of the body in the heat of battle. Boiled leather weaved underneath and held both together.
Satisfied, the heir left the Pit and returned to the open balcony in this office. The do-don gave a salute, a hand placed over his heart, ¡°Permission to depart, Heir?¡±
The moment arrived, the precipice of sending them forward or backing out. The heir stared down at the squad, their eyes locked on him, almost tangible anticipation filled House Eti like air crackling with energy. The hardest part of his job was the decisive moment and the order that followed. His words would send them to their deaths. Those born with the bloodlust malady were considered expendable by anyone who was not; he understood that truth, his warriors did, too. He heard the phrase ¡®necessary fodder¡¯ coined in a War Council session. His blood boiled at that.
A lone squad of the rage-induced berserkers could carve a swath through an opposing force a hundred times its size. Member for member, his irreplaceable warriors held a merit and worth the Grand Royal Army would never achieve. Daniel wouldn¡¯t trade one of his for a brigade of soldiers. But if his people were to die, they¡¯d die like all Krey should, a sword in their hand and a scream ripping from their throats.
His eyes roamed to the flat black armor. Either by intentional design of the blacksmiths or by the runes placed by the grand master, his eyes drew uncontrollably to the darkness, just as the enemies¡¯ eyes would. He gazed at the faces of the ¡®virgins,¡¯ the ones yet to enter true battle. Most would die. His eyes flickered to Xenomene, memorizing her face so when she didn¡¯t return, he could recall her fondly. His eyes progressed to the veterans of the squad. They¡¯d die, too. Age granted wisdom while stealing speed and strength. He would start preparing individuals to augment the depleted force once the war kicked off. Who would survive, and who would fall? Pride and heartache lanced through him, a moment any parent who sent their child off to war would know well. Damned if he did ¡ fucked if he didn¡¯t.
¡°Permission granted,¡± he relented gravely. Sympathy and respect crept into his voice. ¡°Oblus ina¡¯ti Sepan Eti.¡±
The Krey below slammed their fist into their chest. ¡°Oblus ina¡¯ti Sepan Eti!¡±
Chapter 14: Judas
Judas found Julie at a tailoring shop not far down the road from the inn. From the shop¡¯s sidewalk, he could still see their hotel. Julie finished as he arrived.
Madam Rose handed her a receipt and told her not to lose it. ¡°Pick ¡®em up around early evening. Mind ya¡¯, we close before Apor sets.¡± The apprentice handed the receipt to her master; she¡¯d lose it long before her robes were ready. Judas pocketed the slip after eying the bold letters ¡®Stitched In Time,¡¯ on the front.
The duo managed to snag the last few moments of breakfast upon returning to the inn, dining on eggs, bacon, oranges, fried bread with mashed beans, and goat¡¯s milk.
After all he had done, and all that the wild tales claimed, Judas accepted the stares and gawks. Even now, he rarely gave it thought. Julie, however, couldn¡¯t focus on her plate, her eyes darting around the dining room, making eye contact with the few people who remained. Earlier, when they checked in, two dozen littered the dining room. Now, only a handful remained.
A welcomed surprise came to the warlock when Julie kept her mouth shut and finished her meal, despite the infrequent, furtive glances shot periodically in their direction. With their meal finished, Judas stood and ushered Julie from the room. With a warm and reassuring hand on her shoulder, he guided her past the gawkers. In his room, she plopped down in the chair Todd once sat in, her arms across her chest, her brow frowning.
¡°You shouldn¡¯t let them get to you,¡± Judas acknowledged, his voice gentle.
¡°I don¡¯t understand!¡±
The elder sighed. ¡°You¡¯re still new here. You need to experience all the offerings of life, to understand that each focal point isn¡¯t made up of two sides but several. That¡¯s the difference between intelligent people and fools, a closed mind or an open one. When you manage to, then make your judgment, and do so with sound logic, knowing you¡¯ve analyzed all facets.¡±
Her eyes darted to his, her brow softened, and she abandoned her scowl. ¡°Are you closed minded?¡±
The question took him by surprise. The elder expected her to fixate on the patrons in the dining room. Instead, she turned the conversation around and went analytical, a testament to how her mind worked.
Judas took the seat opposite of her. ¡°More often than not.¡±
¡°Why?¡±
¡°I would guess for the comfort I find in order and conduct, valuing my morals above those of the law, yet I follow the law to maintain order. It¡¯s the structure of symmetry that¡¯s appealing to me. Magic is about structure, harmony. Only those who use it for personal means distort it and make it chaotic.¡±
¡°You¡¯re a warlock, an exile. You¡¯re above the law.¡±
¡°No,¡± he addressed. ¡°Never above, outside.¡± He waved the comment away. ¡°I think we should turn our focus to your training. We won¡¯t have much time along the way, but when we reach our destination, we¡¯ll have more. It takes a lot of time and energy to train, and I intend to devote all my energy, or as much of it as I can, to you. The hardest part is the first step. I cannot tell you what to search for no more than I can explain what it¡¯s like to breathe. That must come from within. Once you sense your magic, the rest will come.¡±
¡°You trained others, right?¡±
¡°Yes,¡± he admitted, hesitant.
¡°But?¡±
¡°I¡¯ve never trained someone from the beginning. In the past, by the time most came to me, they had finished their tutelage at school. Some even apprenticed under another master prior to seeking me out. I never taught someone the basics; it was already long established. A learning experience for the both of us, I think.¡±
He stood, his head swiveling, searching, and spying what he sought. He moved to snatch it up. With a candle and holder firmly in his grasp, he held it out towards Julie before positioning the small night stand between them and setting the candle down.
¡°You know how to do magic, why don¡¯t you use it to move the things you want?¡±
¡°Just because something can be done easier doesn¡¯t mean it should be. I learned many years ago there¡¯s a certain pleasure in doing things the mundane way.¡± His eye twitched and a flame flared at the wick¡¯s tip. ¡°I¡¯ll be learning as much as you.¡± He reached for her wrists, holding her hands up on either side of the candle. ¡°I want you to influence the flame, and if you can, snuff it out. Reach within, touch the magic coursing through your body. Realize you have the ability to call on magic, command it, and influence the candle. Appreciate the heat, the energy of the flame. Absorb it, bask in the warmth, and then¡ª¡± the wick went out. A thin, wispy coil of smoke filled the air. He smiled, and the wick ignited again. ¡°Think you can do it?¡±
¡°So, that¡¯s it?¡± Julie queried. ¡°Just influence the candle?¡±
¡°Yes.¡±
She blew the flame out. ¡°Done.¡±
Judas chortled and relit the wick. ¡°With magic, my dear, not ingenuity. The task is as much about influencing the flame as sensing your essence, where your ability to call upon magic comes from.¡± With a hunch in his back, he slouched in his chair, his gaze never wavering while Julie moved her hands up to the sides of the candle. He hoped it wouldn¡¯t take long, but he expected her to fail many times before connecting with her essence.
Even as he waited, Judas realized even this menial task might be too much for her. Those born in Ermaeyth grew up with magic. Everyone influenced their essence to an extent, and those better adapted to magic pursued lucrative careers in a respective field. By the time he and other children went to school at age five, they managed to perform small magics themselves. Growing up in Ermaeyth made it as easy as breathing, but she didn¡¯t grow up here. She had no idea what to look for, and it¡¯d take time.
To her credit, she didn¡¯t whine or falter in her persistent efforts, the minutes trickling by without success. The wax of the candlestick melted like the hours. Lunch came and went, another candle acquired. The only time she moved from her post was to use the privy. She always returned to her seat, to gaze at the candle and study the flickering flame. By the time dinner came, her stomach growled loud enough for Judas to discern, and he insisted she accompany him to dinner.
They dined on a thick stew of potatoes, carrots, pork and mushrooms over a bed of dense, fried bread, the latter so thick it required a knife. Julie tore into her plate with enthusiasm, devouring her portion moments after she received her meal. While she waited for her second helping, Judas noted she glanced around the dining room. Some of the faces changed, some didn¡¯t. The ones remaining still wore scowls of dislike, discomfort, and suspicion. The new faces were oblivious to whom sat in their midst.
¡°Why don¡¯t they recognize you?¡±
Judas finished chewing his food and shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m recognizable in Ralloc, but outside? Only by a few. Anywhere else and none would be the wiser unless I announce myself. If I¡¯m recognized by the few, the whispers will soon follow. Otherwise it¡¯s almost like a myth. It¡¯s quite nice to be left alone.¡±
Julie kept her eyes moving, dancing between patrons, memorizing those of disdain and those oblivious. She shuddered and rubbed her arms as if cold and glanced back towards the kitchen.
¡°What is it?¡±
¡°I don¡¯t know. I get the sense no matter what I see, hear, do ¡ it seems so strange.¡±
¡°That is to be expected. You have amnesia.¡±
¡°I don¡¯t remember this place, any of it, but the knowledge is there.¡± She tapped her temple.
¡°I believe that¡¯s the point of amnesia, my dear.¡±
¡°It feels so strange, like I don¡¯t belong, or the knowledge doesn¡¯t belong.¡±
¡°Monachopsis.¡±
¡°What?¡± She blinked at his word.
¡°A subtle but persistent feeling of being out of place? That something¡¯s not quite right?¡±
¡°Yes!¡± she confessed, latching on to the word like a lifeline. ¡°That¡¯s it!¡±
Judas nodded, knowing what she felt was his fault. With reluctance, he told her why she couldn¡¯t remember everything, though he was careful to leave certain elements out. He told her of where she came from, why he brought her back. She took the tale far better than he thought.
¡°I would¡¯ve died if you left me?¡± The elder nodded. ¡°Because someone is chasing you, or me, or both of us?¡±
He nodded again. ¡°I believe whoever acquired the books from your shop intended not to leave any trace or evidence, even unsuspecting witnesses. It¡¯s my belief he or she would¡¯ve returned to eliminate you. I may have killed the sheol while we retreated, but more were coming. The auras they gave off told me as much.¡±
¡°You used the Essence Transference to give me knowledge?¡± She shrugged. ¡°I would¡¯ve died or come back and been stupid. You made the right decision, especially under the circumstances, and I would¡¯ve made the same choice.¡±
He smiled, relieved, but doubt crept in. The warlock knew they¡¯d eventually broach the subject again after she had time to let it sink in. When they did, her view might not be the same. He¡¯d face that obstacle when the time came. There was no sense in worrying about it now.
Her second helping arrived a few moments later, and they finished their meal. Judas saw Julie off to her room before going to his own.
The next morning he found her sitting in a chair in her room, the candle burning, her eyes intent on the flame. He regarded her progress for over an hour before he left her to her devices, unsure of how long it would take. He could help her but was afraid she¡¯d grow dependent on his help. The first time was always best on your own, but if she didn¡¯t sense her essence by the time they left for the Corridor, he¡¯d help her. Retreating to his room, he realized he did not warn his friend T¡¯son of their imminent arrival. He planned to stay with him or at the inn at Wizard¡¯s Pass.
T¡¯son was a long-time friend, but Judas hadn¡¯t spoken to him in many full moons. Reflecting, he¡¯d failed to visit him for many years. Now, he¡¯d be lucky to call him an acquaintance. Some friendships were born out of want or need, some formed in youth, but those forged in war stuck forever. Like Meristal¡¯s.
Crossing the room, he closed the cyan curtains, making it easier to see T¡¯son without so much light. Once darkened, he approached the large, oval mirror hanging on the wall to the right of the fireplace. He waved his fingers minutely, and the surface swirled in a fog of green.
¡°Who¡¯s thur?¡± the thick accent came from the other side before the image formed.
Instead of seeing his reflection, the image of Judas¡¯s friend appeared. The shorter, stockier man filled the mirror. His gleaming pate sparkled with a sheen of oil. What little hair remained grew long and shaggy. His round face was covered with a long, coarse beard of dark brown and gray and hid his cleft chin. His nose hairs rivaled his bushy eyebrows.
¡°T¡¯son,¡± Judas beamed.
¡°Judas? That ya? What ya doin¡¯ callin¡¯ s¡¯late?¡± the other groaned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
¡°Late? It¡¯s mid-morning, unless I¡¯m interrupting a nap. What are you going on about?¡±
¡°Well, hooey, snooty. You run a pub all night an¡¯ see ho¡¯ ya fare.¡±
¡°Ah, I always forget.¡± Judas said nodding, smiling. The warlock learned long ago sometimes to get what you desired without directly asking was to offer a less desirable solution. Politicians taught him that, his first teacher, his brother. Guilt racked him. He didn¡¯t want to invite himself to T¡¯son¡¯s house. ¡°Listen, would you like to take some time off and go with me to Marcoalyn? I could use a vacation and get away from the arrogance of Ralloc. What do you say? It¡¯ll be like old times.¡±
¡°Ah, Judas,¡± T¡¯son said, rubbing the back of his neck, ¡°I¡¯d like tha¡¯, sure I would; but I can¡¯t take off like tha¡¯, not anymore. I go¡¯ dut¡¯es here now.¡±
¡°So, let someone else run the bar for you. I¡¯m sure someone would be willing to mind it for a few days.¡±
¡°Nah, they¡¯d drain all m¡¯liquor, and I¡¯d be broke. Besides, the crazy coots ¡®ere gone an¡¯ made me gov¡¯nor. Why the hell they¡¯d tha¡¯ no one wi¡¯ever knows.¡±
¡°Governor? You didn¡¯t write to tell your old pal the good news? Did you forget about us up here in the mountains?¡± Judas chuckled.
¡°Hardly, snooty! Ya¡¯ pompous arses up ¡®n Ralloc can¡¯t stan¡¯ the stench down here, so ya¡¯ forget ¡®bout the likes of us is mo¡¯ like it. If any one of ¡®em council membe¡¯s eva¡¯ bothe¡¯ed to leave thur chambers, an¡¯ come do¡¯n here, why they couldn¡¯ tell tha¡¯ difference between pig shit and thur own farts. Damn dotards! Jus¡¯ come ¡¯ere.¡±
Judas allowed himself a chuckle at his friend¡¯s ramblings, not only because of their truth, but because of the way he talked.
¡°So, why ya¡¯ callin¡¯ fur? Got an¡¯other ball ya¡¯ wan¡¯ me to attend so ya¡¯ can get ya¡¯r laughs in?¡± Judas¡¯s chuckling dried up, and he became stoic. ¡°Yeah, I knew why ya¡¯ always invited me.¡±
T''son¡¯s accent and lack of proper articulation made him high entertainment at balls and political banquets. Whenever Judas could, he always invited his friend along with him, if nothing else for a silent laugh as people squirmed while T¡¯son talked with his bizarre accent.
¡°Damn, and here I thought I was clever,¡± Judas jibbed, smiling. A large crash and the sound of shattering glass made Judas look away.
Julie!
He¡¯d forgotten about her as he talked with his old friend.
T¡¯son heard it, too. ¡°Wha¡¯ the devils of the Abyss wa¡¯ tha¡¯?¡±
¡°A momentary lapse in remembrance,¡± Judas explained in a rush. ¡°I did have a reason to call, but I got to go now. I¡¯ll call back soon, I promise.¡±
¡°So, in ¡®bou¡¯ a fortnigh¡¯?¡± T¡¯son asked with sarcasm. ¡°Fo¡¯get vacation, jus¡¯ come ¡¯ere ta Wizard¡¯s Pass.¡±
¡°Sooner, I promise, and sure, I¡¯ll stop by!¡± Judas smiled and ended the transmission. The green fog swirled away, and the surface of the mirror cleared. Another crash of shattering glass, this time, accompanied by a curse. A chuckle escaped him upon hearing Julie¡¯s failed endeavors. Perhaps he needed to rescue her from herself.
Judas entered her room, the door opening with haste, but found her in the same position as he left her. She turned at his entry, a puzzled expression on her face. ¡°I thought¡ª Didn¡¯t you just¡ª I mean¡ª Did you break something?¡± Julie shook her head in silence and another glass shattered in the distance, a room across the hall. He wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his robes. ¡°Thank the gods,¡± he muttered. ¡°I thought you hurt yourself.¡±
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¡°Nope.¡±
Judas pushed further into the room and sat opposite of her, noting the turbulence on her face. The flame burned calm, static, serene. Her eyes glittered not with intensity but angst. She had progressed beyond the desire to learn, to perform magic, to silent resentment. The warlock scrutinized the flame, hoping for a shift, a flutter, anything.
¡°To the Underworld with this!¡± she said, bounding to her feet, pacing. Her arms flailed about, emphasizing each word. ¡°I sit, and I wait, and nothing happens! I feel nothing except anger and embarrassment at my stupidity!¡±
¡°Julie?¡± his soft voice called.
¡°I wasted my time and your time. A day and a half! That¡¯s all it has been, but a long time to sit through, to wait for something to happen!¡±
¡°Julie?¡±
¡°Maybe I¡¯m not meant to be a mage. The fairies are wrong, or they¡¯re right, and I¡¯m what¡¯s wrong. I feel so ¡ agitated.¡±
¡°Julie?¡± Judas spoke louder.
¡°I don¡¯t know how or why, but I feel like I¡¯m missing things, pieces of myself.¡± She stopped, locking eyes with him. ¡°I know you aren¡¯t telling me everything. You didn¡¯t tell me everything when you told me why you brought me here. What are you hiding? Why are you treating me like a child?¡±
¡°Julie!¡± Judas nearly shouted, breaking through. His eyes tracked from her face to the candle, and she followed his gaze. The flame danced before their eyes, not the flickering of flame in the wind, but with a mind of its own. Julie¡¯s mind. It bent and rolled, curling on itself, responding to her emotional state. He glanced up at his apprentice, but her gaze hardened. She ground her teeth and clenched her fist in frustration, the candle bursting as if crushed by an invisible force.
Judas sat as the shower of wax settled, impressed, but troubled by her anger. Though a natural attitude, a feeling of chaffing and irritation, she overreacted. Her eagerness to jump to the emotional spectrum, regardless if warranted or not, set him on edge. But he wouldn¡¯tshadow her accomplishment by casting criticism. Julie¡¯s raw power was hindered by her lack of affinity with magic. He had faith she¡¯d succeed with time.
¡°Congratulations, my dear! Wonderful.¡±
¡°I did it?¡± she blinked, casting an apprehensive glance his way. ¡°Sorry.¡±
¡°An impressive display, if I may say so.¡± Pulling his wand from his robes, he flicked his wrist, the wax disappeared, and the small mess cleared away. ¡°Quite alright, my dear. Magic can fix almost everything, or at least, clear away a mess. Now, let¡¯s try something else.¡± He shifted to the window and motioned her to join him. In the distance, a copse of trees formed the edge of a forested area.
¡°Magic¡¯s more than bending a weak flame to your will; it¡¯s a complex, binding entity of itself. Each of the five branches of magic has their rules, similar but different from each other. Magic can aid you, restore your health, help the infirm, educate and restore knowledge ¡ limitless applications. Fun is but another aspect.¡± He pointed his finger out the window to the distant tree line. ¡°Would you like to see them closer?¡±
¡°Teleport?¡± Julie asked, excitement filled her voice.
¡°No, not teleport. I¡¯m talking about enhanced vision.¡± An eyebrow arched in silent question.
She nodded.
¡°You¡¯re still a student, and you¡¯ll need your wand for this.¡± He waited until she extracted it from her robes. Her clothing was a set made the day prior, a midnight blue outer robe with silver collar and lapels, and small white stars on the cuffs that matched her inner robe. With the wand in her hand, Judas instructed her on the finer points of how to hold the wand and the incantation to accompany the spell.
Julie spoke the incantation, focusing on her words and intent, but nothing happened. She sighed, dejected, her eyes narrowing.
¡°No, no. You¡¯re trying too hard to make something happen. Let it flow. Be natural. It¡¯s there, within, like a quiet whisper in your ear, or a spider crawling across your skin. You don¡¯t notice it until you do.¡±
Julie sighed, her jaw working, setting her teeth, almost resigned to failure again when she tried the incantation. This time, as she spoke the words, the trees jumped, and her vision magnified. Judas cried out; the pain was sudden and unexpected. He saw through her eyes, his magic seeping into her as she used his essence to accomplish the incantation. Both of their visions swam, focusing on towering trees with twisting trails and thick underbrush, tumbling waterfalls spewing a fine white mist, and animals either hiding in the underbrush, drinking, bathing, or snatching food from the pooling waters.
¡°Beautiful,¡± she whispered with excitement.
Judas grunted with pain. The longer she siphoned from him, the worse the pain. In moments, she would feel it, too. A dull pain crashed in waves through his skull, akin to a blacksmith using his head as an anvil. A sharp agony started in his temple, and he vaguely heard Julie cry out. He concentrated on his essence, watching the cascade between the two of them, and pulled, reigning back in. Once he wrestled control from Julie, the prevalent anguish receded somewhat.
The warlock reached within, calling on his magic as he had many thousands of times in the past, and rejuvenated his body. The familiar sensation flashed through him, like waking from a week-long slumber. A wave of unfathomable energy permeated his body, like water soaking into the sand at the beach. Hunger and weariness leeched from him, bolstering his health and vitality. Even at his advanced age, he felt ready to trek up a mountain.
The pain subsided as the spell worked its way through his body. A sudden movement caught his eye, and he turned to the right. Julie was slumped over, holding her head, rocking back and forth. He reached out a hand and touched her, sending his magic through her. She stopped moving almost at once.
Her eyes looked up, blinked a few times in disbelief. ¡°That was incredible, whatever you did!¡±
¡°A rejuvenating spell. Comes in handy. A little too advanced for you at the moment,¡± Judas said with a soft voice. ¡°You¡¯d do well to remember the spell in the future. I¡¯ll teach you when the time is right.¡± A smile crept over his face. ¡°Before you ask, we both caused the pain. In an attempt to control your elusive aura, your mind reached out and snatched mine, a stronger, bolder one. You siphoned, pulled my essence without acquiescence or my help. The pain is a natural fail-safe. Your essence will fight off the invasion, similar to when your body gets an infection; your fever burns it out.¡±
She shuddered. ¡°I¡¯ll try not to let that happen again.¡±
¡°Me either. Painful for both of us, and I¡¯ll be more mindful in the future.¡±
He returned to his seat, and she followed. ¡°Is that common?¡±
¡°Pulling someone¡¯s essence?¡± He shook his head.
¡°Why not?¡±
¡°First, the one siphoning must be strong to begin with, and though someone may be powerful enough to snatch it, the pain will be enough for them to let go. Second, there are two types, inadvertent and blatant. What you did was unintentional, so we¡¯ll chalk that up to the former. The latter is when someone rips your essence away from your control. They must possess the strength and the endurance to fight off the inevitable pain while channeling: the latter. The stronger the victim, the stronger the agony. Enough practice for the moment, I think.¡±
She grew pensive and poised to ask a question, her face betraying her collective thoughts. ¡°I have seen wizardkind and a goblin thus far. What about the elyfian? Why aren¡¯t they among the people of the realm? Are they all in the Enclave? I don¡¯t recall ever hearing about them doing magic, can they?¡±
He shook his head. ¡°The elyfian residing in the Vikal Mountains are a portion of the entire population. They, like wizardkind, are scattered throughout Ermaeyth. There¡¯s much history to be learned. Much of your studying, magical or otherwise, will be from scripts and other various compilations, as well as practical application. I can give you a brief summary, but I could never replace a book.¡± He smiled. ¡°The elyves are the gods of mortality.¡±
¡°What do you mean?¡±
¡°Well, when I say the gods of mortality, I don¡¯t mean they rule over us. They¡¯re the fairest people in the realm, docile. Elyfians don¡¯tmake decisions in haste and are masters of art, crafting, and war, but rarely move to the latter. Elyfians are considered a pacifist race; bloodshed is shied from unless all other measures are exhausted. Once, long ago, they entered into battle and brought a race¡ªthe goblins¡ªto near extinction. When they sound the war bell, best not to impede them.
¡°But more than war, they mastered magic and made an art form. They are near-immortal and keep away from the mundane and daily use of magic. You could say it bores them, is beneath them. They still have mages and teachers instructing the young, but most become artisans, builders, and craftsman. Only the dwaven out-shined them in the art of making weapons of war. But of making war itself, a caste of warriors called the Jaikari is outdone by none.¡±
¡°How¡¯s that possible? How can they be second to the dwaven? An immortal race should have perfected their craft by now, right?¡±
¡°They refuse to make weapons of war. Only when they declare war is when they make their blades, and they are far superior to the dwaven¡¯s weapons. After the war is over, each blade is destroyed.¡±
¡°Why don¡¯t they destroy their enemies by magic? If possible to wipe out their foe, why hesitate?¡± she asked. The master considered her curiosity. If she possessed the power to destroy her enemies, she wouldn¡¯t hesitate. Would she feel compelled or obligated to the people and the ones she loved to make sure their enemies never rose up against them again? The thought bothered him.
¡°Why would anyone wish that transgression upon any sentient race?¡± he chided her, breaking the silence. ¡°But to answer your question, like wizardkind, most can use magic, but not to the extent of wizards. Elyfian can¡¯t rely on their powers alone, few can. You, too, will most likely need to learn to use a blade or staff or even archery to keep yourself alive. But back to the elyves, even though they don¡¯t make weapons of war, they do make weapons of defense and sporting. They make the finest bows and arrows, as well as light, sturdy shields. Who knows what they do up in the Vikal Mountains. They prefer living in solitude rather than mingling.¡±
¡°Why solitude?¡±
¡°Have a care, Julie. Elyves seek solitude because wizardkind fear them. We¡¯re a nosy and fretting race. Why become involved with a race that fears you or tells you how to run your affairs? Wizardkind, more often than not, is closed-minded and prejudiced as a general rule. Why subject yourself to discrimination? So, their elusiveness makes wizardkind wary and fear will drive people to do shameful things.¡±
¡°Ever consider the reason they dislike elyves is because they are so distant?¡±
¡°Yes, young one, that argument has arisen on numerous occasions. The elyves, however, don¡¯t want to be scrutinized like a child with a wand. They¡¯re their own people and would rather be left alone. Sadly, it¡¯ll take another war for the wizardkind to realize that.¡±
¡°What do you mean ¡®they¡¯re their own people?¡¯¡±
¡°Long ago, elyves weren¡¯t so different than wizards.¡± He held up a finger. ¡°Let me back up to give you a better perspective.¡± He gestured with his hands as he recited. ¡°The druids were the first race to walk Ermaeyth. The archangels fell in love with the race and began to breed with them, giving birth to the first new race of Ermaeyth, the nephiliam. From the descendants of the nephiliam came two dominant races, wizardkind and elyves. Of course, there were subcultures within the two races. The first markings of difference between these two races are minuscule, but over time, the gulf between the two became more prominent. Wizardkind sought to harness magic, mold it to their will. They also became scholars of magic, science, agriculture, and general knowledge.
¡°The elyves, on the other hand, became only wielders of higher mysteries of the arcane, learning enough to augment what they sought. From our perspective, they seemed like vain creatures, obsessed with beauty and the ability to change anything to suit their pursuit of elegance. Needless to say, they experimented on themselves and each other, drawing out aristocratic features and enhancing areas of attractiveness. For all their beauty and conceitedness, they soon saw they¡¯d become easy prey to wizardkind. They took up the art of war, crafting weapons and armor of the finest caliber and honing their skills with augmented strength, speed, and agility to negate wizardkind¡¯s magical prowess. Until the Wizard¡¯s War, we never witnessed firsthand the beauty and ruthlessness of their prowess in combat.¡±
¡°Can you tell me of the Wizard¡¯s War? I only know generalities but not specifics.¡± He noted the dripping curiosity and eagerness from his student. What part of the subject did she hunger for?
¡°There are many theories on the war, which is the first thing you must understand. I don¡¯t profess to be a scribe of histories nor a historian. I¡¯ll tell you what I learned over the years from my studies and first-hand knowledge. Again, if you want to learn, I recommend a good book. The actual Wizard¡¯s War didn¡¯t begin when wizardkind entered but long before. That is a crucial point to understand. Not many accept this fact.¡±
She leaned forward in her chair.
¡°The actual war started an age before my birth with the elyves and the goblins. Why the goblins and elyves went to war is still a mystery.¡±
¡°You have a theory, don¡¯t you?¡± she guessed.
¡°I have theories like the next man, but now isn¡¯t the time to speculate. The elyves rallied and pressed the goblins on all sides. Many thought the elyves would end the race¡ªeven the goblins. In the end, the elyves pitied them for pushing them close to the brink of extinction,and they found restraint. The elyves destroyed countless treasures of their artisanship, their weapons of war. Only a few pieces are kept in museums as a reminder of both their skill and lethality.¡±
¡°But it was warranted, right? The goblins struck first, didn¡¯t they? If so, the elyves should hunt them down,¡± she spoke, an edge of resentment crept into her voice.
¡°That¡¯s what history tells us.¡± he answered cryptically. The low fire danced lazily in the hearth. He scrutinized the turmoil rolling across her face, thinking about atrocities ending before her time. Judas pondered his new pupil. Though energetic and full of wonder, another side emerged, one not seen while she slumbered.
She was ruthless.
This wasn¡¯t the first time Julie talked about taking a hard line against those who wrong others. In taking her stance, she skirted close to the brink herself.
Depends on where you stand yourself.
From where he stood, he found little difference between Xilor and Julie¡¯s hardline approach, except the former was inherently evil while she flirted with a gray morality. Before he caught himself, he started talking about Xilor and the war.
¡°Sixty-three hundred years ago, the war started between the elyves and goblins. Around twenty-nine hundred years later, Xilor announced himself to Ermaeyth. That¡¯s the time most consider the beginning of the Wizard¡¯s War, because we became involved. He reigned destruction, chaos, and death for a long time. But in the end, he was defeated¡ªat least, for the time being.¡±
¡°What was your role in the Wizard¡¯s War?¡±
¡°Various. I did fight on the front lines though. My first foray in the war came on the battlefield near Far Point. To reach Far Point, you must travel through the Corridor of Cruelty. The Corridor is in the mind of the perceiver, so I went through, and the journey took me ten years. At least, from my experience.¡±
¡°Your experience?¡±
¡°When we pass through the Corridor, you¡¯ll understand.¡±
¡°What do you mean ¡®when¡¯ we pass through? Don¡¯t you mean ¡®if?¡¯¡± Julie¡¯s eyes narrowed.
¡°No, when,¡± he corrected her. ¡°Anyway, my understanding grew from the knowledge of the Corridor, both about magic and myself.¡±
¡°You defeated the dark lord?¡±
Judas clarified. ¡°I stopped him, so I guess you can say defeat, but he isn¡¯t dead.¡±
¡°Why didn¡¯t you track down the dark lord¡¯s family and rid Ermaeyth of them or hold them hostage? That would solve the problem, right?¡±
Again, her hardline approach. Julie¡¯s idea, though sound in logic, lacked morality. Her view walked across a chasm of difference from Judas¡¯s own. The gnawing in the pit of his stomach didn¡¯t abate, knowing his duty required instilling her with morals and magic.
¡°Julie, it¡¯s much more complicated. Only a select few know of the dark lord¡¯s true existence, who he is. His family, if he even has one, may be innocent.¡±
¡°Do you know who he is?¡±
¡°That information eludes me,¡± he revealed in a flat, defeated voice.
¡°Why?¡±
¡°I found no trace of evidence for my suspicions. In reversed roles, I¡¯d erase such information. For a time, I thought I knew his identity. Many things about him seemed familiar to me, but the possibility seemed unlikely and improbable. I hated myself for many years thinking such a thing. I disgraced and dishonored someone¡¯s memory.¡±
¡°Who did you think he was?¡±
¡°Someone from my past.¡±
He knew Julie waited for him to elaborate. When he didn¡¯t, she prodded him further. ¡°Who? What did he do? Where is he now?¡±
¡°A good friend, and he¡¯s gone,¡± he said with a finality.
She is intrigued by Xilor. Our conversation has turned dark. What does she hope to glean from him?
¡°So what happened, did everyone think you died in your ten-year absence?¡± she asked. He remembered that he hadn¡¯t finished the story.
¡°No, my dear. That¡¯s how I perceived my time in the Corridor. I was only gone for a season.¡±
¡°Three months? How do you get ten years out of a season?¡±
¡°Like I said, the Corridor of Cruelty is all in the mind of the perceiver. The curse of fear is similar, but you don¡¯t fear the Corridor¡ªyou fear what it can do.¡±
¡°So, what happened during those three months?¡±
¡°I¡¯ll withhold most events because you¡¯ll pass through the Corridor soon. Within, you¡¯ll find your strengths and weaknesses, your fears and hopes.¡±
¡°So, you told me nothing.¡±
¡°I can only teach you so much before you must experience things on your own.¡±
The warlock floundered, bolting to his feet. He fumbled, digging into his robe as if a hot coal burned his leg. From a pouch, he pulled out a small mirror. A swirl of green fog obscured the surface for a moment before the face of a wizard materialized.
¡°Judas Lakayre, report to Ralloc on the morrow. The consul has an assignment for you. Bring the Wcic,¡± he commanded. The face faded in the green swirling fog.
¡°What was that?¡±
¡°A summon from the Kothlere Council. If they think I¡¯m going to come running back to them with you in tow, they¡¯re bigger fools than I thought.¡±
¡°Why wouldn¡¯t you?¡±
¡°I can¡¯t until I find out who¡¯s hunting me. Well, I assume me. That¡¯s why we¡¯re ¡®on the run¡¯ and not at my manor. Whoever is looking for you or me would go there first.¡±
¡°If they don¡¯t know where you are, how did they manage contact with you?¡±
He smiled. ¡°An astute observation. I linked my essence to this mirror instead of a fixed position like my residence. They can contact me, but not track me. You¡¯ve got to be one step ahead always.¡±
¡°What¡¯s a Wiz-sick?¡±
¡°What?¡±
¡°You called me one at your manor, telling me about the elder fairy.¡±
¡°Oh! A Wcic! It¡¯s an acronym for someone like you: wizardkind caught in crossover. It means someone with magical abilities from the Other Side.¡±
Judas walked to her mantle above the fireplace and retrieved the sole candle. He rubbed his fingers near the wick and a flame appeared. He placed the candle in front of her.
¡°Let¡¯s try again, but this time, with your essence.¡±
Chapter 15: The Betrayer
A bead of sweat gleamed on the Betrayer¡¯s brow. He had teleported recently, leeching his magical strength. He regretted making the journey without a horse, but he had no other recourse. The suns scorched him from high above. A dull ache festered in his feet. Without companionship and conversation distracting him, he obsessed over his ailments. His feet occupied his waking thoughts, but something else hurt, too.
His pride.
Admittedly, he was a coward, and the wound remained fresh. If he¡¯d come to terms with his choice long ago, he could find peace. But he couldn¡¯t. Beneath all his cowardice, a weak will afflicted him.
I¡¯d like to see others try to live my life.
The tenacity for conflict fled him, if it had existed at all. Thoughts of youth brought back fond memories and a tinge of bitterness. In retrospect, he had been an arrogant sycophant, basking in his personal gratification and shunning anyone who rightfully deserved attention. If they grasped his insecurities, his image would crumble away, abandoning him as hastily as his followers. In his false bravado, he hoarded many friends who desired to be like him, but in truth, he couldn¡¯t measure himself to anyone. Life, back then, had been a competition, and he won on charisma alone.
He loathed himself for the stupidity of youth.
Blisters formed on the bottom of his feet, and sweat clung to the spaces between his toes. His socks drowned in perspiration. The grass, thin and withered, a faint green from lack of rain.
In school, one of his classmates had been Judas. He couldn¡¯t stand the brat. Now, he wasn¡¯t sure if his opinion remained true or if misguided by youth. Truth or perception? Perhaps he¡¯d been wrong in viewing Judas that way. Did the fault lay with him? If so, it was almost as hard as accepting his cowardice.
Beneath the unforgiving Apor and Praema, the dual suns, his sweat didn¡¯t cling to his shirt and cool him off, but evaporated swiftly. His tongue swelled, sticking to the roof of his mouth. In silence, he cursed his decision to forgo a horse. When it came time to teleport, he couldn¡¯t port the horse, too. He didn¡¯t possess the magical command for such a feat. The Betrayer shrugged his pack higher on his back and cinched the straps tighter.
His frown deepened while his mind churned over the past. As an indentured servant of Xilor and on a personal level, his life seemed to be a series of failures. Pondering such circumstances made his stomach clench. The gods granted one reprieve in the gloom of his life. In Gryzlaud, sealed away from the rest of the world, two young women resided. Born a little under twenty-three hundred years ago, during the Wizard¡¯s War, Xilor held their lives in his hands. He used them as means to threaten the Betrayer into continued service. Whenever he became unruly, his master reminded him the cost of his service or lack thereof. Without those two girls, the Dark Lord held no sway over him. Death wasn¡¯t an option for him. He was certain if he died, his volition or otherwise, they¡¯d follow him to the Underworld. Xilor would make sure of it.
A faint, gentle breeze floated towards the weary traveler, and he reveled in the simple pleasure while it lasted. The cooling wind was a balm against his sweaty face. He raised the girls, Miza and Olga, since their infancy, taking pride and joy in their presence. When they neared the Age of Maturity, the girl¡¯s personalities shifted, growing apart in their contrasting individualities.
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Olga, prickly by nature, blithe and scathing, hungered for power and glory and was willing to do anything to achieve it. Her personality mirrored his in his youth. Miza was the antithesis, soft, sweet, and naively innocent. She yearned for knowledge, not power, which marked her as the outcast among the three of them. Despite Miza¡¯s differences from him and her sister, the Betrayer found her to be more fascinating, charming, and engaging. Unconsciously, he devoted most of his attention to her, but it was treacherous footing on a steep incline. If Xilor ever came aware of his attachment to her¡
Olga roiled with disdain, jealous and spiteful at the lack of attention. Olga¡¯s heart hardened against him and sought neither comfort nor pity. It was his fault. When he realized what his actions wrought, he tried to turn the young girl away from her path of resentment. His actions only drove her further down her path.
When Olga reached the Age of Maturity, she banished the Betrayer from her sight. Even though he wandered the same halls as she, he hadn¡¯t seen her for many years. He wasn¡¯t sure he desired to anymore. He still loved the little girl he remembered, but she¡¯d changed long ago. Even though they resided in the same palace, they might as well have been continents apart. Olga, he feared, was a lost cause. His heart rent every time he acknowledged that.
Miza, however, still enjoyed his company. She understood the good in him, the sacrifice he made, and his unbridled shame. He denied the goodness for a long time, the good that clung in some deep, dark corner of his heart. Where he proclaimed failure and weakness, she boasted his courage and strength. Miza knew the story of how she and her sister came to be in Gryzlaud Palace, how his actions spared her from the Underworld as an infant, and what he gave up. Most importantly, she was grateful. The Betrayer had nothing to live for, except her, his redeeming grace.
Her warm smile filtered through his thoughts, taking his mind off his aches and pains. Memories of her soft, sweet voice and merry laugh filled him with a buoyancy. He hoped once his current task concluded, the Dark Lord would allow him to return to Gryzlaud Palace. He longed to be near the vibrant young woman who saved him from self-pity.
He felt the slight pull of magic, a familiar sensation warning him of the approaching summon. He stopped and pulled the small shard of mirror from his pocket, grateful for the reprieve in his journey, but the face on the other end was not one he expected or wanted to see. Krurik, the dark lord¡¯s chosen successor, glowered on the other end.
¡°Tell the dark lord Judas has been summoned to Ralloc and instructed to bring the Wcic,¡± Krurik whispered. ¡°The council wishes to see her. I¡¯ll arrange her stay overnight. After he leaves the city, she¡¯ll be slain. No one will suspect my involvement.¡± Krurik cast a glance over his shoulder, towards the door he secreted himself behind. Though hiding in plain sight, he was still in the heart of Ralloc.
¡°And if he does not heed the summon?¡± the Betrayer asked.
¡°I know where he is. I¡¯ll personally oversee her death.¡±
¡°Makes my job easier. I need to give our master the good news,¡± the Betrayer said. Relief washed over him at the chance to get back into Xilor¡¯s good graces.
¡°Only an incompetent fool like you would,¡± Krurik scoffed. ¡°The Betrayer is a name unsuited for a cur like you. You¡¯re nothing. My betrayal is real, visceral, and daily. I hide in plain sight among the fools. I bring my master pride, not you.¡±
¡°Don¡¯t you mean our master?¡± the Betrayer insisted.
¡°No, mine! You¡¯re not an apprentice but a slave, a dog brought to heel.¡±
The Betrayer moved to cut the communication between them when Xilor¡¯s apprentice spoke. ¡°When I rise to take my master¡¯s place, you¡¯ll be the first to go, along with those cunts you love so much. I¡¯ll destroy all you hold dear, make you watch, and after you suffer, I¡¯ll kill you, too.¡±
The green fog swirled, and the image faded before the chastened Betrayer could come up with a retort.
Chapter 16: Julie
The flame fluttered, responding to her pull. A smile spread across her face. Illumination from the feeble light sparkled in her eyes.
Perhaps Judas is right, and magic comes with time.
Ever since she experienced her essence, the conjury came easier for her. However, it presented new challenges. The incantations he provided failed to manifest, so she started over with the flame, calling her essence. He wrote down two simple spells for her, but the magic refused to respond to her call. She released her influence on the flame before reaching out again. The fire churned, glowing brighter, the flame elongating before curling, bending, looping back on itself. Her smile widened. Julie threw her arms up in celebration but kept from shouting out her excitement. In this late hour, she doubted many remained awake. Judas retired to his room hours ago. Her smile faltered when she thought of her master.
Master? Such an odd word.
The world had changed for her, a rapid transition over the last few days, and she was still trying to catch up.
Earlier in the day, Julie took the warlock¡¯s advice and opened a book from the small bookshelf in her room. She alternated between influencing the flame and the books. A cover to cover reading was a feat she wasn¡¯t inclined to indulge in but rather skimmed through the short excerpts. Only when she found a passage that grabbed her attention, she read the section. The thin book, printed in the last year, covered various subjects. A small portion was written in remembrance of the Wizard¡¯s War and lacked the detailed events. The tidbits of information she found, she already knew, either from Judas¡¯ss Transference or his ramblings. But even as he talked, he withheld information. Julie was certain some of the information he hoarded was for personal reasons, but the general knowledge, the details, he held those back as well. Every time she asked, she sensed the weight of his gaze and noted ponderous thinking behind his azure eyes.
A trust issue.
He didn¡¯t trust her, and the path worked both ways. From his own mouth he stated his actions, taking her away from wherever and performing complex, untested magic on her. Granted it worked, but what if it didn¡¯t?
You¡¯d be dead, she reminded herself.
The edge of truth cut deepest, her reality hinged on what Judas relayed. But how could she discern the truth from uncorroborated testimony? Trusting blindly didn¡¯t bode well, and the less he trusted her, the more misgivings she had. He gave restrictive knowledge and sheltered her. She wanted freedom, the ability to choose what to learn, where to go. The distinct possibility didn¡¯t seem likely at the moment. Judas said someone hunted them, but she couldn¡¯t make sense of why they holed up in an inn when they should be moving. Couldn¡¯t someone find them once they reached their destination? Their journey¡¯s end eluded her but from the little hints she gathered, the place sounded secluded, off the well-trodden path. Seclusion meant isolation, and isolation implied a small location.
She sighed, and her insides gurgled. She pined to see Ralloc. Everything she knew about the city, and from the way Judas talked, sounded majestic. A massive hive of buildings and races intermingling throughout. An adventure! One she wouldn¡¯t have, not anytime soon. A spark of resentment flared in her, her magic washing out of her like a wave. The candle flickered, danced, and burned brighter, reaching higher than before. The sudden burst startled her, and she reined in on her emotions. The light danced and dimmed, shrinking back to its normal size.
She recalled her meeting with Staell and the thoughtful, brooding mood Judas opted for in the wake of the unicorn¡¯s departure. A conversation must have taken place before her arrival downstairs and whatever the contents of the exchange was, it bothered the warlock. His semi-petulant mood made her yearn all the more to know what they conversed about. Judas was a methodical man, lost in his thoughts more than not. That didn¡¯t bother Julie other than the absent knowledge, excluded from the internal monologue. What she¡¯d give to comprehend what he thought, his sentiments and moods, and what secrets he kept.
Perhaps magic can help you?
An intriguing thought, tantalizing. When she grew more powerful and controlled her abilities better, perhaps more opportunities would arise. Was that even a possibility, to read people¡¯s minds? The first reaction bore squeamishness. To possess such a gift would be an invasion of privacy, but the possibilities were too tempting to pass up. She would be aware when Judas lied to her, if he indeed lied, siphoning the secrets he held close, knowing for sure whether he warranted her trust. He would, after all, shape her near future.
Julie hated the impression of not being able to control her destiny, to be so reliant on a person, not able to fend for herself. By wizardkind standards, she was well over the Age of Maturity and an adult, but he lead her by the hand as he would a child. A bitter thought. True, she needed guidance; she held no delusions in that regard but was bothered by the way he led. He guided her with vague direction.
She recalled his words. I can¡¯t tell you what to feel; that must come from within. What in the Underworld did that mean?
Judas told her that he never trained someone from the beginning, a learning experience for the both of them. No matter how she viewed his sentiment, she found no way to deny the obvious truth. He seemed to be fumbling, bumbling through. Perhaps such rudimentary and elementary tasks were too menial for him. That would explain a lot. He may be a prominent master, but simplicities escaped him. She gathered that much from the small book she skimmed through.
The book she read offered two short passages regarding him within the slender confines. One detailing the legality of his banishment more than anything, citing him as the only exile within Ralloc and Marcoalyn domains and his branding of a warlock. Last year alone, he repealed his case three times to reinstate his citizenship. All were denied, a fact she knew before reading the passage. The second passage, as vague as the first, focused on his role in the war. A few of his notable battles were mentioned, including Far Point and his delayed arrival. The author summed up his greatest accomplishment in a few short sentences:
Judas Lakayre survived his twin brother, Josiah, and went on to defeat the dark lord Xilor. Details surrounding his ultimate victory are guarded secrets, and it¡¯s unclear who all is privy to such information. Regardless of his legal status or what title he was bestowed with, he single-handedly brought an end to the Great Wizard¡¯s War. We shouldn¡¯t forget the deeds of our heroes, no matter how far they fall, or the lost lives that granted us a future without oppression.
And that was it. Nothing more on his exploits, no details on his grand feats of magical prowess, just a few lines summarizing what everyone already knew. A waste of paper as far as Julie was concerned. Both passages mentioned nothing about the kind of person he was, his views, philosophy, religion, or political leanings. It wasn¡¯t beyond the realm of distinct possibility that neither writer knew him other than as a distant figure they¡¯ve heard about. Both wrote with a distant tone, annotating their personal feelings or lack thereof. Her stomach grumbled again.
Sighing, she stood, abandoning the comfortable chair and tossed the book on her bed. She tried sleeping earlier, but the elusive comfort abandoned her. Her mind churned with what the future may bring, where they were going, what magical abilities she may yet discover. One unaccounted bonus to not knowing who you were or what you could do was the aspect of newness. Each passing moment was a learning experience, discovering the world for the first time. Each day, she found out that it was a bad thing, too.
Julie opened the door to her room, peeking out into the darkened hallway devoid of life. A floorboard creaked in the distance. She snapped her head behind her, down the hall towards the end and Judas¡¯s room, a tingling racing through her body. The hall remained empty and dark. Her scalp prickled, but she shook the impression away.
It¡¯s an old building, probably just sighing.
A funny notion, thinking of buildings as sentient beings that sighed. A ludicrous thought, but one she didn¡¯t dismiss completely. Perhaps they could be?
Descending the stairs, she eyed the empty lobby and dining room. A fire crackled in the latter, and the lobby¡¯s candles burned brightly. Someone was awake at this hour to help late arrivals or wandering guest such as herself.
¡°Hello?¡± she called into the quiet. Noise stirred from behind the counter, through a door to a back room. A young man¡ªolder than her but not by much¡ªcame through, smoothing his clothes. His dark brown hair contrasted nicely with his pale gray eyes. He was tall, too, enough so that Julie had to look up at him. The smile she received was heavy with evident sleepiness, but seemed to wake up with her presence. She returned his smile with one of her own. He was attractive, even if he had just woken up.
¡°Good evening, Lady¡?¡±
¡°Uh, Fossard,¡± she stammered, remembering the alias she and Judas used.
¡°Lady Fossard. How may I assist you?¡±
A caress so subtle she never realized its gentle arrival. A soft stirring within her, a fluttering heartbeat. Warmth crawled, languid and salacious across her flushing cheeks, the familiar prickling in her tightening chest.
What can he assist me with? What am I doing here again?
Her stomach clenched and with it, the pangs of hunger reminded her of why she came down.
¡°I know it¡¯s late,¡± she murmured, her breath catching in her throat. She swallowed. ¡°Is there anything in the kitchens? A piece of bread or some fruit?¡±
He smiled again, a dazzling display of his teeth. The corners of his mouth tightened as his lips spread, a teasing, coy grin. It made him more handsome. ¡°Sure, I can snatch you something, but you have to do something for me.¡±
He wants me! she realized. ¡°What¨DWhat is that?¡±
¡°Tell me your name, Lady Fossard.¡±
What? That¡¯s not what I expected. ¡°Why do you want to know my name?¡±
His smile widened.
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Oh! He knows he¡¯s attractive!
¡°You¡¯re a beautiful Lady. Not many minor nobles come down here. I¡¯ve never even talked to one. How could I resist?¡±
She smiled at that, mistaken for nobility, an agreeable feeling. Somewhere through the haze of her mind, she remembered Judas¡¯s words about not using their real names. Since she identified herself as Fossard, she continued to play her role. ¡°Cynthia.¡±
He came around the counter, held out his hand, palm up. She placed her hand in his, and he brushed his warm, full lips against her skin, a delicate touch. ¡°The pleasure is mine, Cynthia.¡±
Heat crept into her face, her mind swam with a heady sensation. He stood to his full height, his head and shoulders towered over her. Even Judas would be half a head shorter.
From his closeness, she sensed more than felt his warmth. For the first time, Julie regarded him fully. His handsome face, tall, broad shoulders, and fair complexion though tanned from time not spent indoors. She even noted his hands before he let go of hers, rough, calloused, strong. She thought Todd attractive, but even the journalist didn¡¯t measure up.
¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± she asked, breathy.
¡°Does it matter to a woman of your stature?¡± he purred.
Swathed in cyan vestments to match the color scheme of the inn, his robes were of a high caliber of linen, woven with care. A simple gold threading embroidered the cuffs, a design reminiscent of a vine. His gray eyes twinkled, lingering on hers before she dropped her gaze to his chest, the plunging line of his robes showing more skin than she first realized. She fixated, his flesh calling to her, beckoning her, and she almost missed his soft words.
¡°I¡¯ll check the kitchens for some food, Cynthia.¡± He walked away to the dining room. Disappointment flooded her, realizing she asked him for something that would bewitch him away from her presence. She followed a few short steps into the dining room, her gaze lingering on his backside as he strode away.
Julie¡¯s pulse quickened as she imagined what he looked like beneath his clothing. Was it as dazzling as his smile? As gratifying as his face?
I want him! Shit! What¡¯s happening to me? I can¡¯t stop thinking about him. I must have him.
Her body thrummed as she hungered for him. She blushed again, turning scarlet, grateful he didn¡¯t witness her embarrassment. Her vision swam again, weaker this time. She tried to shake her head to clear away the vibes but that only made it worse. She took a step back towards the lobby and found her breath coming easier, then took another, and another. Her senses came back, a gradual regression through the fog.
Get out of here!
Julie heeded the advice and climbed the stairs, careful not to make too much noise. She didn¡¯t want to disturb the other patrons or worse, awaken Judas.
A fine time for him to show up!
She reached her room, the first door on the left of the second floor, fumbled with the key for a moment before making entry. Shutting the door behind her, she sagged against the wood as if a refuge and let out a deep, shaky breath. Tiny prickles of sweat beaded her forehead, and she wiped them away on the cuff of her sleeve.
What¡¯s happening to me?
A quiet rap on her door, two quick knocks, made her jump. Pride rippled through her for not gasping aloud. She opened the door, a small sliver, spying the man¡¯s face and the heady sensation returned as strong as before. Her vision swam, nearly swaying.
¡°Your food, Cynthia?¡± he whispered.
Her body shuddered when he called her Cynthia, like a cat¡¯s purr or silk drawn across the skin, and her abdomen tightened as did the rest of her body. The sweat returned, a thin sheen on her forehead, but this time, she resisted the urge to wipe, embarrassed by the thought.
The door opened wider, his frame filled the doorway, a striking figure. His hands held the plate out to her; a slice of bread coated with a meager layer of honey and an apple adorned the dish. To control the trembling of her hands, she clenched her fists at her sides before reaching up, taking the plate from him, and put it on the dresser beside the door. The food was far from her mind, almost forgotten.
¡°Anything else I can do for you, Cynthia?¡±
Before she realized it, she nodded. Her body quivered when she heard his voice, the way he said her name. ¡°Call me Cynthia, again.¡±
¡°Cynthia,¡± his voice rumbled in his throat, soft.
The moment carried her along swift currents. She reached out for him, kissing him, his warm lips pressed against hers. Her mouth opened, inviting; his tongue slipping through. A vigorous hand cupped her left breast, pinning her body against the door. The passionate persuasion crawled within her, called out and grew stronger. Each trickling second lasted a lifetime. The buzz thrummed through her body, building like the crashing of a gong.
He pushed into her room, her head resting against the door. A steady arm snaked around her waist, pressing her into his body while his other hand explored down her robes. The scent of earth and musk filled her nostrils. His hardness pressed into her, a wanton smile coming to her face. Her fleshed tightened, quivered, her pulse pounding in her neck. Hands continued down, reaching her groin, his fingers opening her garments. A few more seconds and she would feel skin on skin contact for the first time. Her robe opened more, fully exposing her undergarments. The other arm still around her waist hastily joined his exploring hand. A twinge at first, then a throbbing point dug into the top of her leg. The lecherous fog broke for an instance of clarity.
¡°Wait,¡± she said, gasping, chest heaving. Pulling away, she padded deeper into her room, and he let her slide out of his arms. She closed her robes, holding them shut with her arms crossed. ¡°I can¡¯t.¡±
¡°But you want to.¡±
Julie found herself nodding at his statement. ¡°Yes,¡± she stammered. ¡°But my father is just down the hall.¡±
¡°Are you worried?¡±
¡°Yes. You don¡¯t know him. If he wasn¡¯t here, possibly, but he is. I can¡¯t do this now.¡± The lie seemed to help. The haze cleared, and the distance she put between them aided in her recovery.
He smiled, knowing his hopes of conquest would succeed under different circumstances. ¡°Aren¡¯t you glad I never told you my name? Just another boy on the street.¡± He took a step backward, exiting the room, closing the door behind him. The wistful twist of his mouth was the last thing she saw. Julie went to the door and pressed her ear against the wood, listening to his retreating footsteps, half-sorry she stopped herself.
When the soft footfalls faded, she reached down and locked the door, not trusting herself or him. Casting a glance at her leg where the discomfort originated, she explored the cause, realizing her wand bruised her as his hand plunged downward. Thinking of the moment caused her stomach to flutter, reveling in the fleeting moment. The heady sensation abated, fading.
What was that? What caused that?
She turned, putting her back to the door, knees shaking. The slender volume she had thumbed through earlier fell into her view. In a moment of certainty, she knew. Two deft strides carried her across the room and she snatched up the small publishing. Pages turned until she spied the short article titled: Woes of Magelust.
Ever feel drunk but you¡¯ve never drank? Found yourself staring across the room at someone you never met? Chances are the magelust ensnared you. Another year has gone by with leaps of progress for the apothecary, pharmacon, and healers, but nothing for the magelust. Speaking for those few who have difficulty managing the menial task of blocking out other people¡¯s aura or dampening their own, I¡¯d like to see some progress made on this front.
Two percent of our population cannot block out auras, even though the majority of citizens can dampen theirs. It helps, but not enough. Even people who never sought a higher education in magical practice can turn the magelust on for those more sensitive to its pull. When will the lust become a social issue and be addressed? The Krey¡¯s bloodlust is considered a malady, why can¡¯t the magelust?
To date, the magelust affects far more people than the bloodlust. The Krey are a tenth of a tenth and then some of our population. The government should be looking out for the welfare of all its citizens. While pain can help break through the lust, chances are, nothing is available on hand to induce that pain, unless you are a Lord out with your Lady, and she slaps you for kissing the servant. For myself, and two percent of the population, it¡¯ll be another year of promiscuous encounters and strange entanglements.
Julie inhaled a deep draw and blew it out noisily through her nose. The magelust. It made sense. She, according to Judas, had a strong aura and had yet to learn how to block out other auras or dampen her own. Was she like the two percent or would control come in time? It was another question she needed to ask him, but would he tell her the truth or shy away and become elusive? Her belly growled again, and she closed the book, dropping it to her bed.
A glow outside her window caught her eye. Perplexed, Julie moved towards the glass panes. The illumination hadn¡¯t been there earlier. She pulled the thin curtain aside with the back of her hand and peered out. Flames crackled with life; an entire building engulfed in a towering inferno. For a moment, she hesitated, stricken by panic. Thoughts and scenarios flashed through her mind. The most prominent notion was to reach out and try to affect the flames with her essence, but this task was well beyond anything she could ever hope to accomplish.
A muffled scream ripped through the night, muted by distance and the glass. The cry for help jarred her out of her reverie. Judas, he can help! Why she didn¡¯t think of that first, she didn¡¯t know. She stepped towards the door, turning away from the window. A vibration, followed by a deafening crackle of sudden energy like distant thunder, echoed through the somnolent witching hour. Before the brontide abated, her sole window shattered, the fractured glass lacerating her back, the strength of the blast knocking her to the floor.
Her face smacked the floorboards, a wave of bright light and pain swelled, darkening her view. In the distance, she heard more screams, louder than before, closer too. The deck rumbled, a vibration she felt through the floor with the side of her face, footsteps thundering down the hallway. She was sure Judas was one of them.
Drawing her arms under her, she rose. A cold sentiment crept along her back but as she stirred, hot, sharp agony peppered her skin, the glass burrowing. A gasp escaped her, and her vision threatened to dim, shifting from hazy to in focus.
A new noise caught her attention as the thundering feet fell away; her head turned towards the door, tracking the origin. Her vision reverted, clear and sharp. A large, shadowed figure appeared on the outside the threshold of her room, the edges blurred, the face distorted in magic and shadow but everything else crisp and distinct. The being entered her room. Julie had reached her knees as the intruder clawed her throat, cutting off her air and ability to cry for help. Panic enveloped her, and she could do little more than spasm. Muscles seized, constricted; her breath became short and sporadic.
The face, a mirage, flickered and changed, shifting before her eyes between shadow and visage of creatures she had no name for, obscuring the identity. One seemed feline. Demonic, twisted, something out of nightmares. She perceived movement and grasped something plunged deep into her skin, both white hot and cold. Julie gasped, or attempted to, her mouth open. The hand released her throat, the blurred image backing away, and she slumped to her knees. A gust of cool air filled her lungs, enhancing the agony. Stars sparkled in her vision. Hands fumbled, traced the discomfort. With shaking palms, she lifted, beholding the dark, velvety red coating her digits. Her gaze flickered back to the doorway. The intruder vanished.
Her head slumped, catching the opaque protrusion still in her abdomen.
The ground welcomed her as she doubled over, slumping, falling to her side. Warmth pooled about her as frail fingers clasped the object. Infirm, she pulled it free. Her eyes rolled as the blade clattered to the floor, excruciating paroxysms washing over her. The compulsion to vomit was too hard to ignore, her body dry heaving, and she gasped for breath between each constriction of her insides. Touching the wound in her stomach again, she tried to hold her hand there, applying pressure, hoping to dam the blood and ache.
¡°Shades, it hurts ¡ help,¡± her weak voice managed.
Stop ¡ stop hurting; stop bleeding and let the pain end.
A memory flashed through her mind, Judas¡¯s face looming close, the words tumbling through her mind. ¡°You¡¯re not the first Wcic to come back from the other realm; you¡¯re the thirteenth.¡±
Her visioned swirled, blackness lingered on the edges.
Perhaps Judas was right all along. Everyone that comes across dies; I am the thirteenth Wcic to do so. I¡¯m no better, no different.
Her lungs burned, and she took one last, deep breath.
Chapter 17: Judas
A rumble in the distance snapped Judas awake. For a moment, in the haze of sleep, fading dreams, and the resurgence of memories, the Wizard¡¯s War manifested. He rolled out of bed, squatting on the floor in one swift movement, his knees popping. Hand extended towards his window, he sent his essence, a shield manifesting in time against the onslaught of energy. The window held but vibrated in his grasp. He heard shouts, doors opening in the hallway. His head snapped in that direction and he paused, listening.
Civilians.
Having slept in his inner robe, he shrugged into his outer robe and donned his sandals. He crossed the room and jerked the door open but paused a moment, forgetting his wand. He stretched out his hand towards the nightstand beside his bed. The wand leapt into his outstretched hand without the aid of incantation, and he slipped through the door. People filled the dark hallway; some stood resolute while others shuffled down the hall towards the stairs. Judas lengthened his strides, entangled in the current of bodies. At the base of the stairs, most patrons lined the dining room while others yelled at a tall, young man with dark hair. He looked sleepy and shocked, surprised by the sudden blast that shook the building and the throng of people pressing him for questions. The warlock paid them no heed as he slipped through the front doors.
The black night reminded him that dawn was still hours away. A wave of heat greeted him; bright orange flames destroyed his night vision. A gust of air whooshing overhead drew his attention, and his head turning to track it. Whatever cut a swath through the night vanished before he snatched a glimpse. A scream reached his ears, and Judas set off at a trot towards it. The air churned again above him, but this time he didn¡¯t bother to glance up. Few creatures possessed the ability of flight¡ªthe first, a dragon, but there would be more chaos if one were here. Another building flared in the distance, too far away from the first. Dragon¡¯s breath caused a wide range of damage, and more than one building would light on fire. Each blast erupted like lava and less like flames. This was a calculated, precise attack. Damage, terror, but no lasting effects.
Another creature of flight cut through the air, the dirt kicking up around the running war veteran. The creature landed in front of him. The animalistic features, elongated mouth with razor teeth, the giant, leather-like wings, and ears similar to the elyfian announced the arrival of a vampire. Because of the grotesque features, Judas realized this fiend wasn¡¯t a member of the elite caste but a lackey, a soldier. Judas stopped in his tracks, wand raised.
¡°You¡¯re a long way from Shadow City. I suggest you return before you cause more harm than your masters would want.¡±
¡°My masters serve another. It¡¯s his will we follow.¡±
Yells in the distances followed by another explosion drew Judas¡¯s attention for a moment, his eyes flickering from the creature towards the origin of the noise. ¡°You¡¯re declaring war against Ralloc.¡±
¡°War¡¯s inevitable to bring about change.¡± The beast shrieked and launched itself at Judas. Faster than the vampire could attack, the thought entered Judas¡¯s mind, and he released his essence, letting the magic manifest, a wall of fire between the two combatants. But the vampire, already in motion, couldn¡¯t alter its course; he hit the wall of fire, and the flames wrapped around the creature like a cocoon. Its shrieks brought a pang of empathy from Judas, but he understood the consequences if he released the monster. It¡¯d recuperate with the blood of the helpless. Another victim. A moment¡¯s decision to decide between the death of an enemy or the life of an innocent. The choice wasn¡¯t hard. The creature made his when he attacked. This would be considered an act of war.
The warlock didn¡¯t wait for the end. He took off again in the direction of the first scream.
As he ran, he took note of the carnage; Dlad City burned, falling like a city from the war. The destruction was nothing near the level he¡¯d seen in the past, but the shock was still prevalent. Screams erupted all around him as he sped on. For the briefest moment, he remembered the countless battles from long ago left buried and unspoken, but never forgotten. His body locked as he recounted the Wizard¡¯s War in a fraction of a second.
Cries pushed him into movement again. He shook clear the fog of war and sprinted to the southwest, the origin of the commotion. Smoke limited his sight. If this were a true vampire attack, he¡¯d catch more of them flying back to safety. Shadow City, a refuge of dark, spiraling spires and convoluted, intricate tunnels covered in a habitual state of obscurity, lay in the same direction.
The tiny bodies of goblins filled his vision as he ran. Some lay motionless, probably dead; others bled from lacerations or traumatic injuries. Rarely did one venture from their master¡¯s estate. Some families allowed a goblin to reside with them. Work ethic and loyalty were the cornerstones of such servants, but they were paid. Ralloc abolished slavery a long time ago.
Judas shuddered. One motionless creature reminded him of the goblin Julie had encountered.
Julie! I hope she¡¯s okay! Probably scared out of her mind. He surveyed the bodies around him and couldn¡¯t ignore those suffering. These people need my help first.
Shrieks ripped through the air as the warlock hurtled past a building blazing with fire. Thick, black smoke curled into the sky, a swirling pillar dark and dense. Flecks of ash fell about him, a snow marking the destruction. Wood creaked and groaned under the stress of flames, incinerating the establishment. A woman flung herself forward as he came close.
¡°Help me, help me, please!¡± she screamed.
¡°It¡¯s okay, my Lady. What do you need?¡±
¡°My friend, a goblin ¡ attacked by a wizard,¡± she sobbed, pointing southwest.
¡°What does he look like?¡±
¡°Dark hair, brown eyes, and a pointed goatee!¡± An all to familiar description kindled fury in the pit of his stomach. The woman clutched at him, wailing, choking on her heavy sobs.
The veteran shrugged off the woman harder than intended; she stumbled to the ground. He set off in a sprint, faster than before, caution forgotten. He drew on his magical essence to sustain him, to fortify his aging body. As he ran, swooping sounds slithered through the air above him. The diamond-littered sky against black velvet was marred by flying figures: giant bat-like wings attached to mutated wizardkind and elyfian traits. He couldn¡¯t distinguish their long fangs or distorted, animalistic features as they blurred by, but vampires were distinctive among the races. Indeed, they¡¯d been foolish enough to ally themselves with Xilor again, and doing so only proved Judas¡¯s theory. The Dark Lord stirred, attempting to return.
Their reflective eyes set deep in their black sockets; ears of thin membranes, engorged and pointed, full of webbed veins, perked from their skull. Judas rounded the corner of the next building. A staggering Poplu came into view, the council member holding a goblin enthralled in torment.
What¡¯s Poplu doing here?
¡°Let him go!¡± Judas bellowed. His eyes sparkled with rage. The command startled Poplu; his concentration broken, the goblin slumped in a heap.
Poplu smiled, slick and oily. ¡°Well, if it isn¡¯t the renegade warlock. Had I known you were in the city, I would¡¯ve hunted you instead. Such the hero, Judas, back in the war. Only a matter of time before the squeals of a woman would reach your genteel ears,¡± he snarled. ¡°The high and mighty warlock come to visit justice upon me?¡±
¡°Not another word or I¡¯ll be sure you are stripped of your powers and exiled to the Other Side for being the decadent, immoral man you are.¡± Even to Judas¡¯s ears, his taunting sounded hollow and flat. Poplu knew he was a man of morals and even cursing secreted proverbial bile in his mouth.
¡°NO!¡± roared Poplu. ¡°I witnessed this goblin myself, engaging with the enemy in cannibalistic activities. There¡¯s blood on his mouth, his teeth, his claws! When the enemy chooses not to talk, you must force them to confess! You hold no power over me, old man. You can¡¯t send me away to the hellhole you created. You blather of justice, fairness, and equality among us all. Look at him!¡± Poplu snapped, pointing at the ugly goblin. His curled fingers grabbed a handful of hair, jerking the small creature¡¯s head upright. ¡°He¡¯s an animal, a monstrosity! We¡¯ve lulled ourselves into thinking they are equal. A lie. I should silence your twisted tongue.¡±
¡°Step away from him, Vamor, or I¡¯ll be forced to take action!¡±
Poplu mocked. ¡°Against me? Your kind? A council member? Your vileness should wither and die! You disgust me, Lakayre! You¡¯d have us lay with them and breed, wouldn¡¯t you?¡±
Judas pointed his wand at Poplu¡¯s chest. ¡°Last chance,¡± he declared, voice soft but icy.
He would cast, but Poplu was too close to the goblin. Though certain he could hit the mage without harming the goblin, Judas withheld action. The moment wasn¡¯t life or death. Poplu needed to be coaxed away. Any stray energy would be deadly and hail dire consequences to the bystander. Goading him into the open was the safer.
The veteran didn¡¯t like stooping to his level¡ªa level of immaturity¡ªbut some tactics yielded immediate results. ¡°Duel with me, you arrogant, pretentious, bastard.¡± A taste of bitterness filled his mouth, and he ridiculed himself in silence for cursing. ¡°You know why you¡¯re a bastard? You mother writhed as the whore of the Underworld!¡±
The other¡¯s jaw tightened, and he shoved the goblin¡¯s head away, the small body falling to the ground, limp. A malicious sparkle came to Poplu¡¯s eyes.
Another slight push.
¡°You are nothing compared to your vaunted father, and he nothing more than a the seed of a troll¡¯s loins, siring piglets who¡ª¡±
Poplu burst into motion, wand raising with blinding speed, his essence rushing up, charging forth. A decapitating spell split the night.
The instant the curse flew, the black vapor closing on Judas, time slowed almost to a halt for the elder. This precious secret, Judas¡¯s most prominent gift, was one he should thank Xilor for. He side-stepped the oncoming curse, moving to flank Poplu, bringing his wand to bear on the councilman. The sounds exploding around the war-torn city dragged on, slowing to a dull pulse. Each distinct sound morphing into a single, thrumming resonance indistinguishable from the next.
Shattering debris crashing to the ground slowed, nearly-hovering in the air, movement too minute to perceive. Every sense of perception heightened, clearer and sharper than ever before. Minuscule objects loomed in his vision, everything from fault lines in the walls to the insects burrowing tunnels in the ground below his feet.
With deft flicks of his wrist, the counter-curse erupted from the warlock¡¯s wand. A silky, white mist shot out and swallowed up the black. In his element, Judas would appear to move faster than possible, faster than a teleport. Woven spells would cripple his opponent, one right after another.
The veteran cast dazzling luminance to blind his attacker and block his wand from casting again, a temporary solution, enough to give Poplu pause and the warlock extra precious seconds. Poplu, if worth his title, would remove it with ease. Another gush of conjury sailed at the younger man, to levitate the youth off the ground, and ended with a binding curse of invisible force.
Judas relinquished his grasp on time. He couldn¡¯t hold an absolute grip, for time didn¡¯t stop, but slowed to a crawl. The drift of normalcy soared back into full swing. Spell after spell hit the councilman.
Poplu gawked in astonishment, witnessing his target¡¯s relocation almost too fast to perceive. Before comprehension found him, Vamor¡¯s attack broke. While blinded, his wand shuddered hard in his grip, and a levitation rippled through, and his body constricted by an invisible hold.
¡°You think this will stop me? I don¡¯t need my wand to curse you!¡± Poplu screamed in disgust, spoken before he thought. Judas backhanded him across the face, his anger getting the better of him.
His wand level to Vamor¡¯s face, an expression of horror overwhelmed the youth¡¯s features. The warlock cast another spell in complete silence, the reason for his exile, his title.
Magic without words.
To Poplu, the sensation mirrored all the air sucked from his lungs, but the war veteran only took away his voice.
Exhaustion overwhelmed the aging man; fatigue riddled his body, limbs shaking. He bent over at the waist, hands planted on his knees. The sensation would pass, it always did when he reached out to slow time. As he got older, the ability slipped away, becoming harder to grasp without prevalent need. The hefty toll it exacted always gave him pause. It¡¯d been at least an age since the last time he called for it.
His lungs heaved, sweat broke out on his forehead; a sole bead trickled down his left temple. He wiped it away and stood to his full height. His knees trembled, hidden beneath his garments. His gaze slid to Poplu, who flung scathing glances, his eyes hard and unforgiving.
The weariness passed, his strength returning. The ability to slow time a far cry from ordinary. Now, the toll regressed, his vitality surged back. He could deal with Poplu and the wizard who sent him. Judas distinguished who directed Vamor. The Poplu House, a proud and ancient lineage who owed allegiance to none, fell in league with other nobility such as House Dathyr, the current consul.
The elder grabbed hold of Vamor and teleported back to Ralloc.
They appeared in the chambers; everyone stood around, milling about like a social gathering, most oblivious to their arrival. Consul Dathyr spoke up, his eyes widening. ¡°Lakayre? What in the Underworld are you doing here? We summoned you!¡± His eyes flickered to the disheveled council member. ¡°What happened to him?¡± he asked with dripping suspicion.
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¡°I happened to him, Kayis!¡±
¡°What in the Underworld did you do to him?¡± Dathyr pressed while trying to remain aloof. Judas grabbed Poplu by the neck of his robes and threw him on his back, his head smacking hard against the podium.
¡°I caught this low-life torturing a goblin when our paths crossed. A woman warned me of his vile deeds. Of all things, treating anyone who isn¡¯t wizardkind with cruelty. There should be no place for him on the council, let alone the realm!¡±
¡°Calm down, Lakayre,¡± Dathyr admonished, asserting control. Judas let him. He wanted nothing to do with politics, councils, or any number of related things. The ensemble observed while the charade unfolded. By tomorrow, it¡¯d be a whispered debacle. Peasants would know nothing of what transpired, but the upper tier of society would gossip for a fortnight or two.
Even though an outcast, Judas knew the people would listen to him, known for being a moral man and law abiding. Too many nobles were privy to what he did in the war. If he said Poplu tortured a goblin, everyone took his word as truth.
Judas¡¯s eyes searched those gathered, detecting eyes of wariness, of mild rebuke, all directed at the consul. The situation already nearly slipped beyond the young man¡¯s control. If he didn¡¯t handle this right, the lesser would lose faith and House Dathyr would lose face. With the loss of their belief, cries for his removal would follow. Kayis worked too hard to get to the top, and he wouldn¡¯t let it slip away because of Poplu¡¯s foolishness and stupidity to get caught.
Dathyr suffered all their eyes as he spoke again. ¡°Cruelty? What do you think you showed him? You¡¯re no better than he is. Guard your tone when you talk to me, Sorcerer,¡± Kayis taunted, reminding all that he was like Xilor in regards to magic, attempting to avert suspicion. ¡°I¡¯mconsul, not you. It¡¯s not your place to say who should sit on the council, or who should live in the realm!¡±
¡°Sidestepping allegations again? Deferring to the method of waiting and forgetting?¡±
¡°So, you witnessed him torturing a goblin?¡± Dathyr switched tactics. Judas surmised Dathyr¡¯s hope, to curb an inevitable defeat and displace the warlock.
¡°I told you before,¡± Judas replied, his voice even. Curiosity prickled the elder, wondering how the younger man would finagle his way out of trouble.
¡°A woman came crying to you?¡± It was a slithering question, oily.
¡°As you know.¡±
¡°Did you bring back these two? The alleged victim and the witnesses?¡±
Ah, that¡¯s how you are going to do it!
¡°Your eyes don¡¯t deceive you,¡± Judas confirmed.
¡°Your word against his? How convenient.¡±
The room thrummed in silence, the proverbial creeping chill of death sweep through. The acrid words between the two made the council chambers caustic. The sound of breathing from those congregated thundered as though trapped in a crypt.
¡°My word against his, yes.¡±
Dathyr shrugged a nonchalant and fluid movement. ¡°No choice but to throw this case to the Abyss. No witness, no testimony, no conviction,¡± he sneered. ¡°It never happened!¡±
Rage boiled through Judas, but he managed to scrape together a moment of composure, his spine rigid, his ire making every muscle taut.
¡°Don¡¯t even bother making a report about the alleged incident. As we all witnessed, yours would be quite biased. We couldn¡¯t trust your word after the events of tonight.¡±
Twit!
¡°But you¡¯re a wanted man, and we can¡¯t let you just go gallivanting around the country assaulting council members. That¡¯s a crime, one you must pay for. You also failed to bring the Wcic forward and heed our summon which is expected of you. You¡¯ll be remanded in custody.¡±
Judas chuckled. ¡°Not likely.¡± In a blink, the warlock teleported away from the chambers and emerged in a night filled with falling ash, the curling stench of smoke, and wet embers.
He and Julie needed to move again, tonight. It wouldn¡¯t take too long for the consul to deduce where he stayed and send people after him. Vamor could attest to his presence here. Judas would have to fight his way free and didn¡¯t feel like battling men who were just following orders. Any casualty would only further fuel the resentment Kayis directed his way and possibly incite others to follow his lead. There were more important things to do than worry about a spat between them. Julie would probably be in hysterics by now, and he needed to return to her.
Judas reentered the inn. A throng of people with tousled hair and sleep-deprived eyes glanced in his direction, but none gave him much attention. He slipped upstairs while idle conversation rejoined between the milling guests.
He reached the second landing, and his heart stopped. Julie¡¯s door stood ajar, a slight crack. At first, he thought maybe she had gone downstairs, but she would¡¯ve called out upon his arrival. His second thought was she entered his room, but a quick check with his essence told him she was not inside. Pulling his wand, he pushed the door open.
Julie lay on the floor, surrounded by a pool of blood. He burst into action, sliding to his knees beside her; the impact negligible as adrenaline swelled through his aging body.
Shades of the Underworld, how did this happen? Who did this? Such thoughts weren¡¯t important at the moment. She had to survive. A quick touch confirmed what he knew at a glance. Blood loss aided her cold skin, but relief and hope filled him when he found a faint, struggling heartbeat. He summoned his essence, harnessing the infinite energy and channeled it through her. A pharmacon mage would sputter incantations, but he didn¡¯t bother. Using his mind to direct and control the magic, he split his attention while he worked. The mirror swooped off the wall and hovered in front of him, swirling green. A sleepy face with squinting eyes against the sudden glare swam into view.
¡°Meristal!¡± he called, his voice shaking. ¡°Help me!¡±
¡°What happened?¡±
¡°It¡¯s Julie. Come quickly. Dlad City, Traveler¡¯s Respite, second floor.¡±
She didn¡¯t bother to acknowledge his words. To do so would waste time. Her face faded from the mirror as she turned away and hurried off. With a mental command, the mirror returned to the wall.
Judas¡¯s eyes roamed over the young woman, the panic rising. He could heal himself and others, but had limited knowledge in the healing arts. He needed a pharmacon mage and most resided in Ralloc. Meristal had a better understanding of anatomy, often doubling as a healer in the war. She could help him. All he had to do was keep the magic channeling and keep his apprentice alive until she arrived.
His hands shifted over the blood-soaked cloth, a golden glow about them, mesmerized by the cascade of energy seeping through clothing, blood, and skin. He closed his eyes to concentrate, feeling the wound. The laceration began to heal under his slow and meticulous care. He didn¡¯t wait long for Meristal to arrive. Even at this time of night, she was still beautiful, but he could tell from her disheveled hair that she hadn¡¯t bothered to make herself presentable.
¡°What happened?¡± she asked, kneeling down beside him.
¡°I don¡¯t know, but the trauma is consistent with a puncture. Perhaps a blade, but where¡¯s the blade?¡±
¡°We need to put her on her back.¡± They rolled her over, but Julie didn¡¯t lay flat. Meristal reached behind her and pulled an object from underneath the girl, a knife materializing in her hands. ¡°There¡¯s your blade,¡± she said, scrutinizing his face. ¡°Did you even bother to search?¡±
Once Julie was flat, Meristal situated herself opposite of Judas. Her hands placed, she closed her eyes for a moment, assessing the damage. ¡°If you didn¡¯t get here when you did, she¡¯d be dead,¡± Meristal said, her voice grim.
¡°Can you heal her?¡± The other nodded. ¡°Then, do it!¡±
¡°Does anyone else know you are here?¡±
Judas frowned at the question. ¡°What does that have to do with anything?¡±
¡°Judas!¡± Meristal snapped in a firm tone. ¡°This will take time, and then she¡¯ll need to recuperate. Judging by the carnage outside, something happened, and knowing you, you went out there to stop it. So, I¡¯ll ask again, does anyone know you are here?¡±
The warlock swallowed. ¡°The council.¡±
She swore, sharp and scathing before turning her attention back to the pupil on the floor. ¡°We need to move her, now. We need to take her to your house.¡±
¡°We¡¯re hunted, and I¡¯m sure the council will send someone there after tonight¡¯s events.¡±
Meristal nodded. ¡°Okay, but we can¡¯t stay here. Keep channeling energy into her and close the wound but do it slowly. I hope to be back before you get too far along. If you mess up, the less I have to reopen, the better.¡±
¡°Where are you going?¡±
¡°Cape Gythmel. I¡¯ll rent a room, and then come back for you both.¡±
Judas nodded, and Meristal vanished. He turned his eyes back to his pupil. Remorse filled him. He failed her, failed to be there for her, to protect her. And now, she was dying, all because of his stupidity and his penchant for leaping to action before thinking everything through. He should¡¯ve left the fighting to others, left the city as soon as the attacks started. Even as he thought it, he knew he couldn¡¯t. Yes, Julie was his charge and under his protection, but he couldn¡¯t let others suffer and possibly die while he did nothing. It went against the grain of his nature. He answered the call of war in his youth and continued to answer the call. Though battle piqued his blood and quickened his heart, helping others and righting wrongs called to him.
He wronged his student when he helped others tonight. No amount of self-loathing would change what happened or make it better. He didn¡¯t know how long he silently chastised himself, but Meristal reappeared what felt like moments later. Kneeling down beside Julie, she touched her for a moment before nodding. ¡°I¡¯ll teleport us. We¡¯ll go straight to the room, but you¡¯ve got to carry her.¡±
Judas scooped Julie¡¯s small frame up in his arms. It seemed like an hour ago he carried her through the Mirror of Imaesion the same way. He stood to his full height, Julie like a sleeping bride in his arms. ¡°Meristal?¡± he queried, voice soft.
She gave him a quizzical look.
¡°Thank you.¡±
She smiled. ¡°You don¡¯t need to thank me, Judas. I¡¯d do anything for you, but you already know that.¡±
Meristal placed a gentle hand on his arm, and he felt her essence surge, the room disappearing and a new room materializing around them.
¡°Set her by the fire,¡± Meristal instructed. The warlock knelt, laying his apprentice on the floor. Meristal, as Julie¡¯s head neared the floor, placed a pillow beneath. Judas felt Meristal¡¯s power thrum as she worked, searching the extent of the wound. After a few moments, she gave a thoughtful noise.
¡°What?¡±
Meristal¡¯s violet eyes looked up. ¡°The blade was also laced with poison.¡±
¡°Who would go through so much trouble for a girl?¡±
Meristal¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°You want to try that one again? I don¡¯t think you meant it the way it came out.¡±
Judas rolled his eyes. ¡°She, Julie, the girl, a Wcic. Why would anyone try so hard to kill her? What¡¯s she worth? Who profits from her death?¡±
¡°I don¡¯t think they were after her,¡± Meristal said, thoughtful.
¡°What do you mean?¡±
¡°I think it¡¯s a pretense to catch you off guard. You¡¯re the target; you have been all along, but now, you¡¯ll do anything to protect her, thinking she¡¯s the real target. It¡¯ll leave you vulnerable.¡±
Judas shook his head. ¡°That¡¯s absurd!¡±
¡°Is it? If you were my enemy, this is what I¡¯d do: something to lower your defenses so I can kill you.¡±
He snorted. ¡°Given it much thought, have you?¡±
¡°Yes,¡± she intoned, voice deadpan. ¡°I always had what-if scenarios in case you went rogue.¡±
Judas wanted to laugh at the absurdity of her comments, but her voice and visage gave him pause.
By the stars and spirits, she¡¯s serious. I¡¯d never go bad!
Meristal returned her thoughts and eyes to Julie, who lay on the floor, pale and sweaty. ¡°I need to remove her clothes. When I draw the poison out, the liquid will pool. If it soaks into her robes, it could get back into any of her wounds. And I need to pull the glass out of her back.¡±
¡°Glass?¡±
¡°Shades, Judas! Do you even pay attention? She¡¯s got dozens of shards in her back. Probably from the window. Help me,¡± Meristal chided, reaching for the sash that held her robes closed.
Judas shook his head and backed away. ¡°I can¡¯t.¡±
¡°You¡¯ve seen a woman naked before,¡± Meristal countered, scoffing at him. ¡°Fine! You don¡¯t have to help, but you can¡¯t leave the room. I may need you later.¡±
Judas turned away just as Meristal exposed Julie¡¯s breasts. He took a chair on the opposite side of the room, his back to them, the most privacy he could give them under the circumstances. Meristal didn¡¯t understand. Julie was more than an apprentice; she was a bastion for old wounds, buried memories, and a daily reminder of the daughter that was taken from him. Now that Meristal was here to help, he didn¡¯t need to subject himself to keeping her alive and healing her. Had Meristal never arrived, he¡¯d abandon all propriety to save her, but now, a boundary rallied within him, one he wasn¡¯t willing to cross. He shook his head to clear it.
The thought of someone hunting the Wcic and not him made little sense. He was by far the greater threat. He¡¯d defeated the dark lord; unless, of course, Xilor was aware of her presence, that would make sense. If Judas¡¯s old nemesis stirred, and he thought Julie allied against him, Xilor would seek to level the odds. The dark lord was ever so fond of checks and balances. Everything had a reason, a purpose, and executed with precision. Judas realized their possessions remained in Dlad City. He asked Meristal for leave to gather their belongings.
¡°Just hurry back,¡± she growled, haste cutting her words.
Judas complied with her request, returning moments after he left with his and Julie¡¯s possessions in tow. A flash of copious flesh was enough to avert his eyes, hiding his peripheral vision behind his hand and a curtain of long hair. He returned to the vacated chair, facing away from Meristal and Julie. Not long after, Meristal requested his aid, and he lent it. She didn¡¯t siphon his essence. A steady trickle of energy poured into her, bolstering her waning essence. All magic came with a cost. Conducting finite healing like Meristal did would tax her at almost double.
The warlock sat in silence, and he pulled the leather-bound manuscript from his traveling pack. His master¡¯s work lay still in his lap. Judas never understood the language, the strange archaic scrawling throughout the book, no matter how many times he looked at it. But it was important to his master and therefore to him. He would go to his grave trying to fulfill his master¡¯s dying wish. It was all he had left of him: his last words and an old volume.
¡°You shall never glimpse the pages, but can you understand the Bearer of Secrets is not a foe? You are entrusted with a special task¡ªmy greatest pupil¡ªwill you search out the Bearer for the rest of your life? You will do this! My faith is placed correctly, yes?¡±
The memory brought back a fondness Judas missed, remembering the gnomling.
¡°I¡¯m done,¡± Meristal declared some time later, her voice careworn.
Judas stood, closing the book and glancing between his charge and the kneeling woman beside her. Meristal was covered in blood, her hair tousled and bone weary. ¡°Thank you, Meristal,¡± he said, his words slow, laden with gratitude.
She nodded and held up a bloodstained hand. He crossed the room and helped her up. ¡°You look tired. Please,¡± he offered, hand pointed to the bed, ¡°catch some sleep.¡±
Meristal shook her head, a languid movement. ¡°Nice try. I got two rooms. I¡¯ll go to mine as I¡¯m not fit to teleport back home tonight.¡±
¡°As you wish.¡±
¡°You might want to put her in the bed, though.¡±
¡°It¡¯ll be done.¡±
She opened the door and stepped through, and once almost shut, Meristal stuck her head back in. ¡°Judas?¡±
¡°Hmm?¡±
¡°You owe me.¡±
¡°Put it on my tab.¡±
¡°I¡¯ll be coming to collect soon.¡±
The door shut behind her, soft and light.
His apprentice loomed into his drooping sight. Sleepiness tugged and called to him as well. Reaching out for his essence, he lifted Julie up and moved her to the bed. He honed in on the chair beside the bed, resumed his vigil with the gnomling¡¯s book in his lap. It was still hours till dawn, and he needed his rest as much as Julie.
Moments later, he too, drifted off to sleep.
Chapter 18: Julie
A warm blackness comforted her, a hazy sensation buzzing through her head. Her eyes opened cautiously, greeted by a harsh brightness. She squinted against the early morning glare of sunlight filtering through ivory curtains.
I thought they were cyan?
Her eyes moved to the figure beside her bed. Judas stared intently at a book in his lap. For a moment, either because she had just woken up or she wasn¡¯t quite coherent, she could have sworn the glyphs moved, dancing in her waking eyes. The thought was preposterous. Muted sounds returned, becoming sharper as if her ears were stopped up. The crackling of the fire serenaded her. Birds chirped in the distance, bright and cheerful.
The warlock¡¯s azure eyes flickered to her, and he smiled, snapping the book shut. His warm voice crackled with life. ¡°Good morning. Glad you¡¯re coming along just fine now. Gave us quite the scare last night.¡±
A woman¡¯s voice spoke up in the distance. ¡°Is she awake?¡± Worry saturated the voice.
¡°Yes, she is,¡± he called over his shoulder.
Julie stirred in her bed, opening her eyes wider, trying to sit up.
¡°This isn¡¯t my room.¡±
¡°No. We moved during the night. Welcome to Cape Gythmel.¡±
¡°Why?¡±
¡°What can you tell me about last night, my dear?¡±
¡°I went downstairs,¡± she stated, the memories crawling back. ¡°I was hungry.¡± In a flash, she remembered the handsome young man and the desires calling to her. Her will crumbling as his hand gently caressed her flesh. She omitted this. ¡°I got some food and returned to my room. I remember a light outside and went to the window and saw a building on fire and went to get you.¡±
¡°Anything else?¡± Judas asked, leaning forward in his chair.
¡°The building was shaking, my window broke, and there was someone or something else that came to my room.¡±
¡°What did this person look like?¡±
Julie¡¯s face bunched up as she tried hard to remember. ¡°Large. Shadowed, the edges blurred, distorted. It grabbed me by the throat. Its face kept changing, obscured. One face I saw clearly was feline, like a cat, but bigger.¡± She shook her head. ¡°I felt something here,¡± she spoke in a rush, moving her hands down to her abdomen¡¯s left side. ¡°My clothes, these aren¡¯t my clothes. Where are my clothes?¡± Judas leaned back in his chair while a movement caught her gaze. A woman stood from the long chair, moving over to his side.
She had vibrant shoulder-length hair, a dark orange¡ªalmost red, amethyst eyes, and pale, porcelain skin. She was short, probably the same height as Julie, but it was hard to tell from the bed. Her frame was petite, smaller in the waist but bigger in the bosom.
¡°I took the liberties with your clothing,¡± the other lady informed, her voice soft and sweet.
Judas cleared his throat. ¡°Julie, this is my lifelong friend, Madam Meristal Raviils. She helped me last night.¡±
¡°Helped?¡±
¡°They stabbed you, child,¡± the older woman stated.
¡°Right where you thought they did,¡± Judas finished, pointing at Julie¡¯s stomach. Julie looked down at her stomach, but she found no trace of the wound. ¡°Meristal healed you.¡±
A puzzled expression formed on the young woman¡¯s face. ¡°I¡¯m not ungrateful, but why didn¡¯t you?¡±
¡°Oh,¡± Meristal hummed happily in her throat, ¡°you were right, she¡¯s a quick one.¡±
Judas chuckled. ¡°Healing¡¯s an art form, much like painting. Meristal¡¯s better for such things. My gifts lie in a different direction.¡±
¡°Why was I attacked? What about the fire?¡±
Judas¡¯s mouth moved, and Meristal shifted her feet. They looked at each other before speaking. ¡°We¡¯re of different minds on this.¡±
¡°I think your assassination attempt was a distraction,¡± Meristal informed. ¡°The real target was Judas, but he wasn¡¯t in his room. He went to investigate the fires, and a good thing, too. Dlad City was under siege by vampires.¡±
¡°Attacked?¡±
¡°A small group,¡± Judas acknowledged, waving her worry away. ¡°Nothing like a battle, more of a skirmish. But yes, I wasn¡¯t in my room.¡±
¡°When they couldn¡¯t find him, I think they came after you,¡± Meristal finished.
¡°I have no doubt whoever assailed you is part of the people hunting us.¡±
¡°Any ideas on who?¡± Julie inquired, hoping he had an inkling.
¡°A few. Xilor¡¯s minions or an apprentice I don¡¯t know about. Ralloc, too; a council member was in Dlad City last night, and after I disarmed him, I went to Ralloc and sort of ¡ embarrassed the consul. So, possibly them as well.¡±
¡°You went to Ralloc? I thought you said the capital wasn¡¯t safe!¡±
¡°I couldn¡¯t sit idly by while a member tortured a goblin.¡± He sighed. ¡°Anyway, I returned and found you on the floor in your room. I called for Meristal, and she came and healed you.¡±
¡°You forget that I changed her clothes. Judas wouldn¡¯t have anything to do with that,¡± Meristal chimed in, a tightlipped smile forming.
Julie sent the woman a look of gratitude, and a small smile curved at the corner of her mouth. A thought crossed her mind, and she turned her attention back to her master. ¡°What about the thing that attempted my life, the shifting faces and the cat-like aspects?¡±
The warlock took a deep breath. ¡°I have a theory. Whoever it was used a curse from the Derengi branch, which brings out your worst fear; few know the branch, fewer would stoop low enough to use that pestilence. The only known counter to Derengi, oddly enough, is my own affinity, Rumigul. I digress. Since afflicted with amnesia, your worst fears are yet realized, but I have a suspicion you once were afraid of an animal looking much like cats.¡±
¡°Cats?¡± Meristal chided Judas.
¡°Big cats,¡± Judas clarified, waving his arms for emphasis.
¡°Wait! You¡¯re telling me I was attacked by a hallucination?¡± Julie interrupted.
¡°Yes and no,¡± Meristal offered. ¡°The person was real but came as a hallucination.¡±
¡°The Derengi curse allows the receiver to visualize something they greatly fear, and the subsequent attack masked their true presence. I wanted to bring the weapon but left it in the event they could trace it through magic. If the blade were in our possession, it would be like a beacon to our location. The attacker came close to you and stuck the knife into your stomach before leaving you for dead, which was good as you are still alive.¡±
¡°Good? I nearly died, and you say good?¡±
¡°Of course good! Unbeknownst to your attacker, you possess an affinity to heal.¡±
¡°What¡¯s so special about Derengi?¡± Julie asked, rubbing her eyes.
¡°Derengi is an afflicting magic, capable of spreading diseases and afflictions not only of the body but the mind and soul.¡±
¡°I don¡¯t follow, about me being a healer. I can barely call my essence.¡±
Meristal chided Judas. ¡°Judas, speak in full, simple terms. She doesn¡¯t understand. She¡¯s not inept, just not educated.¡±
Judas huffed, swept his long hair past his ears and scooted forward in his chair. ¡°Your wand was made with the wing of a fairy and a tress of hair from a unicorn. Of all in Ermaeyth, those two races bear the highest affinity for healing. You and the fairies share a bond, and they¡¯ll give you life and aid as long as they are alive. Even if they all died and only one survived, as long as one fairy lived, you would, too, barring something catastrophic like decapitation or worse.¡±
¡°The fairies kept you alive; the hair of Staell augmented that,¡± Meristal explained.
¡°I remember Staell saying something about healing when he gave me his hairs for my wand. Is that what he meant by me being a healer?¡±
¡°In short, yes. You have a greater ability to heal yourself, to fight off disease and infections, or even afflictions from spells,¡± Meristal admitted, sliding into the conversation with ease. She held herself with a tranquility Julie knew she would never attain. The woman seemed at peace. Julie couldn¡¯t help but be captivated by her charismatic charm. Even her smiles seemed wholesome and special, just meant for her. ¡°Once you learn to harness your essence properly, you can direct your healing energies to others, healing them with the slightest touch. If what Judas says about your aura is true, perhaps you¡¯ll be strong enough to heal without touching them and heal from a distance.¡± Her smile widened. ¡°I¡¯d be very interested in witnessing the achievement.¡±
¡°Is that possible?¡±
Meristal nodded.
Julie turned her eyes back to Judas. ¡°Who can cast these Derengi spells?¡±
¡°Aren¡¯t you always the investigator? The attacker could be anyone with enough potential to invoke the curse. It¡¯d be simpler to find out who can perform Derengi, and how they learned, and who instructed them. Beasts and sentient beings of the realm control a natural presence about them similar to the spell. Wizards can mimic the effects but with difficulty. What¡¯s natural for creatures becomes sinister in the hands of a mage. Again, I hold to the belief of an unknown agent of Xilor.¡±
¡°So, a creature? Can we track them down?¡±
Judas shook his head. ¡°I didn¡¯t bring the blade with me, but that doesn¡¯t mean I didn¡¯t inspect the weapon. The knife was of centaur origin, but they couldn¡¯t have orchestrated the attempt because their magical skills are far too feeble. And there are other obvious reasons, I might add. We shouldn¡¯t rule out more than one culprit, either. Perhaps a team, a goblin to formulate the affliction, and a wizard to carry out the deed. Never rule anything out.¡±
¡°So, how do we find out?¡±
¡°Well, we don¡¯t, and we do. We must find out who¡¯d profit the most from your death. You might scare wizards because they¡¯reuncertain of you¡ªyou¡¯re something new and strange¡ªbut that wouldn¡¯t be a reason for them to want your death. The centaurs hold tightly to their strong prejudices against everything. Most of them, at least. You¡¯re still too young in training to be a threat. Goblins I¡¯d almost rule out as improbable but not impossible. With the vampire attack last night, I¡¯m more inclined to lean towards that theory. They¡¯re agents of the dark lord and cultivate that unique ability, a side effect of their creation using alchemy and Derengi. The pieces fit together almost too perfectly for coincidence, but they¡¯re unaware of your existence.
¡°Dwaven, unicorns, and elyves we can rule out because they¡¯re not violent unless provoked. Fairies don¡¯t apply because of the bond between the elder fairy and you, marking you the Head of Creatures. Sheols, saricrocians, and gorrillians we can also rule out. When a sheol is spotted, the alarm is sounded, and everyone bands together to hunt them down. Most cities and villages invoke spells and wards to trap them if they came too close to civilization. Saricrocians and gorrillians are too large to fathom even.¡±
¡°Gorrillians and saricrocians?¡±
Judas was about to go into an explanation when Meristal cut him off with a gesture of her hand. ¡°A lesson you can have on the way, Judas. Now we need to get her ready and get you two on the road. Don¡¯t fill her head with conspiracy theories.¡±
¡°I wasn¡¯t¡ª¡±
She cut him off again. ¡°More important than branches of magic, murder weapons, and creatures ¡ who knew you were in Dlad City? Who could track you down?¡±
The warlock grew pensive. ¡°Staell, you, and a few dozen people at the inn.¡±
¡°Todd,¡± Julie added, her voice small. Meristal arched a thin, attractive eyebrow at her, a smirk of knowing on her face, but the smile faded when she turned her attention back to Judas. ¡°You let that buffoon know you were in Dlad City? He could be the one who assailed Julie!¡±
Judas rolled his eyes, and Julie tried to shrink back in her pillow, sensing an argument arising. ¡°The buffoon as you said can hardly cast the spell to make his quill scratch out the words spoken. He uses journey stones to travel.¡±
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Meristal shrugged. ¡°So?¡±
¡°If he can¡¯t teleport, and uses journey stones, he doesn¡¯t command the power to call on Derengi. An improbable impossibility! Where would he receive such training? That¡¯d take years to master, ages, and he¡¯s scarcely an era out of school.¡±
Meristal held up a hand to cut him off. ¡°Fine Judas, fine! You¡¯re far too trusting. It¡¯ll be your downfall.¡±
¡°Are you saying you don¡¯t want me to trust you?¡±
Meristal rolled her eyes. ¡°I think you know me better than everyone else combined, and I know you far better than any journalist would ever dream of uncovering.¡± Her voice dropped lower, softer. ¡°Do you forget how many times I was by your side? Burying loved ones, surviving friends, in battle, in¡ª¡± she stopped suddenly, a look of hurt coming to her watering eyes.
Meristal¡¯s amethyst gaze caught Julie watching the exchange unfold. She swallowed, a flush rising in her face, and she hoped she had the courage to break the sudden silence. ¡°Are you two married?¡±
Meristal burst into a bright, bubbling laughter, covering her mouth with her hand while Judas shook his head in silence. Julie changed the subject, hoping to distract them, break the tension and the awkward moment. ¡°How are we getting to where we are going? Journey stones?¡±
The warlock snorted, standing. ¡°We¡¯ll be walking and teleporting. Since we are in the Cape, the Corridor is near. Afterward, we¡¯llteleport to where we¡¯re going.¡±
¡°So, I¡¯ll learn to teleport?¡± Julie begged, hopeful. She pushed the quilt away from her, swinging her legs over the side of the bed.
¡°You have to be capable enough to complete the journey, and you have the potential, but your control needs mastering. We must work on your ability to reach out and have it respond to your will. Teleportation is the simplest way to get around, but fatal if done incorrectly.¡±
¡°That doesn¡¯t sound easy!¡± Julie said, standing.
¡°He said simplest, not easiest,¡± Meristal reminded her. She moved away from the warlock and Julie, her arms crossed over her stomach. Most people appeared standoffish in this pose, but she managed it with grace. Her arms seemed to drape about her in elegance.
¡°There¡¯s also the visible element to teleportation. If someone teleports near you, you can perceive the aura if you¡¯re more powerful, or if they haven¡¯t mastered their essence. In addition to teleporting, there¡¯s winking and blinking. Blinking¡¯s a precursor to winking. Blinking¡¯s moving between two points near instantaneously, but the distance is short comparative to teleport or winking. Winking is just the same as teleporting but no cast time and no visible elements; you can¡¯t even feel the surge of aura before their arrival. Only the most powerful can wink in and out of places.¡±
¡°So ¡ they¡¯re pretty much the same?¡± Julie argued, her words were drawn out. They all sounded the same to her.
¡°Well¡ª¡± Judas started.
¡°Yes, they¡¯re the same, in concept,¡± Meristal chimed in, cutting the warlock off. She shook her head at Judas. ¡°You¡¯re going to bore the poor girl to death and badger her with technicalities; not everything needs to be so long-winded, deary.¡±
Judas¡¯s lips moved, but he said nothing to Meristal. To Julie, he spoke. ¡°To answer your question, Julie, we¡¯ll utilize the teleport to cover great distances. I¡¯ll teach you what I can, or at least the theory of how, but it¡¯s far too dangerous for you to attempt. Promise me you won¡¯t be foolish.¡±
¡°Promise!¡± she affirmed, both giddy with excitement but solemn in her vow.
¡°If separated by some chance during our journey, you can visit any city and ask a journeyman to port you to wherever you want to go. The destination¡¯s Wizard¡¯s Pass. I¡¯ll give you some money before we set off if that happens.¡±
¡°Journeymen are the guys with the stones, right?¡±
¡°Correct! They craft and charge stones to teleport the user where they need to go, but once invoked, it becomes a one-way trip. All the energy will deplete afterwards and are more expensive the further you travel. Their cousins-in-cause, the Portal Masters, take groups. Now then, I¡¯ll inquire with the innkeeper about some food for our journey. Excuse me.¡±
Judas left the room, and Julie grew conscious of Meristal appraising her.
Breaking the growing silence, Julie murmured. ¡°Thanks for changing my clothes.¡±
The older woman smiled and winked at her. ¡°Well, Judas wouldn¡¯t. He¡¯s far too prudish, even if the situation, like yours, warranted it. But I sensed something when I addressed your wounds. The remnants of lust? Did you copulate before the incident?¡±
¡°No!¡± Julie said, her answer swift and resolute. ¡°Almost, but no.¡±
¡°If you did, don¡¯t be ashamed. I¡¯m amazed you had the fortitude to fight off the magelust. The fact you did implies the longing lacked strength. Perhaps the fault lay with the man. Was it a man?¡±
Julie nodded. The fact that she could go into lust with a woman never crossed her mind, an impartial yet intriguing idea.
¡°One day, you may face one too compelling to fight.¡±
¡°Any advice?¡±
Meristal¡¯s lips poised, hesitating to speak. ¡°Enjoy the moment, regret afterward, move on. It¡¯s the only thing you can do, I¡¯m afraid.¡±
¡°Have you ever been affected by it?¡±
Meristal nodded, a slow movement. ¡°Yes.¡±
¡°Did you regret the moment of indecision?¡±
This time she shook her head, and a small smile spread across her face. ¡°Don¡¯t tell Judas. It would tarnish the image he built up around me.¡±
Julie remembered the question she wanted to ask Judas, about the two percent of the population, but now that he wasn¡¯t here, a comfort settled over her about inquiring. ¡°Am I like all the others who can¡¯t filter out the lust, or will I master the technique in time?¡±
Meristal shrugged. ¡°Let me tell you something that¡¯s very much against the accepted quo of each Rallocan. The people of Ralloc are a pretentious lot, prudish and closed-minded. Probably has to do with all the nobility and the city¡¯s long history. Speaking as a foreigner to the capital, don¡¯t be too quick to dismiss or shut down everything. Judas is fairly progressive as far as open-minded people go, but in certain matters such as this, I¡¯d caution against broaching the subject. His prudish Rallocan side balks of such talk. If you need someone to talk to, I¡¯mhere for you. Having been one who entered the magelust, it¡¯s not as bad as most people make it out to be. Everyday people have sex; they make love with their wives or husbands or lovers, and no one bats an eye. Lords and arystos frequent brothels and bed mistresses, a duality of their culture that reigns supreme. It¡¯s okay for the men but not for the women? Rubbish! Don¡¯t let the confines of society define you. I¡¯d suggest be a lady and keep your private life veiled in secrecy, but never shame your choices, especially if you reside in Ralloc.¡±
¡°Is there anyone I won¡¯t go into the magelust with?¡±
Meristal shrugged again. ¡°Sure. Everyone says the magelust is more to do with aptitude and the inability to ward yourself. That¡¯s true to an extent. A natural attraction is another part. If you view someone as old and infirm, or see a close friend like a family member, the magelust won¡¯t work. Most who enter the lust are around strangers.¡±
¡°Well, that explains why Judas never triggered lust within me.¡±
Meristal¡¯s smiled widened. ¡°Very true. He does seem too old or fatherly.¡± She smiled. ¡°He was also warding himself and dampening his aura.¡± Meristal glanced at the door and back to Julie. ¡°Better get dressed while he¡¯s gone.¡±
Julie went to her pack, heeding Meristal¡¯s advice, and dressed quickly. The other woman was kind enough to give her privacy by turning her back. Meristal claimed the long chair while Julie dressed. She shrugged into her robes of forest green and tan, the outer and inner robes, respectively. Dressed, she moved to sit beside Meristal on the long chair.
¡°How long have you and Judas been friends?¡± Julie asked as she sat.
¡°Since the war. A long time.¡±
¡°He¡¯s trained a lot of apprentices?¡±
Meristal arched an eyebrow. ¡°Having trouble?¡±
Julie winced. ¡°Yes, but I think it¡¯s more to do with me than him.¡±
The other chuckled, something warm in the back of her throat. ¡°Our established friendship goes back a long time. I think it¡¯s safe to say it¡¯s a matter of both, not just you. Judas has great abilities and is a superb teacher for those he doesn¡¯t teach from the beginning. He¡¯s a reserved man and likes to hold things close to his chest.¡±
¡°Secrets?¡±
¡°Perhaps.¡±
¡°Secrets involving me?¡±
Meristal¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°Probably, but he keeps secrets from me. You either learn to live with it, or it drives you away. I get a distinct feeling it¡¯ll do the latter to you. Address this with him. He¡¯s not an unreasonable fellow, just set in his ways.¡± She smiled. ¡°Has he mentioned me?¡± Julie tried to think back and shook her head. ¡°Typical,¡± Meristal snorted. She leaned forward, conspiratorial-like. ¡°Well, I¡¯m sure he¡¯ll get around to it. I¡¯m an Apparel.¡±
Confusion flickered across Julie¡¯s face, and Meristal explained. ¡°I can change my features at will.¡±
¡°What? Can you teach me?¡±
Meristal smiled. ¡°In time, maybe. Not now. From what Judas has said, you¡¯re having trouble getting your essence to respond. Once you obtain better mastery, I could teach you, as long as the affinity is there. It¡¯s a rare gift.¡±
¡°Can you show me?¡± Julie quizzed, excited. Meristal smiled, and her amethyst eyes changed colors to match Julie¡¯s own amber hue and then slid back to purple. ¡°By the gods! Are there others like you?¡±
Meristal¡¯s face faltered, an emotion flaring into existence for a fraction of a second before she composed herself. Julie witnessed the myriad of expressions dancing in front of her eyes. ¡°Yes, there are others, but I only know of one. Daylynn Reese. She¡¯s a member of the Kothlere Council.¡± She waved the subject away. ¡°I don¡¯t have anything polite to say about the woman, so it¡¯s best not to say anything.¡± Meristal leaned back, changing the subject. ¡°Has he told you about the archangels?¡±
Julie shook her head, her eyes widening. ¡°No, he hasn¡¯t! You¡¯ve seen them?¡±
She nodded. ¡°They¡¯re steeped in majestic power. You can feel it roiling off of them. Their wings are large, white¡ªalmost transparent like a unicorn,¡± she recalled the memory, her voice charming and bright. ¡°They¡¯re the fiercest creatures in the entire realm, if inclined. Beautiful and deadly, with brilliant, strategic minds, but rather emotionless, almost apathetic. If you see them, don¡¯t run. Your first reaction is panic; it¡¯s natural. If you run, they¡¯ll sense your terror and rationalize you¡¯re afraid because you¡¯re evil. They¡¯ve been known to kill.¡±
¡°How many times have you been around them?¡± Julie asked, dumbfounded.
¡°More than anyone else, as far as I know.¡±
¡°Enough to be old hat?¡±
¡°Old and worn and patched back together again,¡± Meristal answered, a chuckle escaping her.
¡°So, who¡¯s your student? Where are they? Are they here with you?¡±
¡°I don¡¯t have one, hon, not for a long time,¡± Meristal lamented. Julie watched the other¡¯s face settle in a visage of deep remembrance.
A brittle silence filled the gap between them, and Julie tried to ease into returning to the conversation. ¡°Well, you can teach me something!¡± she said, smiling.
¡°No, I¡¯m afraid not.¡±
¡°Why not? Is there a law against it?¡±
¡°No¡.¡±
¡°Well, then, there isn¡¯t an excuse, is there?¡± Julie reasoned, not giving Meristal a chance to back out.
¡°Well¡¡± apprehension clouded Meristal¡¯s face, and she cast a wary glance back at the door.
¡°Oh, come on. It won¡¯t be that bad, will it? I mean, sure, I¡¯m pretty much terrible, but I¡¯m sure you can show me something that¡¯llhelp.¡±
¡°Why do you say you¡¯re terrible?¡±
¡°Other than a few basic spells, my magic always flounders. I can never complete a task on my own. I think Judas and the fairies are wrong. I can¡¯t be the mage from their myth.¡± Julie read the doubt on Meristal¡¯s face, not in regards to prophecy, but inner doubt.
¡°If it¡¯ll boost your esteem, then who am I to deny such a request?¡± Meristal relented, sighing. ¡°Best not tell Judas. We skirt a taboo, teaching another¡¯s apprentice without expressed permission. Alright, what has Judas taught you so far?¡±
Julie discerned the uneasiness of her voice and the instructive intuition creeping forward. After a moment of reflection, she realized Judas hadn¡¯t divulged much. ¡°He made me find my essence by trying to influence a candle. It was late last night when I finally started to sense it, and I managed to bend the flame without resorting to emotions. And he showed me enhanced vision, but that ended in disaster.¡±
¡°Is that all he taught you, child?¡± Meristal asked skeptically.
¡°Er¡ªyeah, pretty sure,¡± Julie answered, her voice guarded. ¡°He showed me the incantation to levitate; he wrote it down for me, wanting me to practice on my pillows, but I couldn¡¯t lift them. I think the incantation is as broken as I am.¡±
¡°I see,¡± Meristal said solemnly. ¡°How are you ever going to make it in the Corridor with such little knowledge? Very well, here¡¯s something that¡¯ll definitely help you. Pull out your wand.¡± She motioned her arms together as if she were drawing curtains shut in the air and muttered something quickly under her breath. A skittering hush fell over the room, the curtains drawing shut along their rails, engulfing the room in darkness.
Julie took out her wand, and Meristal instructed her on the incantation. She repeated the word several times, each syllable stressed.
¡°Okay. Now you try,¡± Meristal instructed.
The young woman pointed her wand steadily and spoke the incantation. The white tip of her wand spewed a tiny, bright light.
¡°Now, point it at an object in the room.¡±
The apprentice complied, and the speck of light shone brightly against every surface she pointed it at, and she giggled with excitement.
Meristal was about to say something but stopped, her ear turning towards the door. She muttered under her breath again, and the curtains flung themselves back open. Light flooded the room, revealing Judas.
¡°Teaching again, are we?¡± he teased Meristal.
¡°Better than you, apparently,¡± she retorted.
Judas turned to Julie. ¡°Could you give us a minute? Grab your bag and wait outside for us, please.¡±
Julie left silently, but her spine stiffened as she walked between the two friends. She didn¡¯t feel like hovering against the door. While curious as to what they were going to talk about, it felt too much like eavesdropping, her face hot with shame. Somehow, Julie knew she¡¯d be the center of discussion behind the closed door, but for good or ill? What else would Judas say or not say about her?
She retreated down the stairs. The new inn was much smaller and only two stories, four rooms to each floor. Julie didn¡¯t stop at the front desk, where an old man with wispy gray hair gave her a withering glance, his lips moving as he mumbled something under his breath.
Outside, warmth greeted her, the morning air much hotter than Dlad City had been. From the Transference Judas performed, she had a rudimentary idea of where Cape Gythmel was on a map. It was south by southeast of Dlad City, but she couldn¡¯t recall how far south it was. The Corridor was just outside the Cape by a league, and Gythmel was the furthest south settlement in Ralloc¡¯s domain. Once through the isthmus, they¡¯d be in the Marcoalyn domain.
A bird twittered, and Julie¡¯s head turned in that direction, hoping to catch sight of the winged creature. She saw a streak of blue and a flutter of wings and it was gone. Few pedestrians walked around the small town which boasted a dozen buildings. It wasn¡¯t even a quarter of the size of Dlad City. Julie could see all ends of the town from her current position. She glanced to the north and the large, rising blue sun.
Apor, she recalled. I wonder if Praema will rise today as well.
A galloping horse drew her attention back towards town, and she watched a man drive his steed hard through the main street, his leather reins hitting the backside of his mount. ¡°Hyah!¡± the rider accented with each smack. He thundered past without a backward glance.
The door to the inn opened behind her, and Julie watched Judas and Meristal exit. She tried to read their body language but couldn¡¯t glean much from it. Their expressions were blank.
What did they talk about? Did they talk about me? Is it about one of those secrets Meristal mentioned?
For the first time, it struck her that there may be more to the Judas-Meristal relationship than they let on. How did two friends who survived the Wizard¡¯s War together never become romantically involved? She wanted to ask now, but the timing wasn¡¯t right. She could ask Judas later and judge his reactions. Would he hold back or lie outright? Reluctantly, she let the question fade away.
Today was the start of her trip through the Corridor of Cruelty. Apprehension snaked its way through her, and even though she didn¡¯t fully trust Judas and his openness, she didn¡¯t worry about her safety.
He¡¯ll be there to protect me, won¡¯t he? she reasoned.
She faced Judas and Meristal and waited for the two to join her.
Chapter 19: The Corridor of Cruelty
Julie slung her pack over her shoulder as Judas took the last few steps and joined her. She sensed him inspecting her and the turmoil of feelings beneath.
¡°It¡¯s time,¡± he advised.
Julie waved her goodbyes to Meristal Raviils, but the woman had a solemn expression, almost sad. Her first impulse was to ask why Meristal seemed despondent, but she hastily decided against it. Whatever transpired behind the closed door wasn¡¯t her business despite how badly she wanted to know. She turned her gaze towards her master. Judas, by contrast, didn¡¯t seem emotional at all, or bothered by their departure.
¡°Thank you,¡± Julie called back to Meristal. She hoped she understood that it had just as much to do with her healing as with their talk.
The other woman nodded and smiled, but she didn¡¯t call to Julie. ¡°Judas ¡¡± Meristal paused on the porch. ¡°You better teach her more than a few spells if she¡¯s going to survive.¡±
Judas nodded his understanding. ¡°See you when the war begins.¡±
Meristal bade them farewell again and winked out of existence.
The warlock promised her before she packed her things that they would be traveling by teleport. While not her first experience with teleporting, she vowed to pay more attention than last time. In her prior trip, she had been too shocked by the sudden disappearance and reappearance of surroundings and the immediacy of change; this would be Julie¡¯s first experience with teleportation and the slight ability to perceive the essence within her. She hoped to gain some understanding that would help further her potential. Excitement riddled her body, and she trembled, not with fear but anticipation.
¡°Clear your mind. Don¡¯t let it wander or you¡¯ll be ripped away from me, and then I¡¯ll have to go looking for you. Keep your eyes open, and watch everything as it unfolds,¡± Judas instructed.
¡°Okay,¡± she answered shakily.
¡°Right. Here we go, Julie.¡±
For a brief moment, nothing seemed to happen. Then, the view around her rippled, like a stone thrown into a smooth lake. The ripples turned into a light mist, fog-like. Everything glowed with a blue hue and engulfed them. The temperature seemed to drop, a cool atmosphere, like stepping out of the sun and into the shade, despite Julie being able to see her breath. The location remained. Then, he put his right hand on Julie¡¯s shoulder and spoke.
¡°Take one step forward,¡± he instructed softly.
She obliged and sensed Judas stepping right behind her, his hand still on her shoulder. The ambiance changed, elongated, stretched. The effects persisted, but the environs rippled and blurred out of existence and swirled. She experienced the peculiar sensation they were traveling faster than possible¡ªperhaps thousands of miles per hour. But when she looked down at her feet, they weren¡¯t moving. Glancing back up, in the far distance, she could see their destination, frozen like a picture and rapidly swelling.
As abruptly as the effects started, the swirling stopped. The blue faded as normal colors began to appear. Julie realized they had indeed traveled far, quite possibly to the other side of the realm. She scanned her surroundings, taking in the change in scenery.
Up ahead were two tall cliff faces on each side of a strip of land that could not have been more than a mile wide. The cliff faces touched briefly at the entrance only, forming an archway. Julie tried to peer past to see what lay beyond, but the deep obscurity made it impossible. Whether the effect was created by the rising sun to the north or by magical properties, she couldn¡¯t tell.
Behind her lay the small village of Cape Gythmel. Men worked farm fields on the outskirts of the town, and women were bustling about bringing water to the men, hanging laundry, or baking. Little houses, cottages, and huts with smoking chimneys sprinkled the vibrant green meadow land, and the fields were filled with rich, brown dirt. Julie couldn¡¯t be sure, but from this distance, the roofs appeared thatched. Most were the same boring off-white color as the next house. She noted there were no fences to mark off who owned what property. Everyone appeared to get along and discern where the boundaries were.
¡°That was amazing! How long did the journey take?¡± she inquired.
¡°About five seconds.¡±
¡°And how far did we travel?¡±
¡°Just a few kilometers. I know it seems lazy, but our presence went relatively undetected in Gythmel, and I want to keep our visit that way. Yes, we were seen, but no one was the wiser. If we strolled through town, I may or may not be recognized, and I want to keep Ralloc guessing,¡± Judas explained. ¡°That opening is the Corridor of Cruelty, and our destination lays on the other side.¡±
¡°That thing?¡± Julie inquired, open-mouthed, pointing.
¡°Yes, my dear.¡± Judas started in the direction she pointed.
Julie adjusted her bag on her back and hurried to catch up. ¡°So, Cape Gythmel? Not much there.¡±
¡°Very true. It¡¯s the last outpost and the first defense of war. Since there¡¯s no more war, it became a settlement for retired soldiers and scabs.¡±
Looks rather pathetic for the first line of defense.
¡°Scabs?¡±
¡°Conscripted men for the Grand Royal Army, nothing short of indentured servitude.¡±
¡°That place is the first defense? It won¡¯t stop much.¡± Julie glanced back at the settlement. ¡°Anyone else there besides old veterans?¡±
¡°Wizards, why do you ask?¡±
¡°Just curious, because Troll City isn¡¯t for trolls, so ¡¡±
¡°You remembered?¡± A bright smile came to his face. He seemed pleased with himself, then switched the subject. ¡°Are you nervous?¡±
¡°A little, yeah.¡±
¡°Well, once inside, you¡¯ll be more than a little nervous. In fact, you might be downright horrified.¡±
¡°What¡¯s in there?¡±
Judas grew silent for a moment before he spoke. He seemed deeply focused. ¡°Anything that would tax your mind, body, and soul; remember, it¡¯s all in your mind. You can control your mind, but you must learn how to do so.¡±
Julie considered his answer. ¡°Is there anything in there that I can¡¯t defeat?¡±
¡°You mean anything that would destroy you?¡± Judas asked, glancing at her. ¡°No, it can¡¯t destroy your body; but if you let the Corridor get in here¡¡± he said, tapping his temple. He grimaced. ¡°You¡¯ll shatter like glass. Magic is in the power of the mind. Though crafted with the incantations you use, if your mind isn¡¯t whole, there¡¯s no help for you. Some theorize the mind is where magic comes from.¡± He shook his head. ¡°Be strong and you¡¯ll do fine. The Corridor reacts to the wielder. You¡¯re in the infancy of your learning, and it¡¯ll respond accordingly.¡±
His answers were vague, like all the answers she had received. She couldn¡¯t shake the impression that he kept something from her. It could¡¯ve been trivial in nature, but to her, it felt important, profound. As they walked in silence, she pondered on his oblique answers, never fully addressing her questions. She scrutinized him plodding along and vowed to keep her guard up. She dissected his words, and was wary of his omissions. He didn¡¯t foster trust, and the seeds of resentment took root.
What¡¯s so difficult about getting a straight answer? Why is everything so ambiguous?
Meristal had been upfront with her, told her of Judas¡¯s set ways, which conversations to avoid, and the gist of his personality. Julie detected the latter herself. Julie had no qualms talking with Meristal about the things that bothered her, such as the magelust and the fact that Judas kept his secrets and information close to the chest. The older woman also identified a harsh reality: a wedge would divide them if Judas refused to talk to her. She was right; the rift had already started. A rupture forged between the master and apprentice, and it continued to grow. Julie was almost certain that he remained unaware of the schism.
Can an apprentice leave their master? How would I even do such a thing? I wonder if Meristal would be willing to teach me.
¡°I¡¯m still worried,¡± she admitted aloud, apprehensive.
¡°And you should be. Not many people venture through here, not normal folks. Only the most powerful go through. Most people that live in the domains south of Ralloc never see the capital. Not unless they want to take the long way through Eastern City and take a ship to the Golden City.¡±
¡°There¡¯s another way?¡± Her interest piqued at the thought of not going through the Corridor of Cruelty.
¡°Yes,¡± he smiled at her. ¡°If you want to take a month getting to where you¡¯re going, and that¡¯s just one way. Now, what about coming back? It¡¯s expensive and treacherous. You travel the south edge of the Vikal Mountains, following it east until you reach the Golden City. By boat, you travel south until you reach the northern tip of the Infernal Wilderness, and then you travel dead west until you reach the Unicorn Valley. That journey is hard enough, but with me, we¡¯ll go through the Corridor. The trip will aid your training, dear. You have much to master in only a short time; you¡¯re much older than anyone else when they discover their abilities. Going through will help mold your mind into iron-hard armor. With that to aid you, everything else will come easy.¡±
In theory, he means. In silence, the maw loomed larger.
¡°So, Madam Raviils taught you something? What did she teach you?¡± Judas sounded neither amused nor displeased with the fact.
¡°Yeah, she uh ¡ showed me the lighting charm. She said it would come in handy,¡± Julie explained uneasily.
¡°She¡¯s right, of course, but you¡¯ll need a lot more than a light trick.¡±
¡°Well, what else is there to know?¡±
He barked a short laugh. ¡°More than what even a hundred years¡¯ worth of studying will get you. Trust me, I know! Theory aside, there¡¯s a species inside that looks like a flying furry rodent. The true name of the creature is Rafelene. They¡¯d be nothing more than a harassment save one thing: they produce a super high-pitch frequency that will shatter your eardrums and cause you to go deaf. If they continue their scream, they¡¯ll kill you.¡±
¡°How long before you go deaf?¡± Julie asked, frightened.
¡°A matter of seconds, depending on whether it¡¯s an adult or juvenile, but I¡¯ll teach you the incantation to stop the scream, or to make whatever is causing the noise to stop. The spell is useful for other things. Let¡¯s say you are walking on rocks and want to be quieter. You could use the ability on your feet. Assassins have been known to use such conjury.¡±
The master supplied his student with the incantation and Julie repeated it in her head, saying the words and articulating correctly. She smiled at the possibility of being able to sneak around using a charm on her feet, feeling the glee of childish pranks race through her. Perhaps with this new conjuring, she could go through without being detected.
The warlock instructed in measured tones. Julie listened eagerly at each incantation and a brief description. The first major spell he covered was the mage-shield which responded to her call with ease, far easier than influencing the candle, which she found odd. While she could call the shield almost at will, the protective barrier lacked strength, and her stamina waned.
He explained. ¡°Mage shields are powerful and call upon your essence, depleting your reserves. With time, your endurance will strengthen, and if the need arises, you can hold the shield about you while you cast.¡±
The opening grew darker the closer they ventured. A shiver ran down her spine. Judas instructed her on the incantations for levitation, but the ability was beyond her. She tried lifting rocks along the way, but they refused to wobble. She ground her teeth in frustration and returned to calling on her mage-shield. Each time she did, a spark of satisfaction kindled. Once she called her mage shield half a dozen times, she induced the quiet spell on her feet with mild success. The sound muffled, a shade quieter, but she could still hear each footfall. She practiced the few spells she could muster in her head, running them together in combination. Mageshield, blind with light, silent footfalls. She hoped they¡¯d be good enough for now.
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The temperature plummeted as they passed from sunlight into shadow, the looming archway dark, and foreboding. ¡°Here we go!¡± Judas warned a little too excitedly, sending Julie¡¯s nerves skittishly aflutter.
¡°The most important advice I can give you is to believe what your soul tells you about this place, not your eyes. Remember: this place is all about the power of your mind and your ability to see through the perceived realities and lies.¡±
They took a few more steps, and Julie knew that she was inside the Corridor. A transparent wall of humidity washed over her. Every move she made weighed her down as if tired, sluggish, lethargic. She commanded her body to move against her rebellious desires. A wave of sleepiness crashed over her body; her eyes drooped sharply, but she fought to remain conscious. A creeping sensation of being observed pressed upon her¡ªa thousand eyes gazing upon her every move. The eyes watched and waited.
Heat rippled off her hands, running up her arms, but when she rolled up her sleeves, the heat escaped and chilled her, a hellish medium between rising and falling fever. Her eyes were dry and itched which caused them to water copiously, akin to allergies. Her nostrils dried out and sharp pains lanced through her every time she rubbed her nose, threatening to bleed. Joints stiffened as if full of water, making her movements quiescent and weighted.
An itch clung to the insides of her skin. She willed herself not to scratch at the phantom pain. Her gums felt raw, like she was rubbing them together behind her back teeth.
When they entered, the sounds, what few they were, became muted. An unseen entity pressed upon her head, like the clogging of water flooding her ears. Her balance, slightly off by the sensation, kept her from moving at full speed.
Torture: that¡¯s what this place was, pure torture. She hadn¡¯t been here long, or had she? She swore she just entered, but the more she pondered the possibility, the farther away it seemed. Time stilled, or perhaps ran backward.
Is such a thing even possible? I guess anything could be possible in the world of Ermaeyth.
Julie made a note to ask Judas later.
Noise stirred behind her like someone trampling twigs. A whimper escaped her mouth, startled, and her head snapped in that direction. With eyes peeled, she searched for the origin, the thing that skittered and lurked in the shadows. Her heart hammered unhindered in her chest.
¡°Easy, dear, there¡¯s nothing to be afraid of.¡± His voice soothed her, calming her anxiety. He cut a striking image, one she graciously latched on to, remembering she wasn¡¯t alone in this cruel place. His sympathetic eyes and fatherly demeanor made her feel a rush of warm affection for him, his voice chasing away the weariness. She almost forgot about his secrecy and the lack of transparency between them. Judas was her rock, more so in this hellish place than ever before. Since setting foot in the Corridor, a tapestry of anguish slowly suffused her until he spoke. He saved her from proverbial drowning, and she was grateful.
She noticed her senses heightened the faster her heart beat, which only compounded the problem. ¡°What is it?¡± Julie probed, unable to hide the terror in her voice.
¡°Whatever you want it to be, or whatever you don¡¯t,¡± Judas answered with a riddle.
Reluctant, she followed in his wake as he ventured further in, her footsteps tepid in his shadow. He stopped suddenly and Julie, who paid attention to her unsure footfalls, ran into his back. Perturbed, she walked around her frozen mentor.
Why am I troubled? Is it me or this place?
She saw why he stopped. Before them, a small makeshift sign obviously built in haste, or at least, appeared to be, halted their progression. Made from old wood and weathered by time, the placard blocked their passage, the engraved letters were burned into the splintered and fraying wood. It read: Three paths ahead; one will be your last, another will surpass, the only one left is right in front of you.
The riddle riled Julie; an irritation stirred, simmering, rising before giving way to despair. ¡°I feel ¡¡± she began, but she couldn¡¯t bring it to words. The longer she stared at the sign, the more the agitation boiled. The pressing weight returned in full. Her knees quivered with exhaustion.
How long have we been in here? I shouldn¡¯t be this tired, but I am.
¡°It¡¯s the Corridor that does it and not you. This place will always have you believe the fault is in you,¡± Judas intoned, his voice warm. Every time he spoke, his soothing timbers brought her back from the brink, a lifeline reeling her back from the manifestations of cruelty. ¡°Try not to focus on your feelings. Look past them. If you let your emotions control you, you¡¯ll be destroyed by them rather than guided by a sound mind. Emotions are very powerful, and if you use them to embolden your magic, they¡¯ll hastily deplete your stamina, leaving you vulnerable. Try to concentrate, my dear.¡±
She listened to his words, watching him. As he spoke, he made eye contact with her, but now that he finished, his head moved, his eyes roaming behind Julie and into the dark, gloomy scenic tapestry around them. She almost passed it off as idle curiosity due to the leisure pace his eyes roved, but she realized the truth. He watched, searching for signs of stirring. His gaze returned to her; his eyes danced over her face, noting things she couldn¡¯t see.
¡°Who around here likes to speak in rhymes?¡± Julie complained, perplexed. She waged an internal war, mustering control of her sentiments.
¡°No one. It¡¯s part of the Corridor, confusing and antagonizing. The land reads your mind and forms its tasks to be counter-productive, making you exceed your comfort zones. What do you think?¡± Judas solicited, pointing at the sign.
¡°I think we¡¯re screwed!¡± Julie read the caveat again for any hint into its mysteries. ¡°Yep, subtly saying: we¡¯re screwed.¡± She almost laughed then, a rush of manic lunacy greeting her warmly like an old friend, not a bark-laughter of happiness. The rising pressure of madness buckled her mind. A buzz grew behind her eyes, filling her ears, a building strain making decisive thinking a futile gesture. For a brief moment,she forgot ¡ and then she regained the evading, slippery thoughts.
¡°Well, why don¡¯t you chose one?¡± Judas offered.
¡°Me! What? Are you crazy?¡± Julie said in distress. She ground her teeth, the itching of her gums relieved by the pressure. ¡°I hate it here!¡±
Judas regarded her closely. His face said what his words didn¡¯t, that the Corridor¡¯s powers gnawed at her sanity, and he didn¡¯t know how much more she could take.
¡°Hate means nothing here, and it won¡¯t help you. I remember when I first entered the Corridor¡ª¡±
¡°Please,¡± Julie snapped, cutting him off. ¡°I don¡¯t care about when you came through. How does that help me now?¡± She groaned aloud, a guttural noise in her throat. ¡°I¡¯m so agitated!¡±
¡°One can often learn from the mistakes of the past,¡± Judas remarked, his voice gentle. ¡°The task is at hand. Even if you were to go out the way you came, you¡¯d still face an obstacle. Doing nothing goes nowhere, do something and be somewhere.¡±
Julie debated making a snide remark at the old man¡¯s cryptic message, but she deemed a long debate would ensue, and she didn¡¯t want that at this point. She focused, reading the words over and over until they tumbled in her mind, filling her, drowning out the buzzing sensation.
Three paths ahead; one will be your last, another will surpass, the only one left is right in front of you. The only one left. Right in front of you. Does that mean the middle or the only path is to the left? Or does it mean the right path will lead me to the front?
¡°Clear your mind,¡± Judas cautioned.
Her wand fumbled in her grip, nearly dropping it, the sweat building in her palms. She tried to imagine the flickering candle in her room, remembering how she called upon her essence. Reaching for her essence educated her. Patience wasn¡¯t her strong suit but determination was. She called on her essence now, certain that it¡¯d help her, show her the correct way. Closing her eyes, she pushed out from herself, searching for the answer. A quiet settling came over her, and she turned her head in that direction. Her eyes opened and a second vision danced over her sight, a magesight swirled in the foreground, and a fog brighter than their surroundings settled over the trail to the left. The vision retreated like it had never come. ¡°We go to the left,¡± she said, assertive.
¡°Very well, you may lead, my dear.¡±
¡°Me? Why me? Why do I have to?¡±
¡°How will you grasp anything if you never have situations to handle?¡± Judas asked. ¡°I can only guide you; I can¡¯t do it for you.¡±
¡°What if I die?¡± Julie simpered in distress. The agitation returned, the oppressive, manipulating force. Her ire flared like an exposed nerve to incessant irritation. How can he do this to me? ¡°What if you die?¡±
¡°Nothing will happen to you while I¡¯m here. Don¡¯t worry, child.¡±
Julie walked past him, muttering under her breath. The anger swelled with each step, her legs snapping out, her heel striking hard against the ground more out of spite than the uncertainty of what lay beyond.
¡°Hope you die,¡± she whispered darkly to herself, but regretted the words the moment they left her mouth.
I hate this fucking place!
But Judas knew that already, and it bothered her. Julie didn¡¯t want to seem like a bellyacher, but this hardly seemed the best place for him to bring her, especially since she was still a novice and not deserving of such a lowly title.
Blowing a stray hair out of her face, she took the rut to the left. The route twisted its way up the side of the cliff, narrow and rocky. The climb was short and taxed her more than she thought it would. A boulder blocked her way. Julie almost asked Judas to help, but she knew he wouldn¡¯t. It was her task, all ¡®part of her training.¡¯
First, she tried pushing the large rock out of the way, but the heavy stone failed to tremble under her strained effort. Next, she tried summoning magic, but it failed to heed her call. Finally, to skirt past the obstruction, she precariously inched by on the lip of the path. Her heels dangled off the cliff, her toes had mere inches to find purchase. Her hands latched on the stone and a quick look over her shoulder was a mistake as she became well aware of the hundred foot plunge to the ground below.
Once passed, the incline leveled off, and a small area enclosed by a wall of rock encompassed the plateau. She spied a trail leading down the other side and walked towards it when a movement caught her eye. A pair of large eyes floated towards her, belonging to a creature Julie had never encountered before. What little she did know didn¡¯t match the monster before her, and there was no way to mistake it for a gorrillian or saricrocian.
The enormous beast was a hybrid between several different species with the head of a snake. Long cattle horns protruded out of the sides. The body of a lion and the tail of a scorpion completed the beast. The hideous head extended high above her. The quadruped stood foot to shoulder over two meters, the head an easy meter higher if not more.
Julie lost her voice and nearly stumbled as she backed away. She turned to run, and the warlock was nowhere in sight. The apprentice searched, frantic, losing a few precious seconds she couldn¡¯t spare.
Run, was her first thought. Run; stay alive¡ªlive so you can hunt down that old man who abandoned you. Where is he?
Rage gushed forth at his betrayal, driving her weak legs, keeping her alive a few moments longer. The magic responded to her fury, alive, awake. A small hope sparked within her.
She heard the screeching roar of the beast behind her and did an about-face, wand held as steady as she could manage and cried out the first words that popped into her head. The moment she said the incantation, the words retreated to the deep recesses of her mind. She identified the incantation was something neither Judas nor Meristal taught her.
A splash of energy hit the creature¡¯s front left leg, washing it in blue light, and the monster slowed.
Now, there was a second chance to escape.
She turned and ran back down the passageway she ascended, the drumming beat of the creature¡¯s legs coming close behind her, a quick session of clack, clack, clack, clack. Her eyes latched onto the boulder as she descended the trail at full speed, the segment of trail impossible to navigate in haste. Pointing her wand, she shouted with all the strength she could muster, a flinging motion over her shoulder. Startled by how well the spell responded to her call, she stumbled as the boulder flew past her shoulder. The creature roared in pain, but where it hit, she did not know. She dared not look back.
Fatigue enveloped her the instant the cast flew. She crashed into the cliff face, her shoulder exploding with pain. Twisting, putting her back to the rock, her movements halting and unresponsive as her eyes snapped to the leviathan rearing up on hind legs.
Faster than she thought she could move, she dived to the right, down the trail. A shower of rock fragments peppered her body, exploding where her head had been. The stinger struck lightning-quick, almost too fast to perceive. The momentum of her dive allowed her to roll up on her feet. With a burst of speed, she made it to the bottom of the path, the ground leveling out.
Spying a hedge of boulders, she changed course and leapt as high as she could and¡ªfor the briefest of moments¡ªshe could have sworn she floated. The moment passed. She came down hard and rolled again, taking the shock off her feet and scrambled for the shelter of rocks. Hoping she hid sufficiently, she curled up behind them, keeping low.
Luck was on her side. Behind the boulders, the rocky ground dropped away into a depression about a meter lower than the ground where her adversary stood. She crouched and peered between V-shaped wedges in the rocks. Her body trembled with fear, breath coming in pants. Hot pins of sweat prickled her forehead, and several beads rushed down the sides of her face. Robes clung to her back, sticking from the sweat. Screeches curled the air as it searched for her. When it finally turned in her direction, it bounded toward her hiding place with incredible speed. The snake-like head reared to strike when Julie jabbed her wand up and yelled the spell Meristal had taught her.
The brightest light Julie had ever seen¡ªrivaling even the light emanating from Staell¡ªburst out of the wand¡¯s tip, eclipsing the muted sunlight. The brilliant light flashed like lightning against a backdrop of velvet night, momentarily blinding. She blinked her eyes several times; spots floated in her vision.
If I¡¯m blind, so is the creature, she assured herself.
She ran before the monster recovered, but she wasn¡¯t fast enough. Julie dove underneath the legs, her movement alacritous but the miscreation was quicker, striking her shoulder, a long fang piercing her flesh. She staggered first from the impact, and then because of the paralyzing venom that coursed through her veins.
She continued her course, staggering, halting. Her legs refused to respond. The hellion turned to face her. It swung its huge paw and hit her, sending her crashing to the ground with a bone-shattering crunch. Dust kicked up in the air, half-obscuring her. The ground rumbled beneath her body as the horrid animal neared its prey. An indelicate paw gripped her, claws entering her flesh, tearing her robes, rolling her over to her back. Terror gripped her as she gazed up at the horror closing in on her. Obscurity threatened the edges of her vision.
Not like this, she thought. Not betrayed and then killed by a beast¡ªnot after surviving a murder attempt.
Shadows seduced her. The tail raised higher and higher. Like when she leaped over the rocks, time seemed to stand still once again. The tail twitched, moving, plunging downward. She knew the tail struck at incredible speed, but to her, it crept by. The tail hit her chest as the darkness closed in. She didn¡¯t know which one killed her first: the bite, the darkness, or the stinger.
Chapter 20: Gryzlaud Palace
¡°The hour and day grow near, and soon I¡¯ll be one again,¡± Xilor¡¯s oily voice slithered out, almost tangible. Sidjuous suffered the crawling sensation twisting smoothly down his flesh. ¡°Not even all the wizards of the Ermaeyth will be able to contend with my hate once I¡¯m released.¡±
Sidjuous bowed low and rolled his eyes when his master couldn¡¯t see. He had listened to this all before, yet he still hadn¡¯t seen any action. Sometimes, he didn¡¯t know why he bothered to follow Xilor anymore. He was gone, and only the promise of his return kept him and others in his thrall.
¡°Yes, Master. Only you will be able to restore Ermaeyth to its true integrity.¡±
He would certainly accept the rule of his fallen lord; but as the circumstances fell, his master hadn¡¯t returned fully¡ªand Sidjuous believed they stood little chance without him. Krurik, though powerful in his own way, lacked the vision of his master, relying heavily on subterfuge whereas Xilor trusted his overwhelming strength. Sidjuous believed in his master¡¯s cause and lived it wholeheartedly. In many ways, Xilor¡¯s grand vision was akin to the Krey of the Grand Royal Army. The dark lord wanted to cull the weakness out of civilization, but as to why, Sid only guessed. Those reasons he kept closely guarded. Often, Sidjuous perceived he was a dupe, a handy pawn in his master¡¯s schemes rather a true apprentice and possible heir to his mantle. Occasionally, Sidjuous became bold and needed to be reminded of his place.
¡°I¡¯ve grown powerful in knowledge, more powerful than any wizard could fathom while in this hell,¡± he intoned. His eyes rolled around the edges of the mirror¡¯s frame to make his meaning clear. ¡°But it has been useful.¡±
¡°What do you mean, Master?¡±
¡°I discovered the ability to enter and control the mind of another being. This imprisonment isn¡¯t without its benefits and drawbacks. Had I not been caged, I would¡¯ve never slowed to learn such ingenuity.¡±
Sidjuous shuddered, a cold tingling dripping down his spine, settling in his stomach. If he possessed the ability as he claimed, what kept him from entering Sidjuous¡¯s mind and controlling him? The thought of Xilor¡¯s idle boasting crossed his mind. Did he think inflicting fear would keep his servants from abandoning him? Other than Krurik, Sidjuous was the only one that remained in his presence. Perhaps the threat was meant for him?
¡°Then, my lord, why not enter the body of a creature or wizard and come back to us?¡± Sidjuous challenged.
¡°Fool, I can¡¯t stay there indefinitely. Anyone that I take a hold of will die. No one¡ªonly my body¡ªcan hold such power.¡±
¡°How do you know your body can withstand it?¡± Sidjuous asked, egging on the confrontation.
¡°Would you like me to demonstrate my capabilities to you, neophyte?¡± the voice whispered. An implied threat slithered over Sidjuous. Rising panic flushed through his body, an automatic response from years of servitude, a natural reaction. He had to distinguish fact from a veiled threat.
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Sidjuous bowed low, a hidden smirk on his face. ¡°An excellent idea, Master, I¡¯d be honored for you to demonstrate your abilities.¡±
Sid¡¯s hands reached for his throat instantly. His lungs seized, he couldn¡¯t breathe, denied precious air. Black spots peppered his vision along with plumes of colors, red, gold, and green. He fell to his knees with a hard, soundless thud. The only sound he heard was the drumming, the deep pounding of his own heart as it hammered his rib cage and throbbed in his ears. His lungs blazed as if he swallowed fiery coals.
The hold released from his windpipe, and he gasped. Sweet oxygen rushed through his mouth and into his simmering lungs, making him gag. ¡°Master, I ¡ know th¡ªthat you ¡ can ¡ do that,¡± he croaked between coughs.
¡°That wasn¡¯t a demonstration but a reminder. You¡¯re not beyond my reach. Don¡¯t ever mock me again.¡±
¡°Yes, Master.¡± The apprentice remained on his knees, subservient, and regarded the mirror with his head bowed, hiding the hate in his eyes.
¡°This is my demonstration,¡± the mirror whispered.
Sidjuous¡¯ mind exploded with pain and light, blinding, like lightning shot out of his frontal lobe, light from the suns poured out of his eyes, blinding him forever. A hand instinctively reached for his face to press against the anguish flooding through him. With a jarring impact, his hand keeping him from toppling completely to the stone floor. Distress lanced through the bones in his arm, his forearm snapping, a mild annoyance in comparison to his mind.
Another fresh wave washed over him, smothering him and he toppled. A scream ripped from his throat, but he didn¡¯t hear it as he writhed on the floor. His head threatened to cave, rip inside out, slowly from his eye socket to the back of the skull and down his spine. When the light grew so bright and hot that he became oblivious to all else, a suffocating darkness enclosed him, a chilling pressure compressing from all points. The constricting cold tightened, his skull, mind, and body closing in on itself, crushing him to death. His left ear sloped down the side of his face, becoming one with his jaw while his body snapped in a thousand places, crumbling in on itself.
And then, the pain was gone as if it never happened. He blinked in the sudden brightness of the candle-lit room. Unable to believe, shaking hands ran down his body finding him whole, unblemished. Amazement and relief riddled him when he found that his arm whole. He could have sworn it had broken during the moments of agony.
At some point in Xilor¡¯s demonstration, Sidjuous had lost control of his bowels, and he laid in a puddle of his secretions and vomit. He blinked a few moments before struggling to rise, his energy sapped. His throat was hot and angry, raw from overuse as if he had been screaming through the totality of the demonstration. Staggering up to his knees, he rested on his heels, his head spinning.
¡°That¡¯s why I can¡¯t take over someone else¡¯s body. They can¡¯t contain my power,¡± Xilor whispered. ¡°That was just a brief touch of my essence to yours. Had I stayed longer than a few heartbeats, you¡¯d be driven mad with the agony.¡± The eyes narrowed, scrutinizing him. ¡°Call for Derms to clean up your mess. Remove yourself from my presence and make yourself presentable.¡±
Shaken to the core, cowed by the display of power, Sidjuous meekly left the chambers, having tasted Xilor¡¯s displeasure. The Dark Lord¡¯s impatience was palpable, and if he didn¡¯t want to feel his wrath again, he¡¯d need to make better use of himself. Daring himself to toe a line, Xilor had punished him for his insolence. Sid vowed to find a way back into his graces.
The trolls were late in returning with Xilor¡¯s body, which meant the trolls he dispatched to the City of Despair had failed. He¡¯d have to do it himself, needed to do it himself. Only success would assure his continued existence once his master returned, and he vowed to make sure that happened.
Chapter 21: Meristal
¡°This had better be important!¡± Sedrus came with his usual bad attitude, stopping just shy of the Lakayre Manor¡¯s front porch.
¡°Well, of course, it is,¡± Meristal rebuked sharply. ¡°Do you think I¡¯d just call you to waste your time and mine? No! I¡¯d rather spend my time doing other things than putting up with you.¡±
¡°Your tongue¡¯s sharp this morning, Madam Raviils,¡± Sedrus glowered.
¡°It speaks the truth. Maybe Judas will put up with your insolence, but I won¡¯t. Now, close your mouth before I do it for you.¡±
¡°Why are we meeting at the warlock¡¯s house?¡±
¡°Do you know of any place in Ralloc where we can all meet without being overheard?¡± she countered. The centaur bit back a retort, and Meristal turned her eyes to the others gathered. ¡°Now then, we can get to business. As some of you may be aware, Judas and his pupil are on the run. The Kothlere Council tried to track them down and failed so far. He¡¯ll remain out of contact until the war starts. And the attack on Dlad City? The vampires are responsible, rousing from their shadows, and as Staell told us, the sheol are stirring. Apparently, there have been more sightings of them outside of their Ruins, and the council¡¯s keeping it quiet. Is that not so?¡± she asked, directing her question at Sedrus.
He nodded.
¡°When will Judas return?¡± Mella, the elyfian, questioned.
¡°I suspect he¡¯ll be returning shortly, especially if this war escalates as quickly as he suspects. Before he left, Judas shared his thoughts with me. He said that the first few attacks of the war will be small skirmishes, but the real war won¡¯t start until they breach the Corridor and into the Ralloc domain. That is, of course, if you don¡¯t count Dlad City.¡±
¡°What strategic value is in small skirmishes?¡± Mella quired, bewildered. A newcomer stood beside her, a fellow elyf, and everyone recognized him. Prior to today, he¡¯d never been a part of their gathering before. He was the Supreme War Commander of the elyfian Enclave in the Vikal Mountains and hailed a hero and veteran of the first war.
¡°I don¡¯t question Judas¡¯s judgment or Xilor¡¯s logic. But I¡¯d speculate the dark lord¡¯s absence will make some of his followers leery of going to war, and these skirmishes will be a way for him to establish who¡¯s still loyal.¡±
¡°Do you believe it¡¯ll come to a Second Wizard¡¯s War?¡± Sedrus posed, skeptical.
¡°Yes. I do.¡±
¡°What do you need from us to help him, Madam Raviils?¡± Zmora urged.
¡°The time will come soon; we need to know who will be ready to stand and fight, and against whom. Staell hinted the unicorns retreated to their valley beyond Wizard¡¯s Pass. Judging by his absence here and his ominous words, they¡¯ll only come to our aid when Judas is vindicated.¡±
¡°The elyves don¡¯t get involved, but we¡¯ll take the vampires of Shadow City should they arise again,¡± Supreme War Commander Yullus pledged the elyves allegiance. ¡°Years do not forget a needed revenge for the spilled blood of the innocents of the first war. We¡¯ll march when you give us the signal, Madam Raviils.¡±
¡°Here, here,¡± cheered Atz and Lurx, the dwaven, in unison.
¡°Should any dragons come into the scene, we fairies will try what we can,¡± Zmora pledged. ¡°It may not be enough. Our Head of Creatures must be informed that we¡¯re entering the war.¡±
¡°And we centaurs won¡¯t give into this war either!¡± Sedrus nagged defiantly. ¡°That comes from the Mother Centaur.¡±
¡°That figures!¡± Meristal reproved coldly. ¡°You centaurs never were too brave, were you?¡±
Sedrus reared up before coming down hard, stamping his hooves. He glowered down at the beautiful wizard. ¡°What¡¯s that supposed to mean, Witchen?¡±
¡°It¡¯s quite clear what I meant!¡± Meristal retorted, holding his gaze. His audacity to call her names was a short-lived bravery punctuated by Judas¡¯s absence. Sedrus insulted her, calling her an evil magical user, like calling Judas a sorcerer. ¡°You and your kind stick to yourselves when everyone else needs your aid, but the moment trouble finds you, you squeal and scream for us to help. Your pacifist act is getting a little old, don¡¯t you think? The centaurs hadn¡¯t left your forest for battle or war since the dwaven and centaurs conflict.¡±
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¡°You and everyone else like you are cowards,¡± Scodd Yullus grunted, his brontide voice breaking the mounting tension between the centaur and Meristal.
Sedrus glared at him for a moment but otherwise cowered to the sudden confrontation. He swung his attention back to Meristal. ¡°I¡¯m done. Do you hear me? I¡¯m out. I¡¯ll keep your secrets because I know the warlock will come after me if I don¡¯t, but don¡¯t expect anything else from me.¡±
The centaur turned his back and galloped off in the direction of Ralloc.
Meristal screamed after him. ¡°Know this, when we¡¯re all gone, no one will come to your aid when Xilor decides you¡¯re his next victim!¡±
¡°Let him go,¡± Yullus advised. ¡°We¡¯re acquainted with their position. The past repeats itself. Let him go; we don¡¯t need him.¡±
¡°I didn¡¯t realize the elyves carried such a hate for the vampires.¡± Zmora mused. ¡°I thought revenge was beneath you.¡±
¡°The clan may not be out for revenge, but I am. And there¡¯ll be much blood spilled before I¡¯m satisfied.¡±
¡°Right,¡± Meristal grumbled as she turned to face the others. ¡°If we stand and fight together, we¡¯ll be stronger and last longer than individually.¡±
¡°Agreed,¡± Scodd concurred. ¡°However, it¡¯s imperative that we take the vampires ourselves.¡±
Meristal nodded. ¡°I hope we can count on you to join us in what will probably be the most crucial battle: the battle for the Corridor. If we lose there, we could lose the domain very easily.¡±
¡°We could bleed him there,¡± the War Commander advised. ¡°If Cape Gythmel is lost, we should exact a heavy toll. While I¡¯ve pledged allegiance when dealing with the vampires, it¡¯s up to the king to decide if we¡¯ll ride to war with you.¡± Scodd switched subjects. ¡°Where is the warlock, if you do not mind me asking?¡±
¡°Judas and his apprentice are inside the Corridor, or so I guess. He would¡¯ve made contact by now if they were out. I assume his apprentice is having difficulty finding her way across.¡± Meristal laid a map of the realm down on the porch for everyone to see. ¡°The elyves will march from their Enclave in the north of the Vikal Mountains, through Cross Roads in the southwest. From there they¡¯ll make a west-by-southwest approach to Shadow City. After you defeat the vampires, contact us. We may still be in the Cape, and you can march southeast and join your forces with the rest of us, or we might have you augment Dlad City as a backup. It¡¯ll be up to the War Council at that point.¡±
¡°What¡¯s Ralloc¡¯s plan?¡± Scodd inquired. ¡°Are they going to attempt to fortify Troll City?¡±
Meristal barked a laugh. ¡°There¡¯s no plan, not yet, at least. The council is still in denial about the whole thing. The first casualties and refuges will snap them out of apathy.¡±
¡°That doesn¡¯t bode well for the victims.¡±
¡°I agree, and I¡¯ll do what I can, but don¡¯t expect much until it happens.¡±
¡°What if Xilor beats us to Cape Gythmel?¡± Mella broke in, a thoughtful look on her face.
¡°Then, we¡¯ll have to fight harder to reclaim it,¡± Meristal addressed with a ring of authority. ¡°This is the plan: nobody moves until I give the signal; I¡¯ll join Judas in the Marcoalyn domain and hopefully spur him into action before Xilor attacks. With any luck, he will. If so, I¡¯ll get him to the Cape where he can help organize a defense. I¡¯ll contact you all through the Psimond method. Cape Gythmel isn¡¯t fortified to withstand a battle, so whoever gets there first needs to start assembling a defensive structure and evacuate everyone to Dlad City and then to Ralloc.¡± Meristal stood and looked at everyone. Feeling their resolve, she moved away from the group.
Everyone said their goodbyes and readied themselves to depart. This meeting would be the last time they¡¯d see each other for a while, and maybe even the last time ever for some. They all knew the risks of war; no one wanted it, but they¡¯d fight if the need arises. Meristal knew that when Xilor returned, the jyneruls of the War Council would finally raise an army to oppose him, but she was afraid this would be too late.
¡°We can¡¯t pledge allegiance to any side, as I¡¯m sure you can appreciate,¡± a voice whispered. Meristal looked up but didn¡¯t see anyone. She turned as a being materialized. Large white wings folded delicately behind her. Her face was angular, sharp, prominent cheekbones and a high ridged nose.
¡°Adoreria,¡± Meristal smiled. ¡°I should¡¯ve known.¡± The archangel dipped her head, touching the fingers of her right hand to her forehead. Meristal waved the gesture away. ¡°I don¡¯t warrant such a greeting.¡±
¡°Perhaps not officially.¡±
¡°Has anyone¡ª?¡±
¡°No,¡± the archangel interrupted. ¡°No one sent me. And as I stated, we can¡¯t take sides; it¡¯s forbidden. But that doesn¡¯t mean we¡¯ll let Xilor go unmolested. Difficulties and setbacks are bound to arise along the way.¡±
Meristal smiled and sat on the steps, inviting Adoreria to do the same. ¡°I believe we have some catching up to do.¡±
The archangel sat beside her, a smile spreading across her face. ¡°Indeed, we do.¡±
Chapter 22: The Corridor of Cruelty
The world spun, the first sensation she remembered. Her eyes fluttered open, and the blackness faded at the edges of her visions. Sounds, much like the rushing wind on a breezy autumn day, came and went. The humidity clung heavily, like a thick blanket in summer, making her sweat profusely. Drifting off seemed like the best thing to do at this point.
Too humid¡
She awoke again to light but couldn¡¯t distinguish the source; she embraced the inviting warmth. A sense of d¨¦j¨¤ vu settled over her. I¡¯m almost positive this has happened before ¡ maybe not the same way, but close enough.
¡°Wake up. Time to move on to your next task,¡± a voice instructed.
¡°I can¡¯t see,¡± she mumbled back, still sleepy.
A small chuckle coiled through the air. ¡°You can if you open your eyes.¡±
She opened them. Blurred images danced across her vision before coming into focus. Above her, a familiar face she once trusted and liked, but now despised, hovered over her. Bitterness and a shade of hate washed over her as she recalled her death. ¡°You left me! You left me to die!¡± she snapped, sitting up, coming fully awake.
¡°Yes and no,¡± Judas muttered. His voice was soft and inviting.
¡°What do you mean ¡¯yes and no¡¯? You left me, and I had to fend for myself against that ¡ that thing!¡±
¡°Yes, I left you, and yes, you had to fend for yourself, just as you say. But were you successful?¡±
¡°NO!¡± Julie yelled. ¡°And you know it!¡±
¡°Yes, and did you succeed the first time you ever called upon your essence? Did you bend the flame? Did you know how to do it the first time you tried?¡± He waited for a response, but she wouldn¡¯t give him the satisfaction. ¡°No, you didn¡¯t. At some point along the way, someone had to let go of you so you could learn for yourself. Right?¡±
¡°Yes,¡± she grudgingly replied. He had a point.
¡°The other reason I left you is because I had to. The Corridor works in different ways for everyone. My path lies in a different direction than yours. Do you remember when we were at the sign? My way was the middle one, but yours went off in a different direction. You must face everything alone. I cannot interfere. Well, let me put it another way: I shouldn¡¯t interfere. We can travel together, but there are times when I can¡¯t be with you, and you must understand that. I¡¯ll be with you in the mornings and possibly in the evenings.¡±
¡°You could¡¯ve warned me!¡± Julie said. Her irritation faded with his spoken truth, and she resented both.
¡°Why? Did anyone tell you they were letting go of you while you were swimming? Probably not. If they had, what would¡¯vehappened?¡±
¡°I¡¯d panic.¡±
¡°Correct!¡± he exclaimed, pointing at her for emphasis. ¡°There was no reason to make you panic, especially not on top of the panic you already faced when you encountered that D¡¯viquis.¡±
¡°Is that what the thing is called?¡± Julie exclaimed.
¡°Yes. One of the more dangerous creatures you can encounter, and the beast can only be found here. Do you have any questions?¡±
¡°Yeah. If I died, how come I¡¯m not dead?¡±
¡°You didn¡¯t die. Do you remember the spell I told you about, the Curse of Fear? It allows the person casting to influence a hallucination that it translates as real? You remember?¡± Julie nodded. ¡°The Cruelty works in the same way, but the damage inflicted isn¡¯t real. Every time you ¡®die,¡¯ you just fall asleep. Each time you wake, you¡¯ll face something new. Every day, you¡¯ll keep waking up to relive some horror.¡±
¡°Do I have to fight a D¡¯viquis again?¡±
¡°Maybe,¡± he confessed, and then thought briefly. ¡°Maybe not today. Whatever you face will be decided for you. I will admit, you did great. You survived longer than I expected,¡± Judas praised, before swiftly switching the subject. ¡°Remember what I said: this place will either make you stronger or drive you insane, and this is why these tests are placed before you, to strengthen your mind or shatter it.¡±
¡°Great. I don¡¯t know magic, and I¡¯m not a decent caster, yet I still have to go through tests. That¡¯s terrific!¡±
¡°I¡¯ll teach you more on the way,¡± Judas promised. ¡°Your aura doesn¡¯t match your knowledge; the tasks before you aren¡¯t as difficult as mine were, but I¡¯ll admit that I¡¯m hesitant to continue. I find it troubling that your first test was rather hard. Granted your potential ability to draw on magic is phenomenal, but I wonder about your control. For someone as substantial as you, I¡¯m surprised your control is lacking.¡±
I should be powerful. A sudden yearning ached within her at the thought.
They broke the make-shift camp and took off. Judas lead the way up the winding cliff-side trail. The long uphill trudge sapped their strength, lacking energy for idle conversation. Silence and an agonizing progression accompanied them constantly. The path twisted around and doubled back, and at times, Julie suspected they weren¡¯t making any progress. When her legs started to cramp, they stopped for a break.
Judas instructed her about little oddities of the realm, brief and unimportant histories to get her mind off what lay ahead. He also furthered her education by touching back on the levitation spell he supplied in Dlad City. By the time they were ready, the pebbles refused to move under her edict. The only influence she managed was by kicking them in frustration.
The footpath finally leveled off and wound back downhill. Julie sighed in relief, grateful for the change in the passageway; going down seemed easier than going up for her.
Probably because of my short legs.
The decline provided its own unique difficulties. Julie found it hard to slow herself when she picked up speed.
In the distance, birds chirped and wildlife teemed. The more she listened, the less the sounds seemed real and ambient. Something peculiar about the resonance, one she couldn¡¯t identify. The chirps seemed flat, and the crickets, muted and negligible. Even the wind sounded hollow. The sky above darkened noticeably; despite the arduous journey, they hadn¡¯t traveled all the day¡¯s light away. She didn¡¯t fret, but the omen set her on edge, the agitation flaring up like a spasming muscle. The silence during their downhill trek was only punctuated by their thundering breath and clattering rocks. Julie¡¯s lungs burned, and her knees and ankles ached from the impacts on the rocky slopes.
After many hours of traveling and several stops, Judas finally spoke. ¡°Congratulations, you learned one lesson for today, which is patience. Your second task lies ahead. You¡¯ll notice the sky has darkened as we have traveled further down the hillside. This won¡¯t be a test of skill but of wits. However, my destiny lies along another route. I¡¯ll greet you on the other side.¡±
Judas stopped walking just as abruptly as the day before, and Julie walked around. A sign stood in the middle of the trail, cobbled together in the same fashion as the last, weathered, tacked together, and hardly standing. A lantern hung from the post beneath, and the sign read:
This is to light as wet is to rain, do this to the sign and you can remain.
¡°Remain? What does that mean, Judas?¡± Julie queried, fretting.
¡°Remain in the Corridor. It¡¯ll spit you out, and you¡¯ll have to start over from the outside if you get this wrong,¡± Judas cautioned. ¡°Take your time.¡±
Julie pondered the riddle before her. She reread the first line. ¡°This is to light as wet is to rain.¡± Searching for deeper meaning, she puzzled the riddle, aware of the tension nettling her shoulders.
Water is wet, and so is rain, she mused, so light is heat, and heat is light; and those two come together in ¡?
¡°Fire!¡± she said aloud. She mentally kicked herself for taking so long. ¡°Fire is the answer. We light it on fire.¡±
Are you sure of your decision? a voice asked. Chills raced down her arms, realizing the voice was not hers or Judas¡¯s. Did the Corridor possess the capability to enter the mind?
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¡°Yes. Yes, I am,¡± she answered, as if the owner of the voice was there, in the flesh. The voice grew silent, a sense of waiting settled over her, but for what, she couldn¡¯t identify.
She read again. ¡°This is to fire as wet is to rain, do this to the sign and you can remain.¡±
Her eyes flickered to the lantern on the post, hanging by a nail. The soft light glowed feebly in the dim gloom closing around her. She realized how much of a fool she had been. The answer lay before her the entire time.
Sighing, she reached out with her essence. Fueled either by her growing command or her internal turmoil, the flame flickered and responded to her call with ease. With finite control, she pulled the flame out of the glassless lantern and directed the spark upward. The sign burst into brilliant flames, a luminous homing beacon in the deepening twilight.
¡°What now?¡± Julie inquired, the question directed at Judas. When he didn¡¯t answer, she looked behind her to find the area devoid of life.
He left you again, the voice assured her. Your next task awaits.
¡°I thought this was my test?¡± She realized that she was talking to herself. Hearing voices respond was the first portent of insanity, and she shook her head, chasing the voice away. The fact that she answered the voice didn¡¯t sit well with her, but she preferred the option to being alone, or ignoring an incessant voice. A comfort settled over her as the voice peddled its trivia. But did she want to hear the information? How truthful was the voice? Did the voice hold back like Judas?
How many tests do you have in a day? she wondered.
As many as necessary, the voice replied.
An eccentric feeling rippled through her. The voice came from within. She puzzled, hesitated, wondering if she gave life to her fears or if an outside force attempted¡ªand succeeded¡ªin breaking through. Was she under someone else¡¯s influence?
She doubted it came from some invisible entity, like some spirit or ghost keeping her company. This voice originated solely in her head, privy to her thoughts, and responded to them at will. No creature that she knew could read thoughts, but she didn¡¯t know everything about Ermaeyth. She didn¡¯t feel a presence other than the Corridor, which bothered her. Since entering, she felt eyes watching her, waiting, observing. The voice was different. The voice came without a presence. Did the voice exist at all?
Ermaeyth isn¡¯t the world where you once lived, child, the voice continued, almost sneering.
Julie rolled her eyes and waited.
Brace yourself. You¡¯re in for a real treat! the voice promised darkly, sounding gleeful. A hint of malice flickered beneath the sarcasm. The voice¡ªhad it not been so malicious¡ªcould have mistaken for her own sarcastic voice.
They¡¯re not what you think they are.
¡°What does that mean?¡± A rustle of wind drew her attention towards the air. Watchful eyes fell upon her, but she couldn¡¯t see anything amiss. The Corridor drew a deep breath and waited.
A large humanoid creature with grotesque features swooped down upon her, dive-bombing with blinding speed. She screamed and lunged out of the way. The tall creature landed where she once stood.
Animalistic form morphed into a man as elongated fangs retracted, pointed cheeks smoothed, deep eyes filled. No matter how much it tried to pass for normal, the close resemblance to the beast still prevailed. Nothing beautiful or graceful endured through either visage. She knew what stood before her: a vampire. Its eyes burned with hunger and its gaze pierced her, a succulent morsel to devour, but in what manner, she didn¡¯t want to guess. His sallow skin and haunted, gaunt face with dark bags under his eyes leered at her. His limbs were long and spindly with a paralyzing countenance, trapping her with his gaze.
Her heart fluttered in her chest, a vague recollection of what vampires were and supposed vulnerabilities came to mind. The image she once associated with vampires erased, blurred, faded. Her initial image, though disturbing, surrendered to the sickly and terrifying creature before her. The thought of becoming diseased from the sallow wight murmured its disquiet, her chest tightening. She wished the voice would speak, help her, but it waited with clutching breath to see what would transpire.
A wispy strain of honeyed hair unfurled, dropping between her eyes. The weight of the now-silent voice shifted, sliding down her chest to her stomach, seizing. The sound of smacking lips reached her ears, and she wet her own with a darting tongue. The voice wanted to watch her suffer, to squirm; perhaps in her misery, the voice would find solace.
Standing silent, eyes roving over her, he had yet to move. Still, cold, coarse, unyielding as stone. His burning eyes lanced her, looking past her robes, imagining her flesh beneath. She couldn¡¯t discern if his gaze meant there were sexual vulgarities he wished to explore, or the yearning to feast on her flesh.
Both would be bad, but which is worse?
His gaunt face with deep depressions between prominent cheekbones tightened, his eyes and the shadows around them darkening, as if trying to slip back into the animal beneath his current masquerade. Dark, slicked-back hair matched his dark eyes, both stark against his pale skin. He spat his words at her in near-visceral screeches. ¡°Another upstart waltzing through. Why should I grant you passage?¡± The man¡¯s voice coupled with a beast¡¯s groans and grunts, primitive, a coexistence of wizardkind and beast.
Goosebumps sent shivers down her arms and legs. ¡°I wish you no harm,¡± came Julie¡¯s soft reply.
His head rolled back with laughter, a deep and menacing sound, similar to a dog¡¯s warning when a stranger trespasses. ¡°Nice is charming ¡ and weak! Shall I stand aside simply because you smile?¡±
¡°No, but it¡¯s the right thing to do.¡±
His chuckle rose, a rumbling in his belly. ¡°Politeness goes a long way, so I¡¯ll let you pass.¡± He held up a finger, a condition. ¡°Let me taste of your flesh, my sweet.¡± He smiled, and his face transformed, the monster bursting forth. ¡°Let me devour your ripest meat!¡±
Jaws agape, drool fell from his mouth. Long, spindly fangs glistened, saliva stretching like a delicate web between the tips. She shuddered, lanced again by the intensity of his eyes.
¡°No. Please? Don¡¯t.¡± Fear crept into her voice, her eyes going wide. An involuntary step backward. The sudden change between man and beast rivaled the speed of a humming bird¡¯s beating wings. A quick glance over her shoulder told her what she already knew. She found no trace of her master.
¡°The more you shiver, the sweeter you¡¯ll be.¡± A long tongue lashed out against his teeth. ¡°I don¡¯t think you have a choice, do you?¡± the vampire taunted her, edging closer to his prey.
¡°No,¡± she tried to sound defiant, in control.
¡°That was weak. Surely you could do better? Make me believe.¡±
¡°I said no!¡± she said, her voice hardening, but it lacked the robust and ringing command of authority.
¡°Better,¡± he giggled, his voice high and child-like, and then dropped, ¡°but not good enough!¡± He danced closer, a sinister sparkling in his eyes. A smile split across his face, stretching unrealistically at the corners of his mouth, bearing more teeth, showcasing his ivories.
¡°No!¡± Julie barked, desperation pounding through her as the beast drew closer. The rising panic sparked an ember of anger within, but not enough to overwhelm her dread.
¡°Not too good, was it?¡± he sneered. His grin split wider, the slit of his mouth stretching up to the temples of his head. His jaw dropped awkwardly, and his mouth opened wide enough to swallow her head whole. The beast was almost upon her.
She cowered away but for a moment. Through her fear, anger blazed. Realizing what the vampire had been doing all along: intimidate her into submission. She vowed to fight it off. Judas told her once before that magic came from the power of the mind, and she had forgotten. By cowering in submission, she closed her mind off to the ability to call her essence and craft magic. Spine straight, she stood with renewed confidence. Wand extended towards his head; she summoned up her wrath, fear, and stubbornness to live. ¡°NO!¡± she screamed. A vast light poured out of her wand. The luminance so pure she turned to shield her eyes.
The radiance faded, revealing a vanquished foe. No trace of the vampire remained. Judas stood where the creature had been, his fingers interlaced with each other, a solemn look about his face.
¡°What happened?¡± he asked, almost in a whisper.
¡°I don¡¯t know. I was afraid, but my rage fueled my confidence. I remembered you saying the mind being the gateway to magic,¡± she said, her answer meek. ¡°Or something like that,¡± she added quickly and shrugged.
¡°And how did you find that confidence?¡±
¡°I thought ¡ of you!¡± she said, astonished by the revelation, her eyes betraying her inner confusion.
¡°What about me?¡± His face rippled with perplexity.
¡°I thought of what you told me. If I¡¯m scared and can¡¯t think, then I can¡¯t act. But my life was at stake, and so I acted as my life depended on it¡ªand it did.¡±
¡°Good! You did well. Just remember not to give into your emotions always. Sometimes, it¡¯ll help you stay alive, but other times the anger will consume you.¡± A smile broke on his face momentarily before he turned serious again. ¡°Can you tell me the meaning of the lesson? There are several.¡±
¡°Well, besides the power of the mind, I¡¯d have to say ¡ courage.¡± She spoke evenly, assured of her answer.
¡°Close.¡± He paced around her. A brief pang of crestfallen emotions entered her eyes, but either Judas ignored the look or failed to see it. ¡°This lesson taught you to stand up for yourself. Now, you understand the meaning. No one else can do it for you¡ªand even if they could, they couldn¡¯t do it as well as you. Do you understand?¡± his ever-soft voice inquired. He had a way of lecturing without seeming so. Julie hadn¡¯t appreciated how he managed it until now. The twinkle in his eye returned, one that she had spotted many times before.
¡°Yes, I understand.¡±
¡°That?s the biggest problem with society today,¡± he continued as if he had forgotten his internal musings were audible. ¡°If people would just do things for themselves and make a stand instead of expecting others to do it for them¡ª¡± He broke off and blinked at her. ¡°Sorry, I can get carried away sometimes.¡±
¡°That¡¯s alright; I don¡¯t mind you talking. Better than listening to voices in my head,¡± she chuckled.
A dark, concerned look flashed across his face before dismissing whatever thoughts he clutched. ¡°Good,¡± he said. ¡°Remember this: the Corridor is about the power and stability of the mind. It¡¯s up to you to decide when your mind is strong enough, and have the will to end the escapade. Now, let¡¯s travel a bit further, and then we can rest for the evening.¡±
She watched him turn on his heel, retreating down the mountainside. Julie noticed the look on his face when she mentioned voices, and again he refrained from saying anything.
What secret is he holding? What did I say that made him grow pensive and concerned? I¡¯m starting to hate this.
Chaffed by his lack of communication and praise, but grateful she escaped an admonishment, she reluctantly followed him.
Chapter 23: Judas
Night fell, soothing the humidity to a tolerable level. Huddled around the small, bright fire, Judas sat across from Julie. In the muted darkness, his back slouched against a fallen log, his knees high with feet planted firmly on the ground. He used his legs as a makeshift podium, a book laying against his legs. A bead of sweat trickled slowly down his left temple, unnoticed. Lost in his thoughts, the book lay forgotten.
Why¡¯s the Corridor presenting her with such rigors? She¡¯s but a novice. Is it basing itself on her power or somehow latching on to mine? It shouldn¡¯t, otherwise we¡¯d be tasked together.
He couldn¡¯t deny the troubling possibility. He¡¯d watch for more signs that the passageway couldn¡¯t distinguish between the two of them. If it became too difficult, he¡¯d step in and stop her progress. The thought chaffed him. Interfering may do more harm than good, but if the erratic behavior continued, he¡¯d be left with no choice. A dilemma he¡¯d never faced before.
Another troubled aspect was Julie¡¯s magical control. At times, she snatched her essence with ease, and in the next few moments, it evaded her like it never existed. Granted, she lacked the luxury of growing up in a magical world and learning as a child. What she grasped came in spurts.
She lacks control directing her aura. I need to find a way to unlock whatever¡¯s blocking her abilities.
He knew it couldn¡¯t only be the Corridor, but recognized it was part of the problem. Her troubles started at the beginning when she first attempted to harness her essence. It was only explanation he considered, at least, one he was willing to admit.
Another factor he failed to include, perhaps the fault didn¡¯t lie with her, but with him. Though a master many times over, this was the first time he failed to find a connection with someone new. The blame, theoretically, lay at his feet. He thought back to Meristal and how she seemingly taught her with ease, the lesson coming to Julie almost immediately. The staggering majority of magic wielding civilization derived from the Plotus branch of magic. Her inability might stem from her focal point: her wand. If she didn¡¯t make significant progress by the time they reached Wizard¡¯s Pass, he¡¯d reevaluate her and see if she was an Owlen mage destined to use an orb, or a Mussari user befitting a staff.
I don¡¯t understand. A child should be able to go through here, has gone through here.
Taking part in this mental bombardment to strengthen her mind was the pinnacle of their journey. He hoped the rigors would churn her mind, enhancing her abilities, and the prowess to call upon them.
If she truly is the one in the prophecy and to has a steadfast chance against Xilor, this unfortunate place is a necessity.
Without this abhorrent site, the dark lord would tear her mind apart on a mere whim, regardless of magical abilities or lack thereof. Judas still wasn¡¯t sure he believed the whole prophecy, but he wouldn¡¯t deny the possibility either. It was a reality he hated to admit.
Sighing in frustration, he closed the book propped against his legs. He was no closer to understanding the secrets of the book, the Corridor of Cruelty, or Julie¡¯s inability to harness her essence. He scoured the contents for years, ages, and was no closer to achieving an understanding than the day the book was pressed into his hands.
False nightlife filled the background noise in the stretching silence between master and apprentice. The faint sounds were both irritating and a welcome relief against nothing.
Judas tilted his head back and looked at what few stars gleamed through the dark shroud of clouds. Julie stirred uneasily in the silence. He felt the disappointment and frustration roiling off her, nearly palpable. When the need for small talk arose, Judas usually left the task to someone far more elegant than he: Meristal. He searched feebly for any subject to talk about, and when he failed to find a suitable topic, he returned to the last conversation they had.
¡°Have you given any thought to what I said earlier? About standing up for yourself?¡± he asked, his eyes still gazing upwards at the stars. His throat constricted, and he couldn¡¯t help the mortification of his insecurity.
¡°No.¡±
Well, at least she¡¯s honest. ¡°No? Why not?¡±
¡°Well, I haven¡¯t been thinking of that at all, but on what you said about society expecting things to be handed to them.¡±
¡°Oh; and?¡±
¡°Well, all told, I think you¡¯re right. There are some people who want things given to them. They¡¯d rather take what isn¡¯t theirs than earn their keep like everyone else. I don¡¯t know as much about Ermaeyth as I would like. I haven¡¯t heard anything to make my next statement false, but if I¡¯m wrong, I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll correct me. The elyves still work and do everything for themselves even after the goblins attacked them all those years ago. I mean, if anyone deserves something handed to them, wouldn¡¯t it be them? They were innocent and yet attacked because¡ªI don¡¯t know why. They could have sat back and demand retribution for the past war crimes, but they didn¡¯t, which reflects greatly on their society. I do, however, think the goblins should pay some penance.¡±
¡°You make some good points, all worth taking into consideration, but there are those who think the opposite and people deserve hand-outs. Most of us, including historians, agree the goblins were the aggressors. Some still believe they should be given money, positions, and power, simply because they think they were acting out at the injustices we placed upon them. That¡¯s the root of the problem. They¡¯re only the way they allowed themselves to be. Tell me, should we let you be the queen of the Ralloc domain because we exiled your ancestors so long ago?¡±
She scoffed and rolled her eyes. A quick dart of her hand pulled back a loose tress of honeyed hair behind her left ear.
¡°No, of course not! The crimes committed by the exiles isn¡¯t my fault, nor is the punishment they received meant for me. It was just an unforeseeable side effect. I didn¡¯t do the crime, so I shouldn¡¯t be punished. You rectified the situation: you brought me over and tried to make things right. My ancestors, though, that¡¯s different. They deserved the punishment, for whatever reasons those may be. Why should I reap the punishment of someone else¡¯s crime? Besides, I shouldn¡¯t take advantage of someone else¡¯s labor. You and Ralloc did just fine before I got here, so why would I rule? That doesn¡¯t make any sense at all.¡±
He smiled to himself, evaluating her argument built on sound logic. ¡°And there you have one of the greatest arguments in history,¡± he instructed. ¡°Traditional people who are conformist prefer the longer view of life; then you have open-minded people who prefer the short-term view and are most generous with other peoples¡¯ time and hard-earned money. It¡¯s hard to find a perfect balance between opposites, but to achieve such admirable results, you need both. I don¡¯t condone people starving, and I think they should be helped to a degree; but if a man doesn¡¯t work, then he shouldn¡¯t be allowed to eat at another man¡¯s table or by another man¡¯s ingot.¡±
¡°Why are we talking about this?¡± Julie asked. In the darkness, the firelight flickered across her face, her brow nettled.
¡°Well, you brought the subject up by admitting you haven¡¯t been thinking about what I said earlier, but in a way, you have. By not thinking of yourself, you thought of others. I was curious as to how, what, and why you¡¯d think it. If I can understand those things, then I can understand you.¡± He paused to give her a long, measured look. ¡°You grasp modern society¡ªthe pulse of the people¡ªas the younger generations say.¡± He waved his hand for emphasis, sharing a smile with Julie. ¡°Let me ask you a question: if you received a million ingots and were told to spend it how you see fit but for the good of the people, how would you carry out such a task?¡±
¡°I don¡¯t know!¡± she sputtered. ¡°Certainly on something they needed. I don¡¯t know the specifics of how your school works¡ªDivinity Enigumas¡ªbut I would build another one, closer to Ralloc. Maybe for specialized study, for those who graduate the regular school?¡±
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Divinity Enigumas? I don¡¯t remember telling her about the school.
He sifted through the short time they had spent together and found no recollection of telling her of the place. A cold suspicion settled over him. The only plausible explanation was the books he used during her Essence Transference, which only made him wonder what else managed to slip through undetected. The notion bothered him profoundly. He hadn¡¯t been as careful as he thought. What other subjects managed to find their way into her mind because of his carelessness?
The warlock found his voice. ¡°So, in other words, you¡¯d build a school for higher learning and education, where people could go to learn more in-depth on particular subjects? Sound about right?¡±
She nodded.
¡°How would the school make money? Remember, we aren¡¯t giving you money to run it each year, so how would you sustain the school without funds?¡±
Julie delved deeper into her musings. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± she said, put off by his sudden curiosity. ¡°Probably a pay-as-you-learn deal. That¡¯s the only thing I can think of. Why?¡±
¡°I just learned something else about you by the way you think,¡± he said, smiling. ¡°You¡¯d build a school for the betterment of the domain, and for the individual who chose to go there; but you didn¡¯t say you¡¯d force anyone to attend, and you didn¡¯t make the service without strings attached. You gave everyone something for their use and could improve or enhance their stature for jobs and the community. Very good.¡±
¡°Why? What difference does it make what I¡¯d do with the ingots?¡±
A gleam came to his eye, one he didn¡¯t hide nor would he want to. He changed his posture, sitting up straighter. Regardless of the politics in the capital, he genuinely cared about the people of the realm. He wanted to help, inspire, make society a better place, and he hoped he could arouse Julie¡¯s interest in his personal beliefs and devotions. Though made an outcast and feared by an underprivileged community, he cared for them and hoped to inspire others by leading the way. He embodied the change he wanted to see in the world, but was terrified of his eventual failure. Trying everything in his power to avoid defeat, he¡¯d give up long after others lost their way. Judas hoped she distinguished his care for her wellbeing like everyone else¡¯s. If he fostered this passion for the people who feared and rejected him, how would he feel towards her¡ªsomeone who hadn¡¯t rejected him?
He answered her. ¡°Some people would do the same as you and build something for everyone to use if they chose to, but there are those who¡¯d hand the money out, and let people spend their boon as they saw fit. In their defense, it wouldn¡¯t necessarily be bad, but what long-term good would have come from it? What can people learn from having money just given to them? Sure, some businesses can turn more profit with extra funds, and some people could start their own business or plant more crops or sell more goods at the markets; all based on the assumption everyone would turn around and put their new-found money back into the economy. Not everyone would, so it wouldn¡¯t do any good for the distant future. It¡¯s just a short-term, temporary thing. A quick fix, if you will.¡±
Julie nodded absentmindedly. Her eyes shifted to him, a troubled look coming to her face. ¡°What happened between you and the Kothlere Council? How did the animosity get started?¡±
¡°The Kothlere Council?¡± His eyes betrayed his surprise that she¡¯d be interested in something so mundane and yet specific. ¡°Well¡ª¡± he cleared his throat. ¡°The council hasn¡¯t always been, nor did it go by the name Kothlere. Emissaries from various kings or rulers of races made up the first one. It was enormous, somewhere around a hundred and twenty-five people. We even had an esteemed guest from the Kran Empire on the other side of the world. War, poverty, and famine spread, severing ties. Not the Wizard¡¯s War, mind you, but wars in general. Lands recalled their dignitaries, and it was disbanded. No one thought much of the slow and steady dwindling of members.
¡°The council¡¯s primary purpose had been to keep neighboring lands informed of troop movements and make official reports so no one would assume acts of war when protecting their borders.¡± He sighed, deep and slow. ¡°After the realm had recovered from poverty and famine, the consensus revolted at the idea of reforming what they considered a useless body, so no one sent their dignitaries back. In turn, sovereignties strengthened armies, borders tightened, and trade became restrictive. In short, the very thing the council had initially been created to ward against happened. And then,¡± he said, his words weary, ¡°came the Wizard¡¯s War and the fight against Xilor.¡±
At the mention of Xilor¡¯s name, the warlock saw his apprentice shiver. She knew the summed up history of him, a vile monster and a mass murderer. He tried to restrict such knowledge.
¡°We were so uncoordinated,¡± he added, sidestepping her reaction. ¡°We didn¡¯t know who had what within their lands, the size of their armies, or whether they needed reinforcements or supplies. Xilor marched over us like we were ants, and uncoordinated ants at that. He had speed, numbers, magical strength, and communication on his side. We had none of those benefits in the beginning.¡±
¡°How did you overcome the communication problem?¡± Julie inquired, intrigued.
¡°We learned by spying¡ªwe stole the method from them. Xilor originally came up with the method he used against us during the war. We sent in a few of our most trusted goblins, and they watched his followers make contact with their then-unknown master. Xilor didn¡¯t reveal himself to the whole realm until late into the war, almost at the very end. He worked in a cloak-and-dagger style fighting. When our goblins came back across the enemies lines, we extracted the memories and examined them for ourselves. I¡¯d like to take credit, but no. I did help in the beginning, deciphering the memories, but during that time, I had a hard go of establishing myself because of my youth. People refused to listen, so I left.¡±
¡°Where did you go?¡±
¡°Well, much like you¡¯re an apprentice now, I, too, was an apprentice. I left the master assigned to me in search of another. I¡¯d heard of a being, and I vowed to seek him out.¡±
¡°With a war going on?¡± Julie queried, perplexed.
¡°The war isn¡¯t what everyone thinks; it was sporadic¡ªa skirmish there, a battle here, nothing solid or concrete, no declarations, and lacked solidifying forces wearing uniforms and armor. Each incident seemed isolated from the other with no linking factor between them. We thought the fights were just border disputes, but Xilor used them to weaken us and reduce our ability to counter-attack. He destroyed crops and towns, and even the carpenters¡¯ and blacksmiths¡¯ shops. Vampires devoured herds under the presumption of hunger. The list of the damage he instigated is endless, and we never suspected anything! The price we pay for being fools.
¡°And while we dealt with these small battles, which were occasional, he geared up for a massive assault. So during this ¡®war¡¯, I went and learned from the being, but my tutoring under him came to an abrupt end when Xilor made himself known. He committed many dark and sinister atrocities out of public view. The Great Wizard¡¯s Circle, for instance, was all but destroyed. Xilor made a fatal mistake that ended up costing him: he revealed himself before he totally crushed us. The showing of his hand gave us the push we needed. It gave us a common enemy to focus on. Had he never revealed himself, today we might all be speaking Draconian or some other foul language.
¡°When the war finally ended, the council reformed but under a different banner. Each race argued about what it should be named, where to be seated, who should be on allowed to reside, and so on. Eventually, a few of my friends and I persuaded them to name it Kothlere and seat it in Ralloc, in the house of Kothlus. There were supposed to be seven members in all, including the consul: one wizardkind, an elyf, one goblin, a dwaven, one troll, a centaur, and the consul, who could be from any group. But unrest came with the decision.
¡°The dwaven refused their seat outright, saying they didn¡¯t want anything to do with the outside world, but I suspect it had more to do with the xenophobic king than the dwaven themselves. The elyves declined their seat after deliberations, saying immortals mingling with mortal affairs would be improper. Most of the wizardkind were outraged about trolls being on the council, and the goblins refused if we permitted trolls. Long-story-short: the paper pushers moved legislation around, and they cut out the trolls, suddenly classifying them as animals and not sentient beings, making the majority happy but slipping down the slope of immorality.
¡°The goblins capitalized on the now-empty seat and pushed for two of their kind. Someone crafted devious legislation, ensuring that if a goblin consul were named, they¡¯d vacate one of their seats indefinitely. Since then, there has been nothing but wizardkind as consuls. And thus,¡± he said with great arm movements like he presented a grand masterpiece to a crowd, ¡°the history of the council, relatively.¡±
¡°Why did they go from over a hundred to just seven?¡±
¡°Insightful, aren¡¯t you?¡± Judas smiled in the flickering orange light. ¡°The decision came about that it¡¯d be best for one representative per race instead of one representative from each kingdom or empire; in a sense, forcing all rulers to work together and influence the one or two members available to them. Thus, all the domains worked in unison. The initial thought is all but moot. Many smaller kingdoms combined to form a larger one, at least, the races that aren¡¯t wizardkind. The smaller kingdoms of wizardkind formed a republic long ago, turned over by a monarch.¡±
He caught a minute movement out of the corner of his eye, Julie trying to stifle a yawn, but to no avail.
¡°Get some sleep,¡± Judas offered. ¡°You have a big day tomorrow. I sense we¡¯re nearing the end of our journey, and hopefully soon, we¡¯llbe on our way. I¡¯m going to get some sleep, too.¡±
¡°Nearing the end?¡±
¡°Get some rest,¡± Judas reiterated. ¡°Tomorrow¡¯s going to be a long day.¡±
Chapter 24: Here Madness Dwells
Many minutes passed before her master¡¯s rhythmic breathing reached her ears. The sound, a pleasant deep rumble, a soft almost nuance-snore. She curled up on her side, listening to his cadence. The alien nightlight flickered about her, peppering her auditory faculties with unease. Crickets chirped, a hollow sound, ending moments too early, almost impossible to distinguish, but she could. The grass whispered in sighs as animals slithered or padded. She latched onto his snores, focusing on them, hoping to wash away her disquiet.
While listening, she thought back over their conversation they had. Some of the things said she agreed with. At one point, she felt a rush of affection for him. She tried to imagine what it was like for his children growing up, how they managed to live with a father hailed both hero and scapegoat, war veteran and warlock. At times, she peered past the armor he built up around him, the facade of a mentor, teacher, and saw the man beneath, his soul naked and bare. In those moments, she almost wished she had someone like him to call father, a part of a family. She had a father and mother, but she couldn¡¯t remember them. For a moment, she wondered what they must be going through, not knowing what happened to her, where she¡¯d gone. She made a mental note to ask Judas later.
She tilted her head to regard him, smiling as he dozed. He would¡¯ve been a great father to have. But a part of her also couldn¡¯t identify with the sentiment, having been his apprentice. She glimpsed a side of him his children never did. Sighing, she let those speculations slip from her grasp and returned to the conversation they had.
It was nice to hear him talk about long-term plans and ideas. He genuinely cared for the people of the realm, and the council filled with a bunch of idiots. The people¡¯s prosperity was foremost on his mind. His affection meant a lot to her, showing he had¡ªor would¡ªput a lot of thought into her future with him and beyond. He would help her achieve her highest potential. And for a moment, all her anger and resentment she had been building towards him as they entered the Corridor seemed so trivial.
Don¡¯t ever forget what he is like! the voice sneered.
Was that her inner voice telling her never forget his sidestepping or his abandonment? Perhaps her worst fears awoke to remind her? At this point, she wondered what her worst fear would be. Fail so utterly that Judas would abandon her? That she would never be able to help him fight against Xilor should he ever rise again? Then she remembered the nameless young man in Dlad City. What if Judas had found her with him?
Mortification lanced her.
What if he¡¯d walked in on them in various stages of undress? What if he discovered them while having sex? Her chest burned with embarrassment, and the humiliation only distressed her further. But beneath her initial reaction, a blas¨¦ defense flared to life.
What does it matter what I choose to do with my body and with whom? It¡¯s none of his business!
She tried to push such embarrassing reflections aside, instead focusing solely on the young man in Dlad City. Much to her chagrin, she couldn¡¯t recall his face, which escalated the sense of shame¡ªa victim of the seducing lust with the inability to recall her intended.
It¡¯s not my fault! she reminded herself, seemingly better. Why am I so defensive?
Both Meristal and the author of the book¡¯s passage told her the fault didn¡¯t lay entirely with her. Still, she couldn¡¯t help the reaction of being abnormal, defective.
What if the defect spilled over into my ability not to use magic?
She chased those wayward thoughts until late in the night and discovered another truth. When she had asked Judas what happened between him and the council, what caused the animosity, he answered with a long-winded explanation about the origin of the council and the Wizard¡¯s War. Never once did he broach what caused the breach between them. Realizing this only furthered the hardening of her soul against him.
Damn it! He did it again!
He still held his secrets close. Maybe he had the right considering everything that happened to him, and it did nothing but disillusion her, marring their relationship as hollow and jaded.
Still, she found comfort listening to his measured breathing. Only when she stilled her mind and returned to listening to his rhythmic breathing did she surrender to sleep.
Julie woke up unexpectedly to the quiet echoes of early-morning life in the Corridor. The sounds bathed her with an eerie impression. There was something strange about them, not quite right, forced and unreal. She listened harder, deeper. The chirping of a cricket didn¡¯t seem the same, but at first, she couldn¡¯t think why or how. The flat tone and odd timing pulsed out toward her.
In the pause between drawn out chirps, an owl hooted in the distance, and that, too, sounded different, hollow. It didn¡¯t carry the same resonance it customarily did. Peering out into the expanse, she failed to spot the animal in question, but in the stygian atmosphere, she didn¡¯t see anything past a few feet. Only in the distance did she see a faint ribbon of crimson, heralding the coming dawn.
¡°Good morning! You¡¯re finally awake,¡± Judas said in a cheerful voice, almost in a sing-song. He squatted near the fire. The steady beat of forced sound from the early morning life throbbed painfully in her ears as she turned. ¡°Breakfast?¡± he offered, smiling at her.
Damn, a morning person. Just perfect!
She couldn¡¯t stand someone bubbly and cheerful in the early morning. ¡°Sure,¡± she mumbled as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes¡ªeyes that were still fighting to remain closed for a few hours more. She wished she hadn¡¯t stayed up so late.
Rolling out of her sleeping pallet, she hobbled closer to his small fire where he squatted, stirring something lumpy and flecked in a black pot.
¡°What is it?¡± she questioned with mild disgust.
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¡°Probably best if you don¡¯t know. Just eat, it won¡¯t kill you,¡± he promised, and then he handed her a cup. ¡°I made a hot drink for you, too.¡±
They didn¡¯t have bowls, so they both ate from the community pot. Julie tried to the best of her ability to choke down the mysterious creamy substance he prepared. She was grateful until her first spoonful, finding the texture akin to snot dripping down the back of her throat. Something hard and squishy caught in her teeth, and she set her spoon down to take a sip of the drink instead. The hot, dark, and bitter substance slid down her throat, triggering a vague familiarity about it. Its aroma warmed her, inviting repressed memories to return. She didn¡¯t bother to inquire about the liquid, a far better alternative than the mystery slop she forced down. Besides, the drink kept the morning chill at bay and helped her wake up.
¡°Why¡¯s the Corridor what it is?¡± she asked, holding the warm mug in her hands.
¡°What do you mean?¡±
¡°What makes it do things the way it does?¡±
¡°I think I know what you are getting at. You want an explanation as to why the Corridor is here, why it works?¡± Julie nodded, remaining mute, as he continued without pause. ¡°No one truly knows how it operates, why it¡¯s here, the way it influences the people who enter. There is, of course, lots of supposition, but nothing acknowledged as certain. Anything I tell you is based on speculation by the best minds and through my personal experiences and beliefs.
¡°It was, in theory, created during the time of Hagen, the Father of Magic. An interesting notion, to be sure, but lacks empirical evidence. But it did give rise to the speculation this strip of land is a result of all the sudden infusion of energy during his time and formed from a cesspool of excess¡ªtwo opposites surviving synchronously, creating and destroying at the same moment, surviving in a constant state of flux. It¡¯s both stable and unstable but can never be one or the other. Do you understand?¡± He paused, and Julie¡¯s face fell into a blank expression. When she didn¡¯t reply immediately, he continued.
¡°There are other theories; for example, that Hagen himself created this place. In my opinion, I don¡¯t think so. It¡¯d give him too much credit where none is due. Yes, he¡¯s the Father of Magic, and he did introduce a lot into the world, but he wasn¡¯t a god. Not to toot my horn, but I¡¯ve bested Xilor, the strongest known magical wielder of our time, and even I couldn¡¯t create the Corridor¡ªor anything similar. I wouldn¡¯t know how. I think, in my limited view, its creation came about through the Lord of the Underworld.¡±
¡°What does that mean?¡±
¡°Have you ever heard of the Shades?¡± he asked, and then answered for her. ¡°No, of course, you haven¡¯t. What was I thinking? A Shade is a side of us, a part of what makes us wizardkind. You have emotions, your physical presence, and your mental faculties. Those three things¡ªemotionality, physicality, and mentality¡ªmake up the Shades; one Shade per essence, if you will. I think the Corridor of Cruelty is formed through Shades or at least, operating through them.¡± He fell silent as he began eating again. After a few bites, he washed it down with the hot, dark, bitter liquid and moved to eat again when Julie interrupted him.
¡°Well?¡± Julie inquired impatiently. ¡°Go on!¡±
¡°What are you talking about? That¡¯s my theory.¡± He shoveled more food into his mouth.
¡°What is a Shade? What does it mean to me?¡±
¡°I just told you what a Shade is. What it means to you is inconsequential. It is what it is, and nothing will change that. If I were to sit with you and explain every detail of a Shade or the essence of the Underworld, it wouldn¡¯t make a hill-of-beans difference here. Nothing will change it, so don¡¯t worry.¡±
¡°I¡¯d still like to know, for personal knowledge, what the Shades are,¡± she said, changing her tactics, allowing her voice to go soft and almost pleading.
Judas gave a loud sigh and put less food in his mouth so he could talk and eat simultaneously. ¡°The Shades are a myth. No, not a myth, a poor choice of words.¡± He tarried to swallow and consider his next words, and then he took another bite and tried again. ¡°The Shades have never been proven to exist, much like no one god of any creature or race has been proven to exist. It¡¯s not necessarily faith that makes some believe, rather a rational, critical thinking about the way magic behaves. A born necessity. How they can think this as proof is beyond me,¡± he said, and then defensively held his hands up to prevent any questions. ¡°They, being the people who can rationally and critically think, believe Shades are like ghosts, neither part of this world nor part of the next. Some judge they are spirits while others think they are either servants of a god or ghouls of the Underworld. There¡¯s no way to tell, but the most interesting thing about the idea of Shades existing is this: the Corridor works exactly like the theory of Shades, which tests you emotionally, physically, and mentally. There¡¯s nothing else to it than that, and that¡ªin and of itself¡ªis the key.¡±
¡°I think,¡± Julie said slowly, watching him finish the pot of food, ¡°you didn¡¯t tell me anything just now.¡±
Judas was silent for a moment as he thought about her statement. He smiled. ¡°Indeed.¡±
She eyed him disparagingly as he stood and stretched, rubbing his belly.
He¡¯s keeping things from me again.
The warlock set about cleaning the pot and dowsing the fire, tidying up the site rather quickly with the aid of wizardry. He shouldered his pack eagerly, like a young sailor about to make his maiden voyage. Julie, however, barely managed to scrape herself up from the ground. Her eyes were heavy with exhaustion.
They wound their way along the trail for more than an hour until they came upon their first sign. Judas, without pause, continued to the right of the sign. Julie stopped to read and then looked after her master, puzzlement engraved on her face.
¡°Where are you going?¡± she called after him. He turned to look at her, and she pointed to the sign. ¡°It says we need to go left.¡±
¡°No, it says you must go left. I go right.¡± He gave her a casual wave as he left her once again, for what seemed like the hundredth time since they had entered. She sighed wearily and continued along the left trail.
The rickety rut eventually led her to a narrow path along a cliff face. A tree up to her left grew out of the cliff side with its roots winding down in the rock. One root as thick as a branch jutted out over the trail, curving overhead to form what looked like a threshold. It wouldn¡¯t have been so unusual, except that beyond the root¡ªthrough the threshold¡ªwas but a shadow. Her eyes couldn¡¯t penetrate the darkness beyond. Apprehension gnawed at her insides, the tenebrous destination instigating rife trepidation within her.
¡°You have a big day tomorrow,¡± she remembered Judas saying to her the previous night. She almost trudged through before she caught sight of the writing on the root above her head. Her steps faltered, pausing to read the letters scratched in, etched by a blade and shaking hand.
Here madness dwells.
She couldn¡¯t presume as to what kind of trick the Corridor attempted. Julie didn¡¯t feel the eyes upon her like she had when they first entered, but she did note the absent sense of waiting or anticipation. Even the voice warning her off or laughing at her predicament fell away.
Perhaps Judas had been right, the end of the journey was imminent. But the scratched letters did little to quell her qualms, though the logic of her thoughts gave her hope. Still, she found the possibility that someone had lost their mind and etched the words into the root unnerving.
How could someone lose their mind and still have enough sanity to carve the warning?
The uneasy feeling subsided when she analyzed the events, the conclusion inevitably a paradox, a trick on her mind, like all the rest.
Assured, she entered the doorway.
Chapter 25: Mr Pleasure
¡°Wake up!¡± a coarse voice boomed. The bellow was deafening and painful to her ears.
A massive, meaty backhand smashed her face, sending her rocking in the chair and nearly tipping to the ground. The fall would¡¯ve hurt more than the massive hand. Her skull would¡¯ve cracked on the stone floor. Metal clamps around her wrists secured her arms to the armrests; ropes bound her forearms.
Blinking back the stars and the sudden tears in her eyes, she fought to focus on the man in front of her. Julie¡¯s head lolled, her eyes rolling sleepily back and forth until she could make sense of what she saw. A large fire illuminated every dirty crevice in the small, brick-lined room.
Where am I? What is this place, a dungeon?
It didn¡¯t make sense, but the contrary evidence was impeccable. Suits of armor stood randomly, cluttering the small room. Weapons of every kind littered the floors and crowded a few small tables: swords, maces, axes, knives, arrows. Various clothing lay heaped in piles, torn and blood-splattered.
Her eyes latched onto the chilling man. In a moment, she knew she had never laid eyes on him before. The word huge did him an injustice. His staggering height was rivaled by his roundness. Arms showed signs of muscle hidden beneath a profound amount of fat. His immense belly swelled out towards her, and she doubted he could reach her with his arms. Being tied to a chair was a hard argument to sidestep; the throbbing sting on her face reaffirmed her miscalculation.
His lower jaw jutted noticeably. A profound under bite revealed chipped teeth, cracked and nicked while he ground them in his slumber. Stench reached her nostrils, a mixture of sweat, mildew, and dirt. A faint undertone of copper or something metallic hid subtly beneath the backdrop.
Her head snapped back and forth frantically, searching for an escape. ¡°What the fuck?¡± Her breath came in rapid pants.
He moved closer; his shaved head glistened with perspiration. A white scar reached from below his left eye down to his jaw, a jagged line like a contour map. He turned away and walked to a table by the back wall. Her eyes flickered between her captor and the monstrous hearth, the length twice that of her height. The crackling, tall flames filled the room with stifling heat. With his back to her, he rubbed the sudor from his head, flinging his hand to the side. Flecks of sweat splatter the stone floor.
The bald man turned back to her with hands wrapped in cloth; a sinister smile split his face. ¡°My name is Mr. Pleasure,¡± he almost whispered, leering at her. ¡°You shall call me by no other name than Mr. Pleasure. Should you call me anything but my name, I¡¯ll cut out your tongue.¡±
When Julie didn¡¯t say anything else, he continued. ¡°You¡¯ll find that pain and torture can be a pleasure; you¡¯ll learn to love it, for it is the only thing that makes you know you¡¯re alive. Pain connects everything. If you survive, you¡¯ll appreciate the pain of other things¡ªthe things of the world¡ªand they¡¯re nothing compared to what I¡¯m going to do to you. In that, you may find comfort, for your life will be painless compared to this.¡±
He pulled up a long thin rod, the tip pointed and sharp, and rolled it in his fingers. Admiring the tool, his eyes flickered to hers, making sure she watched, terrified. He lumbered forward, his movement slow but methodical.
¡°Let us begin, shall we?¡± He leaned over her right hand, his clamping down on hers. ¡°This is going to hurt,¡± the dark promise slithered out of his mouth. He shoved the sharp, thin shaft slowly into the tip of her right index finger. She bit down; her throat constricted, her body twitched, spasmed, tried to jerk away but couldn¡¯t move. The bindings held tight, and the pressure of the man¡¯s hand kept her still. The agony was impossible to fathom.
Julie attempted to kick out while she screamed, bucking against the restraints. She pulled at them, wished them to yield. A smile spread across the fat man¡¯s face. Curses flew from her mouth as he stood, appreciating his work. Her eyes darted down to her right hand; the iron burrowed deep beneath her flesh, nestling the bone. Rising panic washed through her, breath coming in pants, her chest heaving. She screamed again, her throat hurting, throbbing, going raw. Veins bulged in her neck as if they¡¯d burst. He stepped back a pace before turning and retrieving another shaft from the table.
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¡°For some reason,¡± he spoke softly through her screaming, ¡°When I insert sharp objects into the hand, specifically the end of the fingers, the torment is almost unfathomable. I wonder why that is?¡± The look on his face made it clear he didn¡¯t care as long as he could inflict suffering. He seemed to grow in strength at her screams, gorging himself. He not only enjoyed her anguish, but fed off it.
Julie¡¯s screams died in her mouth when he showed her the next metal pin. He leaned closer, drool sloshing from his mouth and over her comely face. She wanted to vomit. A finger caressed her cheek. ¡°There¡¯s nothing more beautiful than someone in pain.¡± She cringed at his vile touch and whimpered. ¡°I¡¯ll give you a choice, sweetie. Shall we revisit the right hand, or would you prefer we move over to your left? What¡¯llit be?¡±
Lips pressed into a thin white line; her body trembled, but her eyes glared at him, promising him a long and painful death. Other than escaped and trembling whimpers, she sued for silence. He sighed, a deep heave making his belly move perceptibly, and he strained as he stood straighter.
¡°You know, if you don¡¯t talk, there can¡¯t be clear communication,¡± he said in a sing-song voice. His hand slammed down on her right hand, clenching it, crushing it, constricting the bones in her hand, hindering her efforts to squirm. Fighting against his strength, an impossible feat with his added weight, she was but a morsel in the jaws of a large predator. She noted that for such a large slob, he moved far more adroitly than she thought possible. He drove home the second rod into the middle finger of her right hand, the movement quick and violent, where the first had been slow and gentle by comparison.
She screamed and bucked against the pain, the chair wobbling, even with his added weight. Her head rocked back, bashing into the back of the chair, arms twisted and squirmed, skin tearing, rubbing raw from the rope. Blood poured from her fingertips, a steady drip splashing the floor. Erratic breath burned in her lungs, chest rising and falling at a frantic pace. Her eyes glazed over, a cool sweat prickled her forehead.
¡°Oh, no you don¡¯t!¡± She vaguely heard him move before cold water suffused her. She gasped, choking on the water as he dropped the metal bucket to the floor with a loud cacophony. The drenching water ignited her skin like a thousand tiny needles piercing her in an instant. The chill snapped her awake, her eyes opening wide in shock, the sting in her fingers acuter. A hoarse laugh peeled loose, a deep resonance.
¡°Kill me!¡± she screamed.
His laughter boomed, his mass seemingly growing with her pleas.
¡°Kill me!¡± she shrieked louder, panicking. An end to her suffering dominated her mind. ¡°Kill me, you fat son of a bitch!¡±
His laugh ceased, his lips falling from a smile to a snarl. A low, throaty growl emanated from him as he stormed to the back wall. He spun around deftly, a large pair of pliers in his hand.
¡°I warned you!¡± he roared. He crossed the room in two quick strides and hit her across the face with the cold, hard iron. Her nose broke in a sickening crunch. Her mouth washed with pain and sat at an awkward angle. Agony shot through her face, masking her fingers but for a moment. She blinked back stars as blood poured from her nose. She spat out teeth and knew he¡¯d broken her jaw.
Strong, gnarled fingers pried her lips apart, digging, searching, the pliers snaking into her mouth, snatching up her tongue. He pulled hard, Julie¡¯s head involuntarily moving with his jerk. She could see the soft, pink flesh clamped between the metal. A gurgling whimper turned into a scream as panic engulfed her. Mr. Pleasure drew a large knife¡ªalmost a bastard sword¡ªfrom his belt and leaned down.
¡°This will teach you.¡± He slid the sharp blade through her tongue, severing it.
Intense cold followed by blinding heat filled her mouth as quickly as the blood. In her shock, she inhaled rather than spit the red liquid out. He lifted her tongue so she could see it, in between the unforgiving teeth of the pliers, and the reality of what had happened sank in. Julie leaned forward and vomited, covering the floor with the remains of her stomach and the blood that had filled her mouth. She tried to curse him again but couldn¡¯t.
She wanted to scream, but he just laughed at her and swung the heavy pliers down across her head, rendering her unconscious.
Chapter 26: Mr Pleasure
¡°Wake up!¡±
A strong backhand slammed across her face, rocking her head back. Stars exploded in her view. It was much harder to bring everything into focus this time, and she was dismayed to see the obese man standing in front of her.
¡°My name is Mr. Pleasure,¡± he introduced himself as if they never met. ¡°You shall call me by no other name than Mr. Pleasure. Should you call me anything but my name¡±¡ªhe let his eyes cast about the room¡ª¡°I¡¯ll char your flesh over the fire.¡± He pointed with his thumb over his shoulder at the hearth. ¡°Do you understand?¡±
Julie looked at him for a long moment, taking in his sheer size and mass. If it were possible, she would have guessed he had gained weight since the last time she had seen him, but who knew how long ago that was? She remembered her broken jaw and her severed tongue, and then nothing.
¡°Do you understand?¡± he roared in anger. Mr. Pleasure slammed his fists down on the arms of the chair, his face looming close. His breath smelled like decay, fetid and malodorous.
¡°Yes,¡± she whimpered, shying away as much as possible, her face cringing. Bewilderment struck her that she could speak at all. She remembered seeing her tongue as he held it in the vice of the pliers. Consciously, she rolled her tongue around the sides of her mouth and was relieved to find it still attached. Thoughts whirled through her head as she tried to imagine how the fat man could have reattached it. The notion flabbergasted her; this brute was capable of doing something so ¡ magical.
¡°Good. Then, let us begin, shall we?¡± The echoing of his words sent a shiver down her spine.
He picked up a long, thin knife from the table and walked towards her. ¡°This,¡± he said holding it up for her to see, ¡°is a flaying knife. This beauty is what we use to skin beasts. Lucky for you today, the thing getting skinned is you.¡± He smiled with glee at the thought of inflicting discomfort. His jowls quivered with anticipation.
She swallowed, clamping down on her revulsion and fear, burying it deep; her torturer seemed to feed off it, an observation from earlier, but now confirmed. It was possible he was larger than before or seemed larger because she tried to make herself smaller, sitting as far back into the wood chair as she could as if to get away.
¡°This is going to hurt,¡± he leered, another echoing of words.
Slowly, methodically, he cut into her skin on her left arm. Uncontrollable convulsions shot through her. She shook hard, desperate to get away from him and from the pain he inflicted. Just the thought of being away from him made her grateful. A simple burning thought, hope for escape, allowed her to block out some of the agonies. She¡¯d never thought about something so hard in her life¡ªanything to escape her current predicament.
¡°You surprise me,¡± his voice said, breaking through her retreat. She blinked, and the solitude she formed in her mind faded away. Her wet clothes clung to her body, but she dared not take her eyes off him. But that¡¯s what he desired, Mr. Pleasure, for her to see the horror he wrought.
He seemed almost deflated when he spoke. ¡°Look at yourself.¡±
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She refused, knowing what would happen if she did; her eyes would behold the revulsions he inflicted. Panic would rise, her need to get away, to flee, would overcome any sane thought, and she¡¯d feed him. He¡¯d grow stronger as she lost her mind. Her emotions, and the control she had over them, only empowered him. Looking was giving in. Finding a way to take his power away, his control, would strengthen her, but what could she do bound to a chair?
¡°Look!¡± he shouted the command. But still she refused. Letting out a snarl, he snatched the back of her hair, pushing her face downward, but she closed her eyes. ¡°Good!¡± he bellowed. ¡°You don¡¯t want to see? You want to close your eyes. Fine! I will cut off your eyelids. Then you¡¯ll have to!¡±
He crossed over to the table and picked up something very small, no larger than a fork, with a small blade on the tip before crossing back over and strangling her by the throat. ¡°Hold still, unless you want me to cut your eyeballs,¡± he said, both snarling and smiling simultaneously.
Julie tried to struggle at first, moving her head, shying and jerking away from the impending agony and his arduous grip. The cold metal left angry red trails across her skin. She screamed and tried to squint her eyes shut, willing him to stop; anything to keep him from carving her, but she held still in the end. She thought frantically back to the escape buried deep in her mind, but the serene landscape eluded her. Julie couldn¡¯t think of anything but the impending threat of the blade and the thought of him cutting off her eyelids.
The fire of the laceration danced across her skin, her face burning as hot blood ran rivets down her cheeks. The sharp sting ricocheted all through her body, a trauma blossoming in the back of her head and shooting down her spine. Another scream ripped through the air, one so loud it hurt her ears. His hands worked deftly; her strength sapped and the ability to fight him off vanished.
¡°Now look!¡± he said. Strong, calloused fingers snaked through her honeyed tress, his grip threatening to rip out her hair as he forced her to gaze down at her arm. He flayed the skin off her left arm from wrist to elbow. Muscle and blood pooled in recesses, the skin a sickly white and pink, a thin layer of fat clinging to the underside of her peeled flesh. The vivid redness of her muscles burned into her mind. The walls around her mind crumbled, whatever defense she built up came crashing down after seeing what the monster had done. A renewed scream came crawling up her throat into the room.
¡°You fat fucking son of a¡ª¡± A meaty hand crushed into her temple, stars exploding in her sight, the blow hard enough to end her words. Julie¡¯s head rocked to the side, and her body slumped, on the cusp of consciousness and unconsciousness.
An odd scraping sound of metal on stone filtered through before she distinguished a thud through the metal chair. The jarring effect brought her back from the brink momentarily before she slid back towards the welcoming darkness. She sought the darkness, anything but Mr. Pleasure and his tortures.
She didn¡¯t know when she started to feel the new sensation, but she experienced heat, and her body protested against the odd position it rested in. Sweat peppered her body, her vision fluttered, focusing through the luminance. Flames thundered below her, licking the air between her and the bed of coals. Her arms were bound behind her, and her ankles were fastened to a metal rod, roasting like a pig on a spit. A quick, panicked glance out into the room and she spied the bulky man. He smiled as the flames rose underneath her. With defiance, she held his gaze. This monster, no matter what he did to her, would be deprived of the satisfaction of feeding off her screams and discomfort. She¡¯d hold out for as long as possible.
The aching need, the want and desire to kill him fed her, giving her strength to resist screaming. The suffering ascended, the heat melting her flesh. Her skin boiled, blistering, rising and falling, flourishing down her legs and over her stomach. She wanted him dead, and she craved to be the one who delivered it. Her mind dwelled on this one thought as the smell of cooking flesh filled the room. His laughter broke the hold of her desires, the torment rising to an unbearable point. She remembered hearing someone scream in the distance before she succumbed, embracing death.
Chapter 27: Mr Pleasure & Chapter 28: Ms Pleasure
This time was different.
The slap came first, waking her. Her vision peppered with spots; she tried to focus, blinking through the haze. She saw a prominent underbite and the long, gnarled scar running down the left side of his face.
¡°Wake up!¡± Another crash of his meaty hand stung her flesh, inciting pain from the sharp blow. The warm lingering aftereffects tingled long after his hand left her face. The first one was hard enough to wake her; the second nearly made her succumb to the blackness again. She wished for it a moment before the anger flared within her. Her chest burned, a fire building within, flames of rage licking her insides. The warmth of his slap paled by comparison. Her bright eyes narrowed in fury.
Today, something changed.
She never felt her essence, not until now. It swelled, rising with her fury, erupting from its silent tomb like wrathful skies lighting up the heavens. The hurricane of ferocity and magic swept away any logic of restraint.
¡°My name is Mr. Pleasure. You shall call me by no other name than Mr. Pleasure. Should you call me anything but my name, I¡¯ll carve out your innards and feed them to you.¡±
He turned and lumbered off to his customary table. Just hearing his voice churned the barely restrained turbulence. A multitude of vile and malevolent imagery flowed through her, pondering the possibilities of what she¡¯d do. Shadows stretched in the far corners of the room, deepening like the rising darkness of her thoughts, mirroring her emotions. Her essence flared to life.
He methodically scoured over his tools, planning his salacious and deplorable acts. The longer he dithered over his arsenal, the more her animosity built.
She grasped it now, definitively, like never before. The candle in her room back in Dlad City was a laughable attempt; she couldn¡¯t believe the ease in which she called upon her essence and never truly fathomed her potential.
Judas always told her she had the ability, but she never truly believed. Every heightened sensation coursed through her. Unequivocally, the sorcery was a part of her like her blood, inseparable, and coursing mutely through her veins. The effects she experienced were breathtaking, a drug sending her into a mind-altering state, drunk on potent possibilities.
Her heart fluttered, thundered, pumping blood and tingling magic through her. Her skin crawled, the fine hairs on her arms stood on end. Goosebumps rolled across her taut flesh; the energy quivered with excitement, furor. Her mind permeated, sinking lower in her lust for domination, a euphoric state washing over her, but more efficacious than any opiate. For the briefest of moments, she understood the Xilor, and why he was evil. He wanted this control; he thirsted for power.
In a moment of clarity, she empathized with him.
At least a part of him.
The power which held him in thrall captivated her, too. The addiction came from being able to hold this kind of destructive force on a daily basis, and each time she called upon her abilities, it¡¯d serve as a high. Julie would succumb to dependency as he did. A vague curiosity washed over her as to why Judas never told about this side of magic. Why wouldn¡¯t anyone tell her about the addictive nature?
She cast such worries from her mind as the malevolence took precedence. Her chance to lash out against her captor had arrived, to free herself from his bonds. The darkness in her promised to hurt him as he hurt her, an eye for an eye. The scar under his left eye came to mind¡ªshe would finish what someone else started. Taking his left eye would be a start, but she¡¯d take so much more.
She released her control of the rage within her, along with the essence coursing through her veins. Her subconscious took over allowing her innate abilities to come forth, spontaneous, unhindered, and of free will.
The energy lashed out with rapid progress as objects in the room moved. The swords laying up against the wall, axes and maces, knives, and arrows rose from slumber, quivering on invisible strings. Even the coals from the fire animated. Bows readied arrows and blades turned, their gleaming tips hovering silently in the air, poised behind the fat man¡¯s back. Rocks lumbered up from their resting places on the stone floor; even the bricks from the walls heeded her command, revolving leisurely, waiting for the order she longed to give.
The fat man, oblivious to what transpired behind him, began speaking, selecting his tool of preference for the day. ¡°I have something special planned for you, my sweet.¡± He paused to admire the gleaming silver blade of a wickedly curved knife. ¡°I¡¯ll even give you a hint¡ª¡±
The sudden shaking of his table cut off his words. He took a cautious step back, eyeing the miraculous. His metal tools jingled and rattled as the table vibrated. Mr. Pleasure stared a moment longer before he whirled around, facing his victim.
Her eyes gleamed with hate, malevolence.
Madness.
In that brief moment, all her doubts deteriorated.
The weapons, the rocks, the burning logs from the fire, all quivered with her hatred. The restraint she showed rivaled the magnificence of her power. Striking him down was the first aspiring move, later came pain and then death.
¡°By the damned spirits!¡± he yelled in astonishment.
¡°The damned spirits won¡¯t save you from me!¡± her once-soft voice grated. Before she managed to focus her thoughts to launch everything at him, Mr. Pleasure lunged at her with the curved knife, faster than she¡¯d seen him move before. In his alacritous moment, the blade sunk deep into her forehead.
Her eyes blinked, languid, as Mr. Pleasure lowered his head to eye level. ¡°What in the Shades of the Underworld are you?¡± It was the last thing she heard him say. The weapons, rocks, and coals clattered to the floor as her life passed from her body.
What the Shades of the Underworld are you?
What are you, Julie?
Chapter 28
¡°Wake up, darling.¡±
Something warm and soft press against Judas¡¯s lips. Judas stirred. His fluttering lids peeled back, his azure eyes focusing on the woman before him. His eyes pulled away from her to his arms held fast, shackled to a wooden chair and flickered back up to the woman. She was beautiful, angelic, just the way he remembered. Tall and curvaceous, lips the color of rose petals, a buxom woman¡ªthoroughbred in every sense. Clad in white cloth cut short, riding high on her thighs and a bosom wrap pushing up her breasts and scarcely covered them, she hovered near. Behind her shoulders trailed a long tress of bright golden hair so light it rivaled the white of cotton. Her finely spun hair glimmered with luster and flowed behind her, full of volume and a life of its own.
She leaned forward, bringing her face close to his, her cleavage looming near his face. A sweet smile, her breath cloyingly sweet, like vanilla and a touch of sugar. ¡°Oh, I¡¯ve waited a long time for you, darling.¡± Her smile widened, showing her perfect teeth.
¡°Ms. Pleasure,¡± Judas grumbled, the tone low in his throat.
Her sky blue eyes sparkled with mischief. ¡°You¡¯ve been gone a long time. The last time I saw you was¡ª?¡±
¡°When I broke your hold over me. What is this?¡± Judas asked, motioning to his arms with his head. ¡°I defeated the Corridor. You hold no sway.¡±
She laughed a throaty chuckle. ¡°Oh, Judas, you mistake your belief with boredom. But I¡¯ve found a new way for you to experience the pleasure of pain.¡±
¡°Look into my mind.¡±
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¡°What?¡±
¡°Look into my mind,¡± he commanded. The air shimmered between them, the pull of his power too strong to resist. Her eyes went wide, and her mouth fell open. The atrocities of war flickered through his mind, a river of visions, visceral and violent. Severed limbs, decapitations, intestines spilling out, their abdomens sickly red like a bowl of pulverized tomatoes and twisted noodles. Faces flashed between them, every death he recalled, more than most. Explosions, screams, the slaughter, the lives he¡¯d taken, and the armies sending their might against each other in a clash of bodies and a hail of iron and steel. The dark lord and their confrontation, the atrocities Judas committed defeating him, and the creature who wouldn¡¯t die.
The air shimmered between them again, and the visions faded.
¡°Tell me,¡± Judas intoned. ¡°What can you do to me that hasn¡¯t already been done?¡±
Ms. Pleasure pulled back from him, standing, her mouth open and face slack. ¡°You¡¯ve been busy.¡±
The warlock rolled his wrists emphasizing the bonds. ¡°What are we doing here?¡±
She cleared her throat. ¡°There was something I didn¡¯t see in your vision.¡± A dark smile came to her face, giving Judas pause. ¡°You were never helpless while someone you cared for suffered. Yes, those close to you died, but you never witnessed them break.¡±
¡°What are you talking about?¡±
¡°Your apprentice,¡± she purred, her voice like silk. ¡°Do you ever wonder what it¡¯d be like to see her crack, to lose grip on sanity?¡±
¡°Julie won¡¯t break.¡±
¡°Are you so sure? She seems fragile, don¡¯t you think? How long do you think it¡¯ll take for Mr. Pleasure to fracture her sanity? When she numbs to the physical torture, and Mr. Pleasure turns to emotional and metal torture, how long before she falls apart? Do you think she¡¯llsurvive the violation of her body as well as you did?¡±
¡°Julie won¡¯t break,¡± Judas repeated, but the words were empty. He had faith in his apprentice, but she¡¯d never been tested like this, shouldn¡¯t be tested like this. Not yet. Ready or not, she faced trials far beyond her abilities, and it¡¯d be a long time before she was prepared.
¡°Do you see your folly?¡± she whimpered, demure.
Judas had been a fool. In the hopes of sparking the magic within Julie, he opened her up to the potential horrors, horrors he understood well. What he didn¡¯t expect¡ªa miscalculation on his part¡ªwas the Corridor¡¯s inability to accurately judge her strength or knowledge. Stories emerged about children and even some adults walking through unscathed, untouched by the machinations of the narrow strip of land arching over the Abyss.
¡°And now, I have a way to rend you again, my sweet.¡±
Ms. Pleasure sauntered to the side, revealing a large, silver looking-glass, oval in shape, embraced by dark stained oak. The surface glowed green like the Psimond spell as though she called to someone. The image of Julie strapped to a chair appeared, sharp and clear. A massive bald man loomed into view, oblivious to their voyeurism. His large calloused hand clouted the side of her face, rocking her head backward.
Ms. Pleasure pulled back to the side, stepping out of his line of sight, fading away. Judas paid her no mind and sat riveted, terrified yet enthralled. He realized what was coming; he underwent something similar but with Ms. Pleasure. From the few stories he heard, only a handful of people ever met the pair, he being one of them. Usually, the tales came from those with prominent gifts.
He watched, horrified by what he viewed and the knowledge he was helpless to stop it. Regularly, she endured countless beatings, mutilations, and deaths. For every lash she received, he suffered it doubly. Silently, he offered a plea to the good spirits, hoping they hearkened his anguish and her tormented cries. She gradually broke before his eyes. The first few times just seemed like a bad reoccurring dream, but the reality burrowed deep. He recognized the stress, the pain in her eyes, the invisible fractures through her psyche.
Judas empathized with every blow she received, every cut, every death.
¡°Come on, Julie,¡± he muttered, having witnessed her tenth demise. ¡°It¡¯s not real. It¡¯s in your mind. Only your mind makes it real. Remember!¡±
Failing to discern his words, she fared no better the next dozen times. The torture Julie endured whittled her away. Every time she succumbed to death, Judas writhed, knowing what each session cost her. Ms. Pleasure tortured his soul without raising a hand to him. He wanted to turn away, to shield his eyes, but a nefarious ember of dishonor burned in the pit of his stomach. He¡¯d disgrace Julie by looking away, refusing to partake in her suffering.
The burden of fault was his alone. The warlock should¡¯ve foreseen this possibility of her falling into Mr. Pleasure¡¯s clutches, should¡¯veknown with the erratic behavior of the vile place. He hoped, a curiosity really, that her journey would aid her, but now he realized how utterly detrimental his injudicious notions were. She¡¯d fracture and perhaps never recover. He prayed that she found a way to free herself.
Something unexpected happened next. She awoke, a crazed gleam in her eye. Even from here, he sensed the swell of her essence, her rage. It rebuffed him, permeating the air, washing over him. He shivered. Only a few times in his life had he experienced such a presence, such force: Xilor and their subsequent battle; the third came from his former master, the gnomling, Fife Doole.
He sat riveted, a silent sentinel observing as she poured her magic, controlling the weapons around the room. Everything heeded her command, rising. The table rattled, and the startled fat man spun on her. Her absolute control was both beautiful and terrifying. Never had he witnessed such dominance in an untrained pupil. The awakening he hoped for had come, but he didn¡¯t want it like this, with a cost too great and terrible.
Mr. Pleasure lunged with an agility belying his bulk as he plunged the knife deep between her eyes. Her head slumped, and all the objects fell, clattering to the floor.
¡°What the Shades of the Underworld are you?¡±
What are you, Julie?
Judas sat back in shock.
What in the Shades of the Underworld?
The apt question tumbled in his mind and only brought more questions than answers. Upon meeting her, he surmised she held exceptional aptitude, but under the sway of Mr. Pleasure, both power and focus were hers to command. It took unbridled rage to call it forth. The feat no less spectacular, near impossible for someone so infantile to magic. That was, at least, until he witnessed it. But what troubled him most was her ability to conjure without an incantation.
Could she be a warlock, too?
If she commanded Rumigul, like he, then he¡¯d made a grievous error. He assumed she was destined for the Plotus branch.
Is this the reason why her magical skills seem so feeble next to the aura I can feel within her?
Watching her undergo the tortures of Mr. Pleasure was the hardest part for him. He remembered his time with Ms. Pleasure, recalled it vividly. Facing her captor should¡¯ve been years off. Her raw potential notwithstanding, she lacked the skill and experience.
Why did the Corridor read her so wrong? It has never done that before!
With Mr. Pleasure appearing on her first journey through, let alone within the first few days, troubled him deeply, shaking his faith. Only the most powerful ever met the keepers of the Corridor, and many people traveled through their entire lives without ever meeting the pair. The last step¡ªthe ultimate challenge it can offer a person.
And she faced it now¡
Once someone passed the test of the Pleasures, the Corridor became silent to them. He never endured anything beyond a mild discomfort, but now, he wished for a legion of awaited suffering rather than to watch this. The challenge he experienced now was observing while not interfering, a new kind of distress, but he dare not look away. To an extent, Ms. Pleasure was still torturing him. He remembered her shrill voice, sharp and clear, mocking him. ¡°You¡¯ll never escape me.¡±
He blinked, realizing she hadn¡¯t spoken for some time, and turned his head to the side to find her gone. The room was devoid of life. His gaze turned to the arms of the chair, finding his shackles were gone. How long had he sat there, free, and done nothing? Another way for Ms. Pleasure to torture him. It¡¯d eat at him, not knowing the answer. Did she free his restraints the moment she shifted away, and only morbid curiosity kept him spellbound and riveted? Or did she wait until Julie finally displayed some form of power, in a sense freeing him?
The purpose of the Corridor was to test a person¡ªin theory, stretch them to their limits and crush them, so they rebuilt into a stronger person. Julie¡¯s success rested solely on her failure. Ms. Pleasure attempted one last time to break him. He felt terrible, dismayed, but he wouldn¡¯t let the buxom torturer get to him. Julie needed him.
He glanced back at his charge, still bound to the chair, knowing she¡¯d succumb unless she remembered what he told her. The key was the power of the mind, which worked on perception, and magic was unlocked in the same manner, doubly so for a Rumigul user.
His student believed everything she saw and felt, and if she didn¡¯t cast aside the shroud of perception, he knew she¡¯d lose her mind.
If she isn¡¯t already, she might be unable to function at all.
Julie could come out of this completely mad, scarred for life.
Judas shut his eyes in anguish as a tear rolled down his cheek. He needed to step in, had to, for her sake. Her progress floundered, but finding her first was the key. As a master, he knew he shouldn¡¯t step in, but these weren¡¯t normal circumstances. The only reason he didn¡¯t skip the Corridor altogether was because of the elder fairy and her belief in their prophecy.
Judas didn¡¯t believe in presage, soothsayings, foretelling the apocalyptic future, or any other nonsense. In a way, allowing her to journey through tested the fairies¡¯ prophecy and his stubborn belief that such things didn¡¯t exist. If she was going to fulfill the fairies¡¯ prophecy¡ªif it was real at all¡ªand destroy Xilor, he shouldn¡¯t hinder her tribulations. After watching her struggle and fail so many times, he couldn¡¯t sit by and do nothing. The moral war raged within him, but after witnessing her crucible, he was decided. It¡¯d be detrimental for it to continue.
Resolved, he set out to end this madness.
Chapter 29: Meristal
The final interview from the review board concerning her tour at Mecas River City came to an abrupt yet pointed end. Their consultation hastily turned into an interrogation concerning the renegade warlock, a brand thanks to the consul and his propaganda machine. Her rising ire never broke through her calm demeanor, hidden well beneath the poised elegance. Meristal disavowed any knowledge of his whereabouts, and when the committee realized they¡¯d get no useful intelligence from her, they expeditiously slapped her with another tour, this time even further away from home. With a pristine smile, she gathered her belongings, politely rejected their offer, informed them of her immediate retirement, and left them slack-jawed. Turning on her heel, she left them fumbling for words.
The chamber was devoid other than the interviewers, the exit sloping up between the dark, wood benches. The white walls were startling bright without so many people in the chambers. Though empty, Kayis Dathyr¡¯s shadow loomed like a dark phantom over the proceedings. Undoubtedly, he didn¡¯t want any more witnesses to his abuse of power than necessary. In truth, he probably didn¡¯t care about Judas¡¯s current location, but it was one more way for the consul to exert his influence over those under him. As an exile, Judas remained a matter of the Republic, not a personal matter for the agents of the city and justice system.
Meristal walked out of the chambers, and for the first time in her life, had no place to be. She stopped and inhaled, feeling a burden lifting. Two guards in full ceremonial dress stood holding the door ajar, waiting for her to set off. Their magnificent, gleaming black plate armor captured the light and reflected it. Narrow, refined silver outlined their breastplates, pauldrons, and greaves. Long, black polearms with silver blades were gripped in their right, vise-like hands. White ceremonial under-robes shown in the separation of plates and silver cloaks hung from their shoulders. This part of the castle was off limits to the public, and sentinels quickly apprehended those without an escort. Without a further word, she started off, her two shadows moving in concert.
Feels like a prisoner retinue to a cozy cell more than a chaperon, Meristal surmised.
The small off-white tiles covered the floor in the Hall of Justice, a new segment of arranged courtrooms in a side by side fashion. Courtrooms closest to the entrance of the wing were for matters of the capital, the mid-courts for affairs of the realm¡ªthe surrounding land outside the city such as small villages and towns, their presence omitted on maps. The domain courts came next; those meant to govern all cities and lands extending beyond Ralloc and its immediate realm. Their jurisdiction went as far south as the Corridor of Cruelty to the Golden City in the east. This court didn¡¯t govern the elyves living to the north-east, deep inside the Vikal Mountains. The last door¡ªthe one she exited¡ªbelonged to the largest courtroom, the government¡¯s Kothlere Court which trumped all other courts and the highest anyone could climb in legal proceedings. Only a pardon by the consul or the Kothlere Council overturned this court¡¯s decision. Meristal had spent a lot of years defending her clients and Judas in there. His multiple appeals had been arraigned and denied within.
There¡¯s a lot of history here, history I¡¯m giving up.
It didn¡¯t bother her as much as she thought, walking away for the last time. History may be in the past, but it was once the destination of the present that mattered. It¡¯d always be a part of her.
Commissioned after the courts had outgrown the old wing, the Hall of Justice was built in the last three ages; the rock was different than the older parts of the palace. The architects tried to match the color as best as they could, the stone, a slight variant of a darker grade than the castle proper, but indiscernible during overcast days. The original exterior, built long before they perfected their craft, was cobbled together from rocks. As the years progressed and expansions made, the stones changed to brick, like this newest wing.
The interior was molded with exquisite care using serpentine stone, giving way between a black-to-green throughout the segments, a dramatic contrast to the bordering off-white tiles, which helped relieve the dark gloom and doubled as a reoccurring color scheme. Numerous torches helped combat the shadow. Darkness encroached this particular passageway; no windows graced this segment, but Meristal didn¡¯t know if this was due to an oversight while designing or intentional. Did windows signify freedom and solid walls foreshadow guilt and imprisonment?
Meristal and her troupe moved toward the intersection leading to other parts of the castle. Royal Guards stationed at the sides of each double door for the courts snapped to attention as she approached and reset as they passed. The color of their armor marked the biggest difference between the two. Her chaperon, clad in black, signified ceremonial dress. Royal Guards wore phthalo blue in its place. The ceremonial sentries guarded the Kothlere Council, the consul¡¯s private office, and the Kothlere Court. All other posts and positions were regulated to the Royal Guards.
Her eyes slid to a door as she walked. Blooded-ebony adorned the doors, a dense, hard wood, black to the core with stripes of dark red through the heartwood. Small, chiseled squares gilded in gold gave the door texture. The doorknobs themselves made of magically-enhanced gold, strengthening the soft metal.
Only the best for the Kothlere Order, Meristal noted.
She could almost hear Judas¡¯s biting comments on the matter. He¡¯d roll his eyes in disgust and bitch about the waste of resources for the sake of vanity.
Still, not as bad as the council¡¯s chambers, she amended.
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Her strides lengthened, the pace brisk, wanting to put distance between her and the decision she made. Behind her, heavy footfalls echoed in the corridor, sharp clinks of metal striking metal accented each foreboding step.
Retirement felt good. The reality hit her; she was no longer a Grand Wizard of Law. True, no one could take the knowledge away from her, and she was still sharp when it came to matters of legislation, but she no longer worked for the realm of Ralloc. For the first time in a long time, she walked the halls of the Kothlus Castle unemployed with nowhere to be. Not entirely true, but a likable fiction. Judas needed her, and she¡¯d be there to help.
The troupe came to an intersection of corridors, the floor shifting from serpentine stone to large white tiles checkered with a dark burnt-orange. She took a left, making her way towards the central passages. Without further need, the chaperon halted their escort.
In truth, she¡¯d put retirement off for years; it was the thrill of seeking balance, justice. She¡¯d made a lot of money, too, nearly five times her counterparts. There were two types of lawyers in Ralloc, government political and government directive. Both sounded identical, but they crossed blurred lines, the political side was geared towards being judges, mayors, and politicians, while directive was more for mastery of the law and was hired to be defendants of the people. The lawyers who prosecuted Judas at his citizenship trail aligned with the political party while she freelanced for a very specific clientele.
She was almost out of the front doors when someone shouted her name. Meristal turned to see a messenger bearing down on her. Once he came to a stop a few feet away, heaving, she held her hand out to cut him off.
¡°I¡¯m retired. Find someone else.¡± A sense of vitality washed over her upon uttering the words.
¡°I can¡¯t,¡± he said through gasps of breath. ¡°This person sent me to you and said he was part of your very specific clientele. He wouldn¡¯t give his name, and he said to tell you, ¡®I met a horse once who was smarter than his master.¡¯ Do you recognize these words?¡±
Meristal nodded. She¡¯d heard those words before, a long time ago, and only a few people were privy to them. The saying was made up during the Wizard¡¯s War, which narrowed down the list of possible people who knew the phrase. Most were deceased, and Judas wasn¡¯t in Ralloc as far as she knew. Still, intrigue captivated her. ¡°Take me to him.¡±
The messenger led the way back into the castle, weaving through crowded corridors, past guarded doors, and up broad staircases. His pace lacked haste as he caught his breath. After a few flights of stairs and twist and turns, the messenger brought her to a door and stopped.
¡°He¡¯s in there.¡±
Meristal reached out and opened the door, leaving the messenger to return to his duties. Her eyes narrowed in the dim light as she shut the door behind her. Her gaze wandered for a moment before falling upon the sole occupant of the room. He sat on a table on the far side in the room, shrouded in shadow.
¡°I met a horse once who was smarter than his master¡¡± he said.
¡°¡but unicorns were never meant to be ridden,¡± she finished the saying.
Out of the shadows, he came, a jovial smile illuminating his face. ¡°Hello, beautiful!¡±
Meristal rushed across the room, crushing him in an embrace, smiling. ¡°Daniel! It¡¯s been too long! I haven¡¯t seen you since the end of the war. What are you doing here? I thought you weren¡¯t allowed to leave your post?¡±
¡°Eh, I¡¯m not, but who gives two shits what some lawyer says!¡±
¡°Hey! Language!¡± she said chided playfully. ¡°And I¡¯m a lawyer, remember?¡±
¡°You always acted like a prune, but I see through the ruse! Lawyer? I heard you retired?¡±
¡°Yes and no. Damn! News travels fast! I no longer work for the government, but I¡¯ll take cases if I feel up to it, and I¡¯m not near the prune as some of the citizens!¡±
He laughed. ¡°And what does the legislation say about me being here in Ralloc?¡±
¡°You specifically? As what? The Heir of the Krey, or as Daniel the citizen? To be honest, nothing really, why?¡±
¡°I¡¯m just trying to make sure I¡¯m not breaking any serious laws by being here without a summon.¡±
¡°You came without being summoned? That could change things,¡± she intoned thoughtfully. ¡°We¡¯d have to look it up in the texts which could take hours. What is the heir doing in Ralloc if he isn¡¯t summoned?¡±
¡°Well ¡ I decided to plan and play war games with the erroneously overpaid jyneruls of the War Council, what-if scenarios and whatever else we can think of.¡±
¡°Well, if I made their kind of money, I¡¯d never retire, either!¡±
¡°I thought you made a lot being an Advocate of Law?¡±
¡°Oh, I did, but the jyneruls make double what I did. Three ingots a month is ludicrous compared to my salary.¡±
¡°At least, you get paid. And when you won, the payout was substantial!¡± The heir smiled. ¡°Enough about that, I need your help.¡±
¡°Gladly, anything for an old friend.¡±
¡°Anything huh?¡±
¡°I didn¡¯t offer sex.¡±
¡°But you said anything¡¡±
She smiled and rolled her eyes, a kiss of blush coming to her face. ¡°Other than me having sex with you, sure,¡± she grinned. Daniel had always been this way: perverted, crass, funny, but clueless about women in general. It was part of his charm; enduring and funny, his humor attracted her, and his lifestyle without rules had appealing traits. He didn¡¯t allow himself to be tied down and riddled with propriety or the dance between the two sexes.
¡°Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re still pining for the warlock. Come live with me in the, mountains and I¡¯ll make you happier than you¡¯ve been in a long time. We¡¯re getting too old to live life with wasted moments.¡±
Her eyes watered. ¡°Are you done?¡± she spoke with a mild bite.
¡°Yeah, I¡¯m done. I¡¯d do anything to make you happy. I hope you know that.¡± He sighed, resigned.
¡°What exactly do you need help with?¡±
¡°I need to know if it¡¯s against the law for me to be here in Ralloc without being summoned, or for my Krey to build defenses for a town.¡±
¡°I take it you already mobilized them.¡±
He nodded. ¡°If it¡¯s illegal, I need to know loopholes.¡±
¡°I¡¯m sure I can find some. The one thing about the council, they always write loopholes in for themselves and never think someone else will actually use them.¡±
Chapter 30: Raven
The fire crackled noisily, its flames dancing to an inaudible tune. Dinner, boiling in twelve small kettles, simmered, and the aromas made stomachs yearn. Thick, brown liquid bubbled. Thin coils of steam rose lazily into the night. Each Krey and A¡¯uri carried their personal kettles and were responsible for cooking their food for the journey. It was far easier to manage a small pot for each person than an enormous one for all twelve. The logistics of carrying such encumbering equipment made it improbable, trading squad mentality for uniqueness, distance, and speed.
The Krey, bred for war, honed and defined by their skills, had never force-marched over great distances. This attempt tested future possibilities. While the Krey¡¯s athletic physique was perfected from hours spent farming or enhancing their talents, an unfamiliar soreness burrowed deep in their muscles from the leagues covered every day.
Raven, the do-don of Void-Walker squad, looked over his members with a critical eye. Two members claimed veteran status from the Wizard¡¯s War, Patch and Two-Tons, both of which were older than him by at least an age. His replacement, should he fall, Xenomene; and the rest of his virgin squad¡ªthose bloodless in battle¡ªDrumstick, Keg, Bitcher, Mauler, Tiny, and Wrath. Three A¡¯uri accompanied them: the Hand, Heart, and Mind. He didn¡¯t know their names, but the acquainted title of Hand, Heart, and Mind, defined their job descriptions, and every squad boasted their own A¡¯uri.
Raven stepped closer to the fire, extending his hands out for warmth while the Krey lounged about leisurely. He couldn¡¯t blame them for unburdening themselves, being as tired as he felt. His eyes roamed over those under his command, questions in their eyes.
¡°Oi! Are you going to tell us what we¡¯re doing now?¡± Two-Tons called.
¡°He ain¡¯t ever going to tell us, Double-T,¡± Bitcher responded. ¡°That¡¯s not the way politics work. You bust your ass for him, and he gives you a promising smile, but says nothing.¡±
¡°For once,¡± Tiny, the largest of all Krey men, spoke up, ¡°try not to live up to your name, Bitcher.¡±
¡°Do they call you Tiny because you got a small dick,¡± Bitcher sneered, ¡°or a small brain?¡±
¡°We bring any ale?¡± Keg called out. ¡°I haven¡¯t had a drink since we left!¡±
¡°You don¡¯t need any ale, you fucking drunk!¡± Wrath interjected harshly.
¡°Hey Drumstick, are you hoarding all the food over there with Double-T?¡± Mauler taunted. Raven glanced in her direction. One rumor that garnered support implied that Mauler was a descendant of the Toshii, a nomadic tribe from the other side of the Golden Sea. Circulating stories claimed they ate their enemies alive. Her near-obsidian skin gave credence to the gossip, but Raven had never been brave enough to inquire himself. Many Krey hailed from around the world, bringing their cultures and customs with them, but he was pretty sure she was several generations removed from the cannibal tribe. Either way, he didn¡¯t lose sleep over it. Citizens of the Hive became a caldron of cultural diversity, wiping away one civilization and instilling a new way of life with each entering their community. Raven was pretty sure Mauler hadn¡¯t eaten anyone in her life; she was extremely young when the bloodlust manifested in her, but the thought was unnerving regardless.
¡°I can¡¯t help it if I love my food, and you¡¯re not fast enough to get it from me,¡± Drumstick countered, continuing the banter.
¡°Enough!¡± Raven barked. Laughs and further comments stifled, and he continued. ¡°There isn¡¯t any ale until we get to where we are going. Drumstick, you¡¯re on rations just like everyone else. We¡¯ll try to resupply when we can. Bitcher, for once in your life, don¡¯t live up to your fucking name as Tiny said. As far as Tiny¡¯s pecker, from what I¡¯ve heard, it rivals a garden spade, and I sympathize for Xenomene if she finds herself under him.¡±
The men cackled and hooted at the jest. Xenomene, hearing her name, glanced in their direction with a blank expression, disinclined to comment. She sat off by herself as she usually did, gracing the edges of firelight, a good half dozen paces away. Her aversion to intermingling with her comrades was a well-known trait she employed during their trip. Raven hoped to change this during their journey. Returning her attention to her hands, she continued sharpening her dagger, dragging it slowly across the grating whetstone.
¡°Would you care to join us, Miss Brooder?¡±
¡°Not really,¡± she countered, her voice soft.
¡°What¡¯s her problem?¡± Two-Tons complained.
¡°Her tit-strap is cinched too tight!¡± Bitcher chortled.
¡°Do it, anyways.¡± Raven ordered Xenomene, ignoring the other two.
With a dramatic and sarcastic sigh, she took two steps forward and dumped herself unceremoniously on the ground. Instead of pressing the matter, Raven let it drop and brought his attention back to everyone. Even the A¡¯uri hovered at the edges of the fire, listening.
¡°To answer your question earlier, Two-Tons, yes, I¡¯m going to tell you what we¡¯re doing, where we¡¯re going, and why. I was under orders not to tell you until well away from the Hive. If word got out of what we planned, it¡¯d be bad for everyone.¡±
¡°Bad? Bad as in we have to march all the way back, or bad as in you¡¯ve got diarrhea while marching back?¡± Bitcher queried. A few sniggers rose around the fire. The do-don rolled his eyes.
¡°As in a declaration of war,¡± Raven said, scowling. ¡°We¡¯re to proceed to Cape Gythmel with all haste, traveling by foot across the countryside and avoiding towns, people, or establishments at all costs unless to resupply. Contingent upon resupply, two of the A¡¯uri are to go into town and replenish our provisions. Questions thus far?¡±
¡°Oi! I got one,¡± Bitcher said. ¡°Why in the hell are we going to a cesspit like Cape Gythmel? I mean, there ain¡¯t nothing there besides pig shit, horse shit, whore¡¯s shit, and farmer¡¯s shit. It¡¯s a lot of shit!¡±
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¡°Thank you for articulating the various reasons why that locale isn¡¯t anyone¡¯s preferred haven, Bitcher. If asked, we¡¯re there to assess the town and its lack of defenses, gather needed supplies, and commence to affecting fortifications to the best of our abilities. Probably a trial and error method.¡±
¡°Defense?¡± Mauler interrupted. ¡°Fuck that! We¡¯re offense.¡±
¡°Aye, we take the war to the enemy, not sit on our asses like the Grand Royal Army,¡± Tiny concurred.
¡°What the hell do any of you know about war?¡± Raven countered. ¡°The only veterans here besides myself are Patch and Two-Tons. None of you have seen war, and most of you have never taken a life.¡±
A poignant silence fell over the Krey, but he could see the unrest in their eyes. They¡¯d grown accustomed to life in Outpost Dire, training, drinking, eating, fighting, and fucking. Angst and malaise rippled through those under his command, balking at the simplistic yet mind numbing task of marching. Raven didn¡¯t know how long it¡¯d last, or if it would get better or worse. How many more days until it turned from vexation and dissatisfaction to open sedition?
¡°Since that¡¯s our official story, then what are we really doing there?¡± Xenomene asked, breaking the silence.
¡°Nice of you to join us, Xeno; our real campaign will be making defenses due to an imminent threat of Xilor and an army he¡¯llassemble.¡±
The camp burst into pandemonium as conversations erupted, most negative. Shouted interjections and raised voices carried their incoherent words to the ears of Raven, noting the reactions of his subordinates. The virgins were up on their feet, gesturing and posturing with aggressive body language. His veterans sat upon the ground watching the young members, but their composed faces held scorn as they entered the debate from the ground. Xeno, the next in line for do-don, still sharpened her dagger, unaffected by the upheaval around her.
At least one person will keep their cool when the battle is upon us.
Xeno rose to her feet, the movement fluid, sheathing her blade. Her sudden motion caught the attention of everyone quicker than if she yelled. Contemptuous glares not intended for her shifted, conversations ceased for a brief moment, forgotten by the new disturbance.
¡°It doesn¡¯t matter why we are building defenses,¡± she began. ¡°Xilor could bring an army. Dragons could come back in greater numbers. A flock of geese with fiery shit could swoop in to attack; it doesn¡¯t change the fact that defenses are needed. We¡¯ve been tasked by the Heir¡ªagainst standing law, I remind you¡ªand he has mobilized us. The Heir¡¯s willing to risk all-out war and retaliation from Ralloc, so it must be important. That¡¯s good enough for me, and it should be for you, too.¡± She gathered her sleeping roll. ¡°I¡¯m getting some sleep, so keep the noise level down. And I suggest you do the same; we¡¯re marching tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that for the next two moon turns.¡±
With reluctance, the Krey dispersed from their zones of engagement, with arguments abandoned, retreating to their bedding areas or to the fire to claim their respective pots. Some finished their food while others picked at armor and gear. Raven watched them reverting to their devices and spied Xenomene from a distance, grateful for her interjection. In one stroke, she¡¯d turned them away from fighting each other over points of view and told them what they needed to know, not what they wanted to hear.
We must work on your people skills, Xeno, Raven thought. You have a commanding presence, but you need to show more of your compassion if people are to follow you into death¡¯s embrace.
Raven picked his way to his area, freeing his sleeping roll from the lashes of his pack. He sensed a presence hovering and glanced up to see a graying Patch. The do-don spoke as he unrolled his blankets. ¡°Something on your mind?¡±
¡°Oh, aye, you could say that.¡±
¡°Feel free to speak and save me the breath of asking questions.¡±
¡°It¡¯s about when you die,¡± Patch said, his voice grave. Raven suppressed a tightlipped smile. Patch said when and not if; the Krey knew their lot in life, born to die, first into battles they habitually failed to return from.
¡°You want to know if you are taking over?¡± Raven surmised. The other nodded. Finished unrolling his blankets, Raven sat down, leaning against his pack and motioned for the other to do the same. With an audible sigh, Patch sat down. ¡°You won¡¯t be taking over,¡± Raven said gently. ¡°Orders from the heir.¡±
¡°What the hell¡¯s Daniel thinking?¡± Patch said, sullen.
¡°The heir is thinking of resuming the old ways; the strongest will lead.¡±
Patch grunted. ¡°You think she¡¯s strong?¡± he asked, nodding his head in the direction of Xenomene.
The other shrugged. ¡°She¡¯s done nothing to make me think otherwise. The only reason she isn¡¯t leading now is that she¡¯s a virgin. The heir believes a war will break out, and if it does, that will be remedied rather quickly, don¡¯t you think?¡±
¡°She has no experience leading.¡±
¡°True, but point out one man that wouldn¡¯t be willing to follow her, and I¡¯m not talking about the repercussions of disobedience.¡±
¡°What do you mean?¡± the older Krey inquired.
Raven smiled, fingernails digging deep into his black hair, scratching his scalp. ¡°Look at them. Furtive glances, their ability to shut up when she talks. They all want to bed her and give her no cause to disregard them. For that hope alone, they¡¯ll follow her.¡±
¡°Wanting to fuck the bitch doesn¡¯t inspire loyalty or faith. Besides, she¡¯s not the only female with us. There¡¯s Mauler and the Heart.¡±
¡°Yes, but A¡¯uri are mysterious, and they¡¯re probably too worried that Mauler would eat them.¡± Raven chuckled. ¡°You¡¯re right, wanting to bed her doesn¡¯t inspire loyalty or faith but instills hope, and with that false hope, it¡¯ll buy her time for the other two. Given the chance, she¡¯ll do well.¡±
¡°If you say so,¡± Patch grunted, his fingers rubbing his chin.
¡°Trust me,¡± Raven smiled. ¡°A little grooming, and she¡¯ll make a fine leader, and her skill with the sword will only help her rise through the ranks. Who knows, maybe one day, we¡¯ll have our first female heir.¡±
Patch scoffed as he got to his feet. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s about as likely as dragons attacking Outpost Dire or the Forgotten Isles joining Ralloc¡¯s domain. Shit, Apor and Praema are more likely to rise in the south and set in the north. It just ain¡¯t gonna happen.¡±
The older man moved away, and the do-don called to him. ¡°Patch? The suns do rise in the south on the other side of Ermaeyth.¡±
Patch rolled his eyes and sauntered off to his pallet. Raven watched him go. He empathized with his old colleague. Times enforced change, an inevitable eventuality. The Wizard¡¯s War, both his and Patch¡¯s glory days became a figment of the past, glimpsed, discarded, and passed off as tall tales. The Krey had changed, too. In many ways, advancing more than Ralloc¡¯s pretentious, tradition-riveted society, and in other manners they returned to their old ways. Raven smiled, admiring the perfect blend.
Giving his squad one last look as they clambered into their sleeping rolls, he nestled into his blankets, too. His eyes tracked over to Xenomene, her diminutive form suffused in her blankets. A small tress of dark red hair escaped beneath the opening.
Sighing, he closed his eyes and tried not to think of the long march that lay ahead and hoped he wasn¡¯t on the twisted trail of folly.
Chapter 31: Ralloc Domain
Daniel walked alone, stumbling drunk through the streets of Ralloc, searching for a specific establishment that came highly recommended. While he made his way there, his thoughts were never far from Meristal.
Every time he laid eyes on her, an overwhelming need to slap her arose, to tell her to wake up. Why couldn¡¯t Meristal comprehend that he loved her? He could offer more to life than what she settled for! What did she see in Daniel that repulsed her? Why did she pine for Warlock Lakayre when he¡¯d take her, damaged goods and all? Daniel shook his head in disgust and spat.
The Heir of Valin rarely made it to Ralloc, but when he did, he loved to have a good time. Visiting Ralloc brought the promise of pleasure, the claws of his vices burrowed deep. It was one thing to party with your brothers of the sword, the Krey, and you could fuck the hell out of your sisters of the bade, but it just wasn¡¯t the same as Ralloc.
Daniel had a specific taste in women, and no one matched it at House Eti, save one. He remembered when he laid eyes on Xenomene for the first time; his loins ached at first glimpse. But she was too young, and why would she want Daniel, a man old enough to be her much older brother and possibly father? Still, her taut young flesh ¡ but she had an innocent aura to her, and Daniel didn¡¯t want to be the one to corrupt her.
He entered the establishment he was looking for: The Gentle Touch. He stumbled in, nearly running into a bearded man clothed in fine silk robes of deep green, brown, and gray. The man smiled at him. ¡°Welcome to Lord Brenton¡¯s The Gentle Touch, how may we serve you this evening?¡±
Bleary eyed, Daniel blurted, ¡°Redhead.¡±
¡°We have plenty of red-haired females for you to select from this evening, what¡¯s your select specialty?¡±
Confusion rippled across Daniel¡¯s inebriated face. ¡°What the fuck are you talking about, man? Where are the girls?¡±
¡°Would you like to view the girls before selecting your specialty?¡±
¡°Of course, man!¡± Daniel belched, then swayed.
¡°Follow me, sire,¡± The host led him up the stairs and through a locked door. Beyond opened into a foyer. Red-haired girls of all ages and types lounged there, all half-clothed, only covering their breasts and their groin. Daniel¡¯s eyes went wide, gasping as he beheld women of every size: wide, thin, large and small breasts with variations in between, some with red pubic hair as they flashed him, others with black, some lacked hair altogether. He saw a rainbow of eye colors: green, blue, brown, gray, but he didn¡¯t see lilac or amethyst.
None like Meristal¡¯s.
¡°Find anything to your satisfaction, sire?¡±
Oh yeah! He nodded emphatically.
¡°Which specialty would you like?¡±
¡°What¡¯s this specialty you are talking about?¡±
¡°All our girls possess skills in the fine arts of love making from all known cultures. However, each girl has a unique skill they¡¯re better suited to than others and are often hired for such skills.¡± The host clapped his hands, and the girls moved off into groups. ¡°These girls,¡± he said, pointing to the left, ¡°their specialty is oral stimulation. The girls to the middle achieve multiple orgasms with the slightest touch. These girls have superb massaging skills. These girls to the right are from the Isles. The girls over by the wall are skilled in prolonging your orgasm to last for minutes rather than seconds and hail from Cronele. Another selection of girls can be made available with other skills if you do not find one to your liking. Which would you prefer?¡±
¡°How much?¡±
¡°Four hundred scepters for a girl of no formal skill, six hundred for a specialized companion.¡±
¡°Shades, you¡¯re expensive! How long do I get to play?¡±
¡°Until dawn,¡± the host supplied. ¡°The price is because we cater to the elite.¡±
¡°I¡¯ll take three specialized girls,¡± Daniel said, handing the host an ingot¡ªan ingot was worth six thousand scepters. The host¡¯s eyes went wide as he grasped the ingot.
¡°I want an oral girl, a girl with good fingers, and a girl to prolong my orgasm,¡± he said.
¡°Since you are paying for more than two, we¡¯ll throw in an extra girl. Let¡¯s say a girl from the Isles, if you like, sire.¡±
¡°Sure, fuck it, why not?¡±
¡°Take your pick of girls, sire.¡±
Daniel sauntered closer and the girls made themselves available to him. After seeing how much money he just gave without batting an eye, they were clambering all over themselves to win his favor. Daniel walked among them looking for each girl that closest resembled Meristal¡¯s face and body type. If he couldn¡¯t have Meristal, he¡¯d fornicate with each of these women as if they were her.
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The long, cold fingers of decay reached out and brushed the Betrayer. He shuddered, acquainted with the Ruins of Sheol, one of the three cursed grounds in Ermaeyth. Here, death lingered in partial metaphysical form. The sheol, creatures of Xilor¡¯s design, born of his machinations, both incorporeal and corporeal planes, remained in a state of animating flux. The Betrayer made the near-impossible journey to the Ruins in five days. The slave-by-fateful-choices breathed a sigh of relief. With another shudder, he put the Ruins to his back and faced the grotesque, small horde of trolls waiting for him to speak.
Xilor instructed him to incite an uprising, stirring the trolls into action, launching an unprovoked attack against a useless colony, a small town barely registering as a fleck on the map. When he called to his master, Xilor rewarded his diligence with his reasoning for the attack. Firstly, it¡¯d start the second Wizard¡¯s War. Secondly, it¡¯d mask the presence of outsiders and their journey across the foreign soil. Xilor didn¡¯tspecify what the outsiders were other than vague hints about creatures who had never set foot on land, wisps of smoke from the Underworld itself. The Betrayer paled, and his stomach fluttered when Xilor commanded his return to Gryzlaud with all due haste once his task was complete. The last bit of ill news he didn¡¯t greet fondly, a command to return to Xilor¡¯s clutches meant only one thing: he neared the end of his quest to return to solid form.
The Betrayer looked out at the assembly, small, squinted eyes regarded him, black as flint. Curving tusks rupturing between engorged lips dripped with saliva. Large, wide nostrils flared with each exhale, their nose hairs dancing like spider legs. A wreaking stench slithered through the air; they hardly smelled better than a slop-infested pig pen. The Betrayer felt diminished and insignificant standing in the presence of such large beasts. Their altitudinous height towered above a tall man, their shoulders easily one and half times his own. Like wizardkind, their skin tone was as diversified, ranging from light green to shades much darker, a sickly gray rivaling granite, and every earthly tone between. He swallowed, stilling the quavering apple of his throat.
As much as he feared them, he feared Xilor more.
With that knowledge, he spoke, orchestrating a weave of words he hoped would do as Xilor commanded. Trolls were not animals as most races pretended, just readily swayed. A charismatic speaker could enthrall them almost to commit mass suicide. Xilor used the analogy of a farm, comparing trolls to the oxen pulling the plow. While the troll population was much larger than the gathered, it was enough to send a message, both to the trolls and to Ralloc. The trolls would side with Xilor in the coming war.
He clambered onto a boulder, speaking from a respectable height, watching their expressions and their rapidly blinking eyes. Shadows hid his face, his hood drawn to obscure his features. The trolls stood rooted, listening to the messenger speaking on behalf of the returning dark lord. The mindless brutes cast their allegiance to the Xilor before, but their loyalty was whimsical at best. Xilor needed to solidify their resolve and have their unwavering dedication for his plans to work. He needed sacrificial pawns in this game, and he¡¯d leave them to die. Ralloc would hunt them down after this atrocity against Wizard¡¯s Pass. It¡¯d be a slaughter. The capital would shift its attention to them, turning their backs to the amassing army under Xilor¡¯s banner.
They had gathered to hear words of hope and inspiration and promises. He swayed them with a speech crafted to bolster morale and mystify them. Though they lived in a land filled with many races, they were the least educated of civilized society, they¡¯d always be captivated by a standard they¡¯d never achieve. The finery of the elyfian, the nobility of wizardkind, the riches of the dwaven, the upper caste of the goblins, all beyond their limited reach. Education and magic eluded them much like the concept of soap and water. What they didn¡¯t understand was that these words spelled their doom, pawns abandoned for Xilor¡¯s calculated ambition.
The Betrayer weaved his spell of influence, and a great roar of eagerness rippled through the massive crowd. Gaping maws opened wide to bellow their admiration. He continued about the rebirth of their master, the injustice inflicted upon them, and the promise of prosperity, unity once they crushed Ralloc beneath their heel. Even oblivious barbarians recognized the sting of oppression. More cheers exploded from the crowd. Some trolls, so overcome by excitement, began to speak amongst themselves in their native tongue¡ªconsisting of grunts and growls¡ªinstead of speaking the principle language of Myshku.
The echoes of their cheers reverberated and the Betrayer perceived the creeping chill of death pour down his spine. A quick glance over his shoulder confirmed his fears; the sheol had congregated behind him, curious at the amassed beings so tantalizingly close. With another shudder, the Betrayer tried to put them out of his mind. With the promise of such rewards on the trolls¡¯ minds, he gave them focus by directing them towards their target, a small settlement. The trolls never balked, never question the logic. It made sense, and they wanted to please their master.
They dispersed, and the sole wizard weaved between them, listening to their conversations. What he could understand confirmed that the trolls would comply with Xilor¡¯s wishes. A smile, not of satisfaction but relief, pulled at the corners of his mouth, knowing he proved his usefulness to the dark lord. He¡¯d live another day, and so would Olga and Miza, wards in Xilor¡¯s care. Wading deeper into the press of large bodies, he distanced himself from the sheol.
Guilt gnawed at his insides. He obeyed his master, and in doing so sealed the fates of untold citizens residing in Wizard¡¯s Pass. Personally, he hoped the trolls failed. Xilor couldn¡¯t fault him for that, but he still endured the shame from the reprehensible act. He delivered others, innocent and unsuspecting people, so that he might live.
Excitement raced through the crowd; a chant started up, massive fists pumping the air. They called out Xilor¡¯s name, igniting a frenzy. The chant carried out into the night, swelling in volume. The Betrayer picked his way carefully through the trolls, dodging the massive beings as they jostled each other. Trampled to death wasn¡¯t the way he wanted to go.
A cringe of disgust rose from his stomach and settled on his face, less to do with their scent and more with being the dark lord¡¯s pawn, forever bound to do his will. But what could he do? He needed to find a way out the mess he allowed himself to get into. If he did, a much harder task lay before him: learning to forgive himself, if such a thing were possible. Forgiveness was something he didn¡¯t warrant, he knew. He¡¯d go to his grave at the end of his life filled with remorse and angst, however long that turned out to be.
There was nothing left here for him, his task complete. With a sigh of relief and trepidation, he set out for Gryzlaud Palace.
Chapter 32: Mr Pleasure
¡°Wake up!¡± the craggy voice roared, and she tensed, knowing the slap was coming. The fat man didn¡¯t disappoint. Though ready for the strike, it didn¡¯t stop stars exploding in her vision. ¡°My name is Mr. Pleasure.¡±
She ached, a weariness settling in her bones. How many times had she heard that line? The swallowing darkness was her only absolution, but it was short lived. Countless times she witnessed him introducing himself; the numerous tally eluded her. What did it matter? Caring was the least of her worries. In fact, she couldn¡¯t remember where she was or why he was doing this to her. Only a fog lingered; she couldn¡¯t recall anything other than his obesity.
¡°You shall call me by no other name than Mr. Pleasure,¡± he continued their ritual. ¡°Should you call me anything but my name, I will cut your head off with my knife.¡±
She almost called him fat at that moment, to skip the misery and go straight to the death where she could escape; but there was something different today. Many other men filled the room. Gruesome, grotesque brutes, some with missing teeth or limbs, puss congealed from open sores or boils covering their bodies. These men were more like parasites from the farthest depths of a cesspool. Were they even alive?
¡°Who are they, Mr. Pleasure? What are they doing here?¡± Her mind strained to comprehend something new.
¡°Why, they¡¯re here to have fun with you. Since torture¡¯s no longer affecting you as it once did, and you aren¡¯t breaking like when we first started, you¡¯ll learn a new kind of pain: humiliation.¡±
¡°Something new? A new kind of pain?¡± she murmured. Her bloodshot eyes burned and drooped, but worry leeched the drowsiness. She didn¡¯t like anything new; she counted on Mr. Pleasure being the same, but she realized if she showed her vexation to her custodian, he¡¯d seize control and never let go. Her mind haltingly turned out possibilities as to how this new scenario would end. None of her conclusions brought warm feelings. With alacrity, she tried to change tactics, hoping to throw him off the scent of her fear.
¡°Interesting¡ªI must confess you were starting to bore me numb with your grotesque overtures. I can take anything you give to me. Aren¡¯t you worried that I¡¯ll enjoy this new pain, Mr. Pleasure? Aren¡¯t you distraught it¡¯ll give me a reprieve from your usual? What¡¯s the worst you can do to me? They look hungry. Are they going to eat me alive? You¡¯re going to have to do better than that!¡± A horrified curiosity rippled through her, her breath caught in her lungs, wondering what he might say.
¡°You wouldn¡¯t get any satisfaction from this,¡± he said, grinning maliciously. ¡°No, no, a reprieve wouldn¡¯t do you any good. Have you ever had something taken from you? Rape will break you. When you¡¯re tied down and ravaged by men such as these,¡± he gestured to the gathered, ¡°that¡¯ll be the breech I need. They¡¯ll do as they please; I shall not hinder their sinister impulses. And then,¡± he promised darkly, a rasping whisper, ¡°we can go back to just you and me, girlie.¡± He motioned them forward.
A newfound panic exploded within her mind and sent her heart fluttering like the wings of a hummingbird. Her chest rumbled like distant thunder. In the hysteria, the fog she had been living in rolled away. Everything came into focus, sharp and vivid. Her imagination gushed with sequences, each coming within fractions of a second and dismissed, discarded, or improved on accordingly. Julie glimpsed a table with straps behind the gaggle of men moving forward, and she knew where she¡¯d end up. This moment was her chance to break out; who knew when she would have another opportunity? The alternative was to let all these men inside her, to let them ravage her and humiliate her.
No!
Her mind recoiled at the thought. She wouldn¡¯t let them, would rather face obliteration if she couldn¡¯t escape, whether it was a true death or another false postponement.
They removed the restraints on her chair and snatched her up faster than she could react, dragging her to the table near the hearth. Weapons clattered to the floor, flung in haste, before slamming her down. Hands groped her, pulling on her robes, cupping her breast, snaking hands spread her legs. The fabric tore away with ease, a deft tug removed her undergarments. Hands pressed her down, chest to the table. Gnarled fingers clamped around her arms as they stretched her towards the leather straps. Drool leaked out of toothless, rotting mouths as they held her down, bending her painfully over the unfinished, splintered edge.
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A cold, clammy hand moved her robes, an oily sensation caressing her divested flesh. A presence hovered behind her, waiting for them to latch her down. Spindly fingers trickled down her legs, attempting to tie her ankles to the table. The man behind her kicked her feet wider, making it easier to bind her with leather straps, making her more accessible and helpless. A scuffle broke out behind her as to who would get first honors. Even the men trying to fasten her arms down lost themselves in the excitement as a shoving match ensued.
Her moment arrived.
Fury, terror, and panic swept through her, and she pushed out with her magic, exploding into action. The blast was powerful enough to knock down all the men; even Mr. Pleasure fell to a knee. Not worrying about modesty, she left the tattered remains of her clothes behind, her stark bottom visible through the thin inner robe.
Moving as quickly as she could, she darted between the fallen men. From the many days or weeks she had been sitting in that chair, slowly dying, she realized her extraction would be slow and weak. She didn¡¯t have to be fast, just faster than them. With strength she didn¡¯t expect, she threw off the last man that tried to hold her ankle as she scrambled to the door. His snagging hand slowed her down just enough for others attempting to latch on to her disrobed extremities. Julie shoved and clawed her way past them, sending a swift kick to the groin of one man who managed to rise to his knees, and an elbow to the face of another.
She bolted for the door and flung it open, racing down a stone hallway, grabbing suits of armor and ripping them down behind her to impede her pursuers. Her bare feet slapped the cold, rock floor. A thick coat of grime clung to the soles of her feet. She heaved a door ajar and slammed it with a resounding rattle behind her. In haste, she scanned the new room for any weapons, spying a stand of swords. Grabbing one, Julie forced it through the handle of the door, wedging it shut, before drawing out another. On the other side of the room stood another door, and she rushed heedlessly through it¡ªonly to find herself back in the room she had started in. The bald man with his bulging skin and broad grin.
¡°Did you really think you were going to get away?¡± he nagged.
Exasperation coursed through Julie. Was there no hope?
¡°I knew I¡¯d hit a nerve in you when you bolted for the door. That¡¯s the best response I¡¯ve received out of you since the first session. I¡¯llhave to tuck that away for later use.¡± He leered at her and cracked his knuckles, closing the distance between them. He jerked his head to the side, his neck cracking. ¡°You¡¯re going to pay for trying to escape.¡± He reached for her. The blade flashed between them.
Hot blood splashed her face as a chilling scream erupted from the fat man. Without thought, she lashed out again, his arm flying away from his body and landing on the floor. Without caring, without stopping, Julie turned and dashed back through the door, down the stone hallway, past all the suits she¡¯d thrown, beyond the first door she¡¯d gone through, and entered through the next. The door boomed shut.
¡°Wrong again, bitch!¡± Mr. Pleasure¡¯s voice rang out. He stood before her with both arms attached, a malicious grin smearing his sweaty face, holding the same blade he used to cut her tongue. He charged quicker than expected, and a haphazard swing sent the sword through his leg. The attack sapped her remaining strength. He toppled to the floor, screaming. With languid limbs, she backed away, exiting the door she entered, hoping it¡¯d take her back to the hallway.
Luck was with her as she crashed down the passageway, her tilt erratic and uncontrolled, leaping over the armor and dashing past doors. She rounded a corner and darted down another stretch of cool, coarse stonework, seeking as much distance as she could before ducking into another room.
An abrupt and startling malady jolted her body, starting with the ache in her head and the cold suckling her flesh. Mr. Pleasure loomed before her, his voice washing through her. ¡°I got you, don¡¯t I?¡± he growled. With a solid grasp on her hair, he pulled her up to her feet, slamming her against the door.
The torture room flashed briefly in her vision, his knife glinting, and the clumsy pressure registered as it furrowed her throat. Blood spilled out, running down her breasts and over her stomach. Obscurity took her away from the warmth and into an atramentous void.
Chapter 33: Mr Pleasure
¡°Wake up!¡± Agony and a wash of spots flourished in her vision. She blinked them away, waking.
A ghost of trepidation entered her mind, knowing she should¡¯ve tensed, but the willpower evaded her. Julie scarcely mustered the strength to raise her head, to breathe, her mind numb from enduring the sufferance and torture. She couldn¡¯t remember a time before this room, this chair, or Mr. Pleasure.
Through the fog of misery, in the undiscovered reaches of her mind, she tried to recall who she was. At the core of her soul, she sensed what he represented, some morbid part of her psyche lashing out in punishment for her weakness, her defective qualities. Her face stung. She didn¡¯t care if he permanently disfigured her with abusive slaps. All sense of self vanished; her identity, her name, all figments aloof. The only part of her that refused to fade was the silent animosity.
Her mind railed against the abuse she received, breaking apart and fortifying, saving herself from his torture. She rarely felt his inflictions anymore. Only the mind numbing question tumbled in her head: Who am I?
In the seldom moments of clarity, she recalled a time before, like a fevered dream, the vague impressions repressed. Another life, another time. In the flicker of flashing images, she recalled magic and the violent aftermath. Without the sense of passing time, the burden of recollecting the memories in the correct sequence eluded her, but she noticed that Mr. Pleasure¡¯s cruelty enhanced after she rallied to discharge herself. In the backlash of her actions, the pain increased exponentially. That much she could recall.
A part of her ached to know how she¡¯d fallen into Mr. Pleasure¡¯s clutches. When she reached out for the elusive memories, they recoiled and skittered away, never answering when she needed them.
But the voice did.
The voice simmered, demanded justice, revenge; each time the voice visited, the desirous sense of empowerment washed over her, promising aid to escape. The voice waited patiently to take over; the eagerness was palpable, poised for the proper moment to strike. She was horrified to learn it was her voice. Caged, locked away, a side of her seethed with malevolence. The malignity suffused her, its claws digging deep.
Escape-less.
A man¡¯s face loomed in her mind, and the pernicious voice recoiled, fled to the dark recesses of her mind. Details about who the man was bilked her, but she could examine every line with resolute clarity. His eyes were kind, wise, and azure, soothing during times of greatest angst. Each visit, the blue eyes brought her a measure of peace. Safety washed over her every time she gazed at him. Above his eyes, his hair parted down the middle and cascaded down, nearly touching his shoulders. A neatly trimmed goatee hugged his fatherly smile.
¡°My name is Mr. Pleasure,¡± the droning voice interrupted her thoughts. She didn¡¯t care anymore, couldn¡¯t he understand that? ¡°You shall call me by no other name than Mr. Pleasure. If you call me by that name, I¡¯ll release you.¡±
She blinked. A spell of time trickled by as the words gestated. Her heart beat faster, the words sinking in. She desperately desired what he promised.
Freedom.
Giddiness flourished through her like a rampant contagion.
Hope.
It must be a trick!
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Her languid cognitive abilities tried to ferret out the ruse. Julie¡¯s stoic exterior belied her inner turmoil. Desperation gnawed at her insides, but she didn¡¯t want him to notice how badly she wished to leave, giving him no cause to detain her further.
¡°Mr. Pleasure,¡± she said, her voice quaking. The tremor in her voice wasn¡¯t of fear but acrimony, the bringer of silent fury. The voice in her head tensed, the moment at hand.
He smiled, leering at her as he lumbered forward, bending to untie the straps holding her. ¡°You may go.¡± His smile never faltered.
Cautiously, she stood, wary of any trap he might spring. Her legs shook to hold her upright. He made no move to impede her halting steps. When she reached the door, she paused, looking back with a mixture of anguish and mistrust. The malicious smile lingered as he folded his arms across his chest.
Somewhere within her core, she snapped, the voice taking command. With a renewed strength, she stormed towards him, snatching up a sword from his table as she closed the distance. She swung with all her might, cleaving his right arm at the shoulder. He didn¡¯t fight her, nor did he scream; he stood resolutely, the smile never fading.
The smile.
The all-knowing smile that held her darkest secrets, the times she broke and cried, when he defiled her. The grin mirrored that of a guilty man who knew he¡¯d walk free, unmolested. And her rage hated him for it.
She hacked at him, the blade swinging with all her might behind it until there was nothing left of him but pieces on the floor, broken like a porcelain doll. Her chest heaved, her hair a tangled mop around her face. Sweat trickled like tear streaks. Pausing, she gazed at the remains, but she could still see the smile.
It wasn¡¯t enough, not after what he had done to her.
It¡¯ll never be enough!
She hacked at the pieces¡ªhis arms, legs, and face. Deep gashes appeared in the floor as sparks flew from her relentless swings. The sword, riddled with nicks, snapped during one of her overhead swings. She screamed out as she relived all the horrors he inflicted.
Still, it paled in the wake of his atrocities.
She scooped up the pieces, dashing between the broken shards and the fire, tossing them into the flames, watching them burn. When the last fragments were safely blazing, she collapsed to her knees, unable to contain the torment a moment longer. Tears of anguish rolled freely down her face, and her shoulders heaved.
A hand fell on her shoulder.
She gasped, her tears stifled. Resignation coursed through her. She wanted to die.
¡°Kill me,¡± she breathed.
Not bothering to look at the hand, her sobs surged anew, harder than before. Her lungs burned, her weeping refused to let her breathe. She should¡¯ve known this was a trick, a ploy to get her hopes up. It worked. Julie let the other side of her out, the portion controlled by the voice, and missed her opportunity to escape.
The hand was soft and warm against her skin, the rags of her robes allowing for the flesh on flesh touch. The gesture was comforting, the antithesis of Mr. Pleasure.
Slowly, she tilted her head and saw the face she vaguely recollected: the man who had made the voice go away. He smiled at her¡ªa sad smile, no doubt, but a smile nonetheless.
¡°Come, Julie,¡± he urged gently, his hands holding hers, pulling her smoothly off the floor.
Julie. That¡¯s my name! She remembered that now.
¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± he beckoned, his voice ennoble.
The seething voice vanished in his presence. The barriers that blocked her mind crumbled, and the wave of flashbacks came crashing in, retaining everything.
He held her as she sobbed. After suffering all the vile things she had, she¡¯d never be the same. She shivered in his embrace, crying with relief and joy and sorrow. Her heart fractured beyond reformation. Memories returned, both real and fanciful, the walls of the room she¡¯d come to know faded away. They stood just under the doorway, the threshold she once entered, and as Judas hugged her, her eyes climbed upward until they fell on the words etched in the bark.
Here Madness Dwells.
Chapter 34: The Corridor of Cruelty
¡°Do you want to talk about what happened?¡± Judas offered, his voice gentle. She sobbed in his arms as he offered words of comfort, the silence between them only punctuated by her sobs. After a time, trembling with exhaustion, he carried her away from the doorway, away from Mr. Pleasure and the vile memories. Judas called upon magic to rejuvenate her, and she felt better. She¡¯d either been unable to move or unwilling, so the burden fell to him. Through the journey, she cried on his shoulder, shaking with exhaustion. Once he came to a clearing, he called upon his essence, unrolling her sleeping blankets, and placed her gently within the folds. Julie curled up, her back to him as he shuffled off to start a fire and supper.
The pot simmered, and the fire crackled and spat. The aroma of potatoes, carrots, and beef wafted through the air. Julie heard his stomach gurgle, and hers did, too. The scent filled the evening air, driving away the despair suffocating her. On the morning she went through the doorway, the thick slug he cooked was heavenly compared to the stench of her captor¡¯s dungeon. Without realizing it, she hadn¡¯t eaten anything since she went through the doorway.
How long ago was that?
She tried to ignore the phantoms of the fat man but failed. After everything she went through, her thoughts kept returning to what he said the first time she awoke in his dungeon, the one moment of truth. No one would ever know how grateful she was for her life, and she vowed never to be so weak that it could be taken from her. She vividly remembered his warning: ¡°If you survive, you¡¯ll appreciate the pain of other things¡ªthe things of the world¡ªand they¡¯re nothing compared to what I¡¯m going to do to you. In that, you may find comfort, for your life will be painless compared to this.¡±
Anguish washed through her, realizing the veracity of his statements. Though a monster, psychotic, his honesty made him more forthright than Judas had ever been. Her master was supposed to protect her, a solemn vow when he pulled her into this world, and he failed.
Utterly.
¡°How many times?¡± Her shaky whisper shattered the brittle silence. The rest of the sentence went unvoiced. Rolling to her back, she scrutinized Judas, recognizing it pained him to tell her how many times she died.
¡°Thirty-eight times,¡± he finally said. The fire hissed in the stretching silence between them. ¡°I¡¯ve never heard of anyone going that many times without succumbing to madness. I died eleven times before I figured it out. But that was a long time ago¡¡±
¡°You possessed training.¡± A child commanded more discipline than her; she was just beginning to tap into her abilities. There was so much she didn¡¯t know, and Judas was less than forthcoming with instruction. Julie saw guilt dance across his face, his azure eyes full of sorrow and compassion.
¡°You don¡¯t realize how sorry I am,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s my fault for dragging you through the Corridor. We should¡¯ve circumvented it or, at least, I should¡¯ve taken the lead. I should¡¯ve protected you!¡± he said, his eyes watering.
¡°Yes, you should have. But you didn¡¯t!¡± she snapped, her dander rising. ¡°Where the fuck were you when I needed you?¡±
Ire flashed in his eyes at her cursing, but he let it go. Wise of him. She had the right to be angry and mentioning it would only make it worse. ¡°As helpless as you,¡± he countered softly. ¡°While you were detained, Ms. Pleasure ensnared me.¡±
Julie¡¯s face paled. ¡°There are two of them?¡±
¡°She made me watch your torture,¡± he explained, his voice bitter. ¡°The hardest thing I¡¯ve ever done, and I never want to do it again. You have no idea the unfathomable remorse I harbor for not being there. I can never forgive myself.¡±
Judas had failed her. He¡¯d said before the Corridor remained silent to him, having mastered its cruelties. Had that been a lie? An idle boast? Or did he tell the truth, his helplessness equivalent to hers? With a tender stretch, she called her essence. Her magic responded instantly, and she reached out, sensing Judas emotions. He spoke the truth; she discerned his guilt beyond all doubt, but legitimacy didn¡¯t sway the fact that he¡¯d jeopardized her wellbeing. Beneath his sorrow, almost undetectable, interred doubt. Julie couldn¡¯t decipher the focus of his indecision. Uncertainty aside, she found his failure unforgivable.
¡°Why?¡±
¡°Why what?¡± he asked, unable to look her in the eye.
¡°Why rescue me at all, or let it go on for so long?¡± She shot to her feet, bellowing. ¡°Why did he promise to set me free that last time?¡± Anger gushed from her, explosive, powerful. A surge of her essence crackled. ¡°I could¡¯ve gone insane from what he did to me! Have you no remorse? Have you no heart!¡± Her head swam, the intoxicating effects of the magic nearly made her sway.
The wrath made her feel unstoppable, therapeutic, as it had in the dungeon.
¡°You didn¡¯t know, did you?¡± he muttered. ¡°You couldn¡¯t remember what I told you.¡± His eyes moved to Julie¡¯s shaking hands, watching her fight for control.
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Her chest heaved. ¡°What are you talking about?¡±
He looked her in the eye. ¡°I told you the Corridor would test you in ways you never thought possible. I warned you, blatantly, but you didn¡¯t remember. I hoped that after a few times, you¡¯d remember.¡± He shook his head in sorrow, burying his face in his hands. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry,¡± he whispered.
¡°What the fuck are you talking about?¡± she yelled. ¡°I don¡¯t give a shit that you¡¯re sorry; sorry doesn¡¯t help me! What about the rods jammed into my fingers? The skin flayed from my arms? I¡¯ll live with those images for the rest of my life! You warned me? Blatantly? Obviously, it wasn¡¯t enough because I didn¡¯t get it!¡±
Her head hurt, a dull ache rising with each heartbeat into a pulsing throb. The pain spread from her temples and came to rest behind her eyes.
¡°The warning I gave you,¡± Judas intoned faintly. ¡°You asked if there was anything that could destroy you and I said, ¡®No, it can¡¯tdestroy your body; but if you let it get in your mind, you¡¯ll shatter like glass. Magic is in the power of the mind as is this place.¡¯ I also said, ¡®The most important advice I could give you is to believe what your soul tells you about this place, not your eyes. This place is all about the power of your mind and your ability to see through the perceived realities and lies.¡¯ I figured you¡¯d see through the perceived reality.¡±
¡°That¡¯s just asinine!¡± she screamed. Despite her hunger and her coursing rage, mental and physical exhaustion overcame her. Even though her displeasure focused on Judas, she noticed his honesty. He hadn¡¯t held anything back. Mr. Pleasure¡¯s proverb returned, even though hurt by her master¡¯s failure, it was insubstantial to what she suffered.
Leaving supper and the argument behind, she returned to her blankets, curling up with her back to Judas and the fire. With her face away, she let the silent tears come, both of sorrow and relief. Her entire journey shook the fragile faith she placed in her master, rending whatever bond they tried to establish.
She desperately yearned to belong, to be a part of something greater than herself. Judas opened the door of possibilities, attempted to guide and protect her; the latter proved counterproductive, if not almost fatal. A wedge manifested in their relationship. She thought she¡¯dfound purpose with him, but now, she saw her flawed belief. She still loved aspects of him, his genteel nature, his gentle, guiding hand. Perhaps love was too strong of a word. But he filled the role of a father because gods only knew what happened to her real parents. Is it possible to care for someone and not trust them? She distinguished the difference between loving someone and hating what they do. Again, in silence, she envied his children. Despite his faults, he was a great man, her cornerstone, mentor, friend.
Her master.
A master¡¯s role delicately balanced between being a guide through murky, untested waters, and as a protector against enemies that lurked beyond her vision. He failed at what it meant to be a master, leaving her defenseless. Julie lacked power and the cognitive faculties to deal with the abhorrent tribulations here. What lay beyond this tiny strip of land straddling the Abyss? What new horror would rise from the darkness?
Fatigue overcame her, and she courted sleep¡¯s embrace.
Even in her dreams, she couldn¡¯t escape. Judas¡¯s inflicted pain didn¡¯t compare to Mr. Pleasure, but the wound Judas levied rent her soul. The fault didn¡¯t rest with her, and the blame didn¡¯t lean solely on Judas¡¯s shoulders, but she wanted someone to blame, and he proved the easiest scapegoat. The voice hiding in the shadows of her mind blamed Judas, its lambasting brontide in her dreams. The stronger the voice spoke, the more it whittled away her mental barriers. The voice poised and doubt strangulated her, both inescapable.
I don¡¯t belong here. I¡¯m not the one prophesied. Why can¡¯t anyone see it but me?
But Julie couldn¡¯t flee her misgivings or the voice in her dreams. As she slept, the tenebrous voice soothed her with oily words, and Mr. Pleasure¡¯s face plagued her mind, his leering smile hovering close.
Sunrise brought relief, liberated from sneers of guilty pleasures, and none of them hers. Her head throbbed from dehydration. The sun burned strangely bright, and the fire turned to fine ashes. Fresh dew graced the dried earth.
Julie rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Though clothed in fresh robes, the early morning chill warned her to remain in her blankets. Her breath formed a noticeable wisp. She shook her head, her hair splaying about her shoulders. She stifled the yawn as she stood. Judas normally had breakfast prepared, his cheerful voice agitating her, but only silence prevailed. He still slumbered; Judas always rose before her.
She traipsed past the fire pit and nudged him. ¡°Judas,¡± she said quietly. He did not stir. ¡°Judas!¡± she said a little louder, this time shaking him. In the stillness, she eyed him for a moment and realized his chest did not rise. ¡°JUDAS!¡±
She rolled him on his back, his azure eyes open and distant, cloudy and veiled. He stared into the world beyond, the Underworld. His pale skin was cold to the touch. Though she didn¡¯t want to admit it, she knew the truth.
All her repressed emotions crashed against her, a tidal wave breaching the shore. She sobbed and grieved. Knowing that he encroached the autumn years of his life, she hadn¡¯t realized his time was so near. Hot, glistening trails marred her face, cutting rivulets of dirt and dust, droplets smattering her hands and splashing her dead master¡¯s face. She hugged his chest as if their lives intertwined the span of her years, domesticated, familial. She didn¡¯t want to believe.
How could this happen? she thought. He was fine last night. What am I going to do now? I have no guide! I¡¯m not ready.
She wondered if guilt had killed him in his sleep. She stayed there for another minute or an eternity, she couldn¡¯t tell which. What did it matter? How long she stayed, she could never recall.
A hand clutched her shoulder, jarring her out of reverie, and for a moment she thought Mr. Pleasure had come for her again, that it was all a test. In a panic, she spun, flinging the arm off her shoulder, drawing her wand, ready to eviscerate. She pointed her wand at the intruder, only to see ¡ the same man who also lay on the ground.
¡°Get up, child.¡± his stern, urgent voice commanded.
¡°Who are ¡ What ¡ How¡ª?¡±
¡°I said get up!¡± he thundered, his hands shaking her body.
Her eyes snapped open, and the nightmare faded.
Chapter 35: Out of the Corridor
Judas curled up in his blankets. Julie had been asleep for at least an hour. She stirred fitfully. Anguished memories haunted her dreams, and would for some time to come. When he wasn¡¯t worrying about her, his thoughts returned to Ms. Pleasure¡¯s dungeon. He swallowed hard.
Julie¡¯s sharp anger had been biting, her words scathing, and her gaze vehement. She utterly detested him, and he couldn¡¯t blame her. He wished it wasn¡¯t so but wishes never manifested. Julie¡¯s life had been in mortal peril more times than he cared to admit, nearly dying minutes after they met, but to be fair, they were hunting him, not her. Someone attempted her life in Dlad City, leaving her for dead. And now, the Corridor tried to claim her sanity which was just as permanent as death.
The warlock wanted to comfort her, but he realized that¡¯d only drive a wider rift between them. She needed her angst, the only thing she could control. There were occasions when she ranted that Judas took offense to, but he bit back his retorts as to not impair reconciliation between them.
His guilt for dragging her through the Corridor burrowed deep, festering. He should¡¯ve rendered more protection and guidance. She was an infant in magical terms, couldn¡¯t defend herself or discern any part of this enchanting world. The grip of unbelievable remorse pawed at him, and he chastised himself for risking her well-being. If anything happened to her, especially mentally, he¡¯d never forgive himself. The thought of him being responsible for her madness revolted him¡ªif dementia ever took root.
Setting his role of master aside, Judas tried to empathize as a parent. He remembered fond fantasies about watching his child sleep at night, worrying that nothing harrowing befell them, but he never got the chance. He experienced the emotive punch to the gut as he slipped into those shoes once again, pretending for a brief moment that Julie was his daughter. The blame and dishonor intensified. No amount of penitence would ever be enough.
He felt sickened by his actions or lack thereof.
Inexcusable.
Judas, overwhelmed by a torrent of emotions, fervently hoped the mental wounds would heal with time and distance; it was too early to tell. She endured severities at Mr. Pleasure¡¯s hands, scarred for the rest of her life. Eventually, slumber attended the aggrieved warlock.
He awoke to crushing despair, his worst suspicion taking shape. The malevolent glee vibrating through his body wasn¡¯t his own. Xilor was nigh to completing the task he languished to finish. Unfortunately, the Corridor distorted time, and Judas sensed either the aftermath of Xilor¡¯s achievement or a premonition of imminent fruition.
He bolted upright, flinging his blanket aside. Without the aid of his wand, he called upon his essence, the camp tucking neatly away on its own. Hurried steps carried him to Julie¡¯s side, but he faltered as he neared. His brows knitted as he scrutinized her. She spoke in her visiting nightmare. Curiosity nagged at him. He gently stretched out, caressing her subconsciousness, much like he did when she arrived.
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What he saw turned his stomach. She faced another trial. The effects went beyond her waking mind and attacked her in a subconscious state. Judas, unsure how long she experienced the barrage, shook her.
¡°Get up, child!¡±
His vision swam, seeing her corporeal form and the phantasm simultaneously. She floundered, wanting to stay in the delusion, enduring the torture.
¡°I said get up!¡± he shouted, shaking her.
Her eyes snapped open, her hands holding her forehead. The link between them remained a few heartbeats longer before fading, and the sudden pain she suffered echoed through him, a sharp stab through his forehead. He eased the anguish with the aid of his conjury and soothed Julie¡¯s away.
¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± she said, groggily. ¡°You died¡¡±
¡°Never mind that,¡± he said urgently. ¡°We must leave, now!¡± Tension riddled his posture.
¡°What¡¯s going on?¡±
¡°The Corridor was affecting you while you slept; it¡¯s no longer safe for you to remain. I interrupted whatever it was attempting to do. We must leave now; something¡¯s wrong. Time¡¯s against us, and we must make one more stop before our destination.¡±
¡°How do you know something is wrong? How are we getting out of here?¡± She wiped tears away from her face.
¡°The place is many things,¡± he began, choosing his words carefully but delivering them in a rush. ¡°Two parts of a whole, a testing ground and also a focal point. When something of great magnitude happens in the world, it may not be perceived by those that are close by, but here, strong surges reverberate within the Corridor. Though time bends differently for us here than those on the outside, something¡¯s happening now, as we speak, or may have already happened, or soon will. Whichever the case, it¡¯s throwing the chaotic harmony of the Corridor out of consistency with itself. Over time, it¡¯ll reach a state of tranquility, but for now, the instability isn¡¯t tenable. We need to leave.¡±
¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡± Julie shook her head.
¡°Think of it this way: the world is a pond, and a pebble dropped in causes ripples hardly noticed by a duck floating nearby. Inside the Corridor, they¡¯re perceived as massive waves, and they can destroy things in its path, namely us. As far as us getting out, do you remember me telling you that magic is all about the power of the mind?¡±
She nodded.
¡°That¡¯s how we get out. You¡¯re supposed to achieve passage on your own, in your own time, but celerity is required. Do you understand?¡±
¡°Yes, I think so.¡±
¡°Good.¡± He slung his pack on his back and Julie mirrored him. ¡°I¡¯m overriding this place¡¯s hold over you. I want to tell you how to gain the achievement of getting out, but it¡¯s best if you learned yourself. In time, you¡¯ll see a repeating relationship between your tests and the key to success.¡±
She shook her head. ¡°I have no intention of returning!¡±
Judas snatched up her arm and began walking away from the camp. ¡°You¡¯ll have to ultimately, whether you plan to or not.¡±
The familiar cold tingle of teleportation washed over both of them, but they didn¡¯t teleport. The air shimmered, shook noticeably, fighting against the warlock¡¯s conjury and intent. After a few moments, Judas broke through and stepped forward, still herding Julie by the arm. The oppressive presence faded away, and a foreign landscape greeted the pair.
¡°We must be away,¡± he intoned. ¡°We must hurry to the Swamp of Sorrow, and then, to Wizard¡¯s Pass. Something terrible is amiss, I fear.¡±
Taking her hand, the cool effects and fog of teleportation settled over them. In a blink of an eye, they were moving once again¡ªfaster than thought.
Chapter 36: Gryzlaud Palace
A nondescript pine box floated in the air, mired by grime and dirt, stained by its interment. Sidjuous¡¯ flowing locks were matted with sweat, his supercilious face flushed as he marched towards the mirror, the box preceding him like a vanguard. He muttered an incantation and the box settled on the floor.
¡°So you have returned,¡± Xilor intoned, a touch of amusement entered his voice. Sidjuous¡¯ face faltered, having expected a gush of encomium.
The Betrayer stepped away from the mirror, sliding back and out of view, his blue eyes watching Sidjuous with indifference. He didn¡¯tdislike the man, but he had no cause to call him a friend. Sidjuous was the least of his worries.
¡°I dispatched the trolls who toiled there, Master,¡± Sidjuous said with a flourishing bow.
To this, the mirror said nothing. The arrival of Xilor¡¯s other apprentice in the commodious room made it seem all the more confining, restrictive. The Betrayer kept quiet, hoping to keep Xilor¡¯s scrutiny at bay.
¡°Open it,¡± the eyes commanded.
Sidjuous stretched out his hand, summoning his essence in silence, in the hopes of calling forth his power without incantation. Nearly all Xilor¡¯s apprentices were adept at Rumigul; only one far exceeded all others: Krurik. Even the Betrayer could manage some small acts without incantation or wand, but the current task far exceeded his abilities. The same could be said of Sidjuous now. Upon failure, he pulled out his wand and muttered the incantation.
The pine creaked, the nails ripping from their burrowed homes, splintering the wood. With a clatter, the lid fell to the floor. A wispy plume filled the air. Unconsciously, the Betrayer took a few steps to peer inside. Copious dust littered the interior. A tight grin tugged at the corner¡¯s of the Betrayer¡¯s mouth before he remembered where he was. Sidjuous knelt, running his fingers through the fine powder.
¡°Are we sure this is the one?¡± he inquired, his voice quaking with fear.
He worries that he got the wrong one and what the Dark Lord will do with his failure.
¡°I¡¯m sure,¡± the mirror confirmed, the voice distant. ¡°Soon, I¡¯ll be complete again.¡±
¡°Yes, my lord,¡± Sidjuous said, rising. ¡°Soon, you¡¯ll reign, and no one will stand in your way.¡±
¡°That¡¯s not true.¡±
¡°What do you mean, my lord?¡±
¡°Judas Lakayre still lives, and I sense something ¡ strange.¡± The news prickled the Betrayer¡¯s ears. Judas consumed Xilor¡¯s thoughts, the fact that he mentioned another was both odd and disconcerting. It bode both trouble and opportunity. Who¡¯d would be worthy of his notice?
Who could Xilor be referring to?
¡°You shall brush both aside,¡± Sidjuous blustered.
¡°Fool!¡± Xilor hissed, his voice shrill. Agony pierced the Betrayer¡¯s ears. He winced. ¡°It¡¯s an aura I know not.¡± Sidjuous fidgeted, waiting for the dark lord to expound. When nothing came, the golden-haired apprentice spoke. ¡°You¡¯ll crush all resistance across Ermaeyth.¡± The Betrayer released an undetected sigh.
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¡°An aeonian reign. Eternal.¡±
¡°Fitting for one such as you, master.¡±
¡°And for his wife,¡± a light voice called out, concluding Sidjuous¡¯s statement. The Betrayer blinked, shocked at the interruption. Disbelief followed swiftly, recognizing the voice. He turned his head in the direction of the door.
¡°Ah, yes, you¡¯ll reign with me, my betrothed,¡± Xilor purred. The Betrayer¡¯s face fell. Olga strode to the center of the room. Her coppery hair shimmered. A sheer, dark green sybaritic robe with a plunging neckline adorned her body. She left little unseen. Dismay washed through the Betrayer. Olga was one of the young children he sacrificed his future for. She always flaunted his steadfast advice; she now seemed supplicant to Xilor¡¯s teachings.
Olga worded her response delicately. ¡°What worthy gift could I offer my master as a token of my devotion?¡±
¡°Gift?¡±
¡°A sacrifice, my love,¡± Olga offered. ¡°Would that be sufficient for you, my lord?¡±
¡°Yes, a sacrifice would suffice; what would you deem worthy to forgo? To lose your life and for me to revive you would be a sign of your growing passion and trust, would it not?¡±
¡°A sacrifice of my blood, my lord,¡± she hesitated. Her eyes betrayed her inner turmoil. She didn¡¯t envision dying and coming back, but she needed a sign that showed her commitment to him and his cause.
¡°Intriguing. You wish to lose your life-flow and be filled with my blood?¡±
¡°No, my lord,¡± Olga said quietly, a coy smile curling on her face. ¡°I wish to give you my dedication. As a sign of my undying devotion, I¡¯ll give you the soul of my sister, Miza.¡±
¡°No!¡± the Betrayer barked suddenly, startled by what he heard. He cast aside all pretense of invisibility. His mind erupted in panic. How could Olga be so evil? Hadn¡¯t he taught her better than that?
¡°You object to this, Turncoat?¡± The eyes slid to the Betrayer as he took urgent steps forward.
¡°Yes, my lord,¡± he protested, trying not to stammer. ¡°Surely there should be another way to display her loyalty to you.¡±
¡°Yes, her loyalties, but since you object, I begin to wonder of yours. Your amative passions reveal your weakness and duplicity.¡±
The Betrayer knelt on the hard stone in front of the mirror, this humbling action arousing a snigger behind him from Olga. She moved forward, watching the Betrayer¡¯s face as he spoke. ¡°My lord, when I entered your service, I did so under the pretense that my servitude, along with your mercy, spared the life of my own.¡± He swallowed hard, knowing his next words skirted close to outright defiance. ¡°I¡¯ve never known you to be without honor or backing from your bond. My only wish is to ensure our agreement is honored.¡±
Curiosity prickled Olga¡¯s face as she looked between the Betrayer and the mirror. He worded the statements to be ambiguous. Only he and the dark lord knew what transpired, and all attempts to find out by his other apprentices went unanswered.
¡°Noted,¡± Xilor avowed. ¡°I shall decide after my return and when the war is well underway.¡±
Relief washed over the Betrayer, but doubt and worry gnawed in its wake. He carefully masked his feelings behind a placid face. Bowing his head, he thanked Xilor and rose to leave.
¡°Going somewhere?¡± Xilor asked.
¡°Yes, master. I wish to change and bathe, and don fresh clothing. The stench of trolls still fills my nostrils,¡± the smooth lie came. He bowed his head, waiting for permission.
¡°You may go,¡± Xilor said. ¡°Sidjuous, begin transferring the ash. Only one thing remains and the hour grows near¡ª¡±
The Betrayer shut the door behind him, cutting off his words. He¡¯d do as he said, but Miza was who he wanted to see. Another whiff of his robes reminded him that a bath was in order first. Relieved to have postponed a calamity, he set off for his rooms.
Chapter 37: Swamp of Sorrows
¡°Why can I see a blue swirl when we teleport?¡± Julie inquired once they emerged.
¡°You can see that?¡± he blinked at her. ¡°I¡¯m surprised. Not all people can detect the effects of teleportation. To answer your question, I¡¯m not trying to mask my abilities from you. If I did, you¡¯d never see anything.¡± He gave her a tight-lipped smile.
Julie weighed his words, mulling them in silence.
¡°Come, Julie. A treacherous journey lies ahead.¡± He turned and climbed a steep incline. Julie paused a moment longer before following.
An ache burned in her legs before long. Glancing up, she noticed that Judas had already started the downward trek. He seemed keen to keep his distance, but he did say the way would be perilous, maybe even unpredictable, and decided to take a good lead.
Maybe he needs alone time?
Julie let her mind drift as she started a hustled descent. Meristal¡¯s face floated before her mind¡¯s eye. She wondered briefly how her life and training would¡¯ve turned out under her tutelage. Several times, she almost lost her footing while she hastened, managing to gain ground on the warlock.
He prompted discussion once they were in earshot of each other. ¡°What are you contemplating?¡±
¡°Nothing,¡± Julie lied.
¡°Would nothing include Madam Raviils?¡±
¡°You can read my thoughts, can¡¯t you?¡±
¡°No, just the gist, more like getting an image with no captions. Comes in handy sometimes; other times, you might gain a quick death.¡±
¡°Yes, I was thinking about Madam Raviils.¡±
¡°And?¡±
Uncomfortable with facing the truth, she switched subjects. ¡°I thought you said we were entering a swamp?¡± The moment she questioned, her boot sunk a finger¡¯s length with a thick sloshing sound. ¡°Terrific.¡± Her foot stuck in the muddied ground, making each step arduous. After a dozen encumbering strides, she called out, ¡°How far until we reach solid ground?¡±
¡°Too far, but we¡¯ll make it alright,¡± Judas said, unworried.
¡°Too far? What if we tire? Then, what?¡±
¡°Then, we drown,¡± Judas heckled, trying to hold back a laugh.
¡°Now¡¯s not the time for jokes. I could use answers.¡±
Better answers would¡¯ve helped me in the Corridor!
Knowing she wouldn¡¯t receive any, she let the matter drop, simmering with discontent. With each step, she grew more perturbed; his latest half-answer and jest riled her. She didn¡¯t mind jokes and cutting up, but now wasn¡¯t the moment. Worry whittled her. She set her foot down, expecting thick mud but instead warm, stagnant water reeking of rot and decay splashed, drenching her cheek and nearly entering her mouth. She decided she disliked water of any type other than a bath. Dark, brown slosh churned in the wake of her foot, the mossy green froth riding the ripples before closing the sudden breach.
Judas stopped ahead, and by the time she reached him, sweat soaked her back, and her hair matted the sides of her face.
¡°Now, we swim.¡±
¡°Couldn¡¯t we teleport to where we are going?¡± she queried, panting and disgruntled.
¡°Yes, we could, but it¡¯s considered an insult.¡±
¡°What is?¡±
¡°Barging into someone¡¯s home unannounced. Well, their yard.¡±
¡°Whose yard?¡±
¡°Saricrocians. That¡¯s why I¡¯m taking the lead.¡± His blue eyes swept over her. ¡°You¡¯re tired. Here.¡± He withdrew his wand, and a wave of warmth and energy cocooned her, leeching the ache and fatigue from her body. ¡°Do you remember in Dlad City when you collapsed from magical exhaustion?¡± She nodded. ¡°That¡¯s what the rejuvenating spell is for.¡±
Relief suffused her. Judas accompanied her, and while this place was heinous in its way, it wasn¡¯t the Corridor of Cruelty. He¡¯d take care of her.
Maybe he¡¯s turning over a new leaf? What could go wrong?
¡°And just when you think nothing can go wrong,¡± Judas cut into her silent musings, ¡°something does, so keep a good lookout. There are dangerous creatures about.¡±
Great!
¡°I wish you would stop doing that!¡± she snapped. ¡°That¡¯s a real pain in the ass when you can¡¯t openly think because someone is listening in.¡±
¡°What are you talking about?¡± Judas frowned, a puzzled look coming to his face.
¡°You read my mind. Just stop, okay?¡±
¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about, my dear. I haven¡¯t read your mind. It¡¯s an invasion tantamount to taking advantage of an inebriated woman. I wouldn¡¯t do that to you.¡±
He moved forward, and Julie was grateful for the space between them, the matter seemingly dropped. Water kicked up in his wake as she watched him sink deeper and deeper. Before long, the water rose past his waist. She followed, sighing, reaffirming her hatred of water. By the time she reached where Judas had been, he swam in front of her, a side stroke variant. With her lips pressing into a thin line, she started after him. Judas reached the opposite shore and waited for her to progress through the murky waters. She exited, breathing hard, her boots sloshing on the soft bank. Her robes clung to her; sludge marred her hands and neck, and she shuddered at the thought that it permeated through her clothing.
Seeing her safely on land, Judas turned and plunged through thick foliage, missing holes of knee-deep water. Rolling her eyes, Julie traced his steps.
Without preamble, Judas spoke. ¡°I can¡¯t read your thoughts ¡ not like before. Now and then, when you¡¯re truly concentrating, I get a vague impression, but to read you like a book?¡± He shook his head.
Shocked at his revelation, she asked, ¡°Why?¡±
¡°I don¡¯t know, not for sure. Something happened to you in the Corridor.¡±
Yeah, no shit.
He continued, ¡°Perhaps Mr. Pleasure¡¯s company did more than we both originally thought.¡±
¡°What do you mean?¡±
¡°I¡¯m not sure, not yet. Give me time.¡±
She ground her teeth, chafed by the lack of answers.
¡°When were you going to tell me you could discern my inner musings?¡±
¡°What do you want me to say?¡± he asked, looking back at her. ¡°That your contemplations screamed at me? There¡¯s no simple way to broach the topic. Usually, with time and training, a person will learn to control what they circulate. Even people with training still let a few slip through the cracks. Often it¡¯s but a hum churning in their head, but you,¡± he shook his head, ¡°nothing. Unless, if you focus, perhaps.¡±
¡°I had no idea.¡±
¡°Maybe you attained more control. Ordinarily, this shielding technique is taught, but you¡¯re doing it instinctively. Your aura seems more powerful than before. It¡¯s a way I can measure your progress. When you first woke at my house, I could detect you if I concentrated, a sliver of a new moon, but now, you¡¯re near waxing.¡± He shrugged. ¡°Enough of that, let¡¯s change the subject.¡±
The stench of rot clung to the insides of her nostrils, and she missed a step, plunging her boot in knee-deep water. She cursed silently, but in her riled state, she shot the question. ¡°Why?¡±
He stopped, his arm extended, holding half-rotted branches. Julie closed the gap between them. ¡°Why what?¡±
¡°Why do you want to change the subject? Why?¡± A sharp silence settled between them. Julie, acutely aware of the beads of sweat rolling down the side of her face, held his gaze, challenging him.
¡°Because the line of conversation can be dangerous,¡± he finally said, his voice embracing an edge of his own.
¡°Dangerous?¡± she scoffed. ¡°Like the swamp? The Corridor? Mr. Pleasure? That kind of dangerous? You¡¯re overly cautious. Give me a straight answer!¡±
Judas let the branch go and faced her. His azure eyes penetrated her. ¡°You¡¯re angry, so I won¡¯t hold your words against you. It¡¯s dangerous because any continuance down that line of conversation would turn to praise. I¡¯m exceedingly proud of the progress you¡¯ve made, but as important as it is for you to know how well, you need to be mindful that it doesn¡¯t go to your head. If it does, you¡¯ll become sloppy and tempted to more enticing paths, like Xilor. You must earn my praise; I don¡¯t give it freely nor lightly. Is your curiosity satisfied?¡±
She nodded, speechless at his tone and rebuke. Judas turned, continuing down an invisible path through treacherous growth.
¡°Here we go!¡± the warlock exclaimed a few moments later. ¡°Solid ground.¡± Julie entered the clearing behind him, thankful for the hard earth. Their way was unhindered by muck, water, twisted roots, or branches for a few yards. Dismay settled over her as she peered through the fog, noting where their unhampered walk would end.
The marshy bank gurgled at each side of them; the churning water sloshed eerily in the swamp. For the first time, Julie observed the quiet, the stillness, expecting more. A chill raced down her spine. The only sounds she heard came from them, and her laborious breath thundered in her ears. With her wet clothes, aching muscles, and the humidity, her energy waned. She turned to spy the opposite shore from which they came; she could make out the faint line of the cliffs. It seemed much further. Judas¡¯s receding footsteps faded, continuing without relent.
¡°We should¡¯ve teleported past the water.¡±
¡°Magic is to serve your needs, not your wants. Don¡¯t make a crutch out of a gift.¡±
Julie hurried to catch up, not wanting to be left far behind.
¡°I¡¯ve been wondering. You haven¡¯t once spoken about your family or children.¡± It was a loaded statement, one she yearned to unearth, but since Mr. Pleasure, she cautioned such thinking. Curiosity slithered past prudence, hoping to delve deeper into the mystery of the warlock.
The question made Judas stop short; he turned, a hoary weariness in his eyes. ¡°What makes you wonder about that?¡±
¡°You never spoke about it, and I wondered ¡¡± she stammered, shaken by the haunted look filling his eyes. ¡°I never saw anyone at your manor besides Staell. The only other people I¡¯ve met was the boy, Todd, and Madam Meristal.¡±
He nodded and swallowed before turning abruptly and walking away, but this time, the pace much slower, a pace suited for a man of his age. Julie, unsure whether to pursue the conversation or to let it die, settled on the latter when he spoke up. ¡°Yes, I have family and a child. Both are tragic stories,¡± he said, voice sullen. Though Julie could not glimpse his face, she heard his pain and withheld tears. ¡°Which would you like first?¡±
¡°Your child¡ªwill I ever get to meet this person?¡±
¡°No, I¡¯m afraid not. After the birth of my daughter, they immediately placed her in protection. Her birth came in the wake of the healing process of the Wizard¡¯s War. The last remaining minions of Xilor killed her and her guardians.¡±
¡°Why?¡± Julie asked, horrified.
¡°I killed their leader, and to them, it was only fair to kill what was precious to me. Revenge could only serve in killing me, but killing my child would crush me; so in a sense, their victory would be much sweeter.¡±
Silence suffocated the void between them. Julie wanted to speak but couldn¡¯t. Where would she begin? Sorry didn¡¯t quite measure up.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.
What good would it do him, after all this time?
¡°It was a little over two ages ago,¡± he said. ¡°I met my sweet little girl only once. After what happened, I wish ¡ No parent should have to mourn their child.¡± He cast a glance back at her. ¡°You¡¯re slightly older, but she¡¯d be about your age.¡±
¡°Who were the guardians?¡±
¡°Staell arranged the keeping of my child.¡±
¡°You¡¯re still friends?¡± Julie interjected with disbelief.
¡°Of course, it took a while to get over my loss¡ªI don¡¯t think you ever get over it, but it gets easier to carry the burden¡ªand I held him responsible for a time. In the end, I came to my senses and realized how could it have been his fault?¡±
Julie suppressed the urge to speak, letting him be. She mentally kicked herself and divined her special ability was opening old wounds. A respectful span stretched between them.
¡°I also had a sibling,¡± Judas spoke once again. ¡°An older twin brother. Our father died before we grew late into our adulthood. During the middle of the war, Xilor took Josiah¡¯s life. Our mother died after her sons set off on different paths, but neither parent lived to witness his death or my exile.¡±
Julie couldn¡¯t help but speak. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Master Judas. I had no idea. If I had known ¡¡±
¡°You would¡¯ve held your tongue?¡± he finished for her. ¡±Yes, but you didn¡¯t, and you would¡¯ve found out sooner or later. Better to hear it from the best person who can tell you than through hearsay.
¡°My mother didn¡¯t know she carried twins at first, but when she found out, she was ready to name a boy and a girl. When my brother came out, she named him Josiah; and when I came, well, let¡¯s just say I would¡¯ve had a real pretty name.¡±
Julie couldn¡¯t help but smile, finding humor in the thought of Judas¡¯s mother expecting a girl. Meristal¡¯s face flickered in her mind¡¯s eye. ¡°Does Madam Raviils have any children?¡±
Judas paused. ¡°She had a son. The child died shortly after birth. Tragic ¡ a sad day for her.¡±
Julie, baffled by the response, once again wished she hadn¡¯t spoken at all. Only death and destruction seemed to follow Judas and Meristal. Nothing good came out of their lives, losing family and loved ones but surviving the Wizard¡¯s War.
Once, she sensed a connection between them, an unspoken romance or untold love interest. Now, she knew that chemistry came as a bond the two shared alone¡ªthe bond of knowing the other lost a child. It was heart-rending. With the painful revelation, Julie kept her distance, holding sympathies and words to herself.
Night fell not an hour after Judas¡¯s sad tale, coming early to the dense swamps. They made camp just shy of their destination. Judas said he wanted a good night¡¯s sleep before melding minds with the saricrocians. They struck out early the next morning after having a light vegetable soup for breakfast. A few hours later, they came to the outskirts of their lair.
¡°We¡¯re about to enter the nest,¡± Judas proclaimed.
¡°Nest?¡±
¡°Think of it as our council back at Ralloc, but only three overseers instead of seven.¡±
Mosquitoes and flies buzzed around them as sweat poured from their bodies. By now, Julie could detect her body odor through the dried, fetid water on her clothes. What she wouldn¡¯t give for a bath. They sloshed through stagnant water and mud puddles of various depths, tripping over thick tangles of roots and vines.
Julie acquired a bone-weary fatigue from their trek while their silence relented intermittently. Judas kept up his lack of engagement since the day before, but Julie couldn¡¯t discern the cause: her anger? Or the wounded past she bled anew? Whichever, it made matters worse.
Guilt riddled her for asking about his child, and she hoped he didn¡¯t think unkindly of her for doing so. Their relationship shifted once again. In some ways, she imagined herself secure and safe. Other times, she suspected him holding back, afraid to get too close. After the Corridor of Cruelty, everything changed.
The nagging feeling that her destiny fell along a different path wasn¡¯t far from her mind. With each day slipping by, it seemed more evident, but achieving such ends daunted her. The choice to accept Judas as her master wasn¡¯t a choice at all, but a decision thrust upon her.
¡°We¡¯re in the nest now, and soon, we¡¯ll be at the center,¡± Judas broke into her musings.
Sweat poured from her brow and down her neck, soaking her loose-fitting robes with the salty, stagnant water. How long had they been traveling? She kept plunging one foot in front of the other, the sludge clumping now.
¡°These saricrocians are old. Their time to die will come soon.¡±
¡°How do you know they¡¯ll die soon?¡± Julie scratched her forehead at the stinging bite of a mosquito.
¡°They¡¯re old, wise, and enormous.¡± Judas paused long enough to look back at her.
¡°Just what I wanted to hear,¡± she whispered sarcastically.
¡°There¡¯s nothing to fear, but be mindful, they can sense it. Fear drives them into a frenzy; that¡¯s how they hunt, by the conscious and subconscious fears of others. Try not to talk or scream; our vocals hurt their ears.¡± He took a few more steps and then decided to expound on his instructions. ¡°Try not to think about anything. These Ancients have powerful abilities to read minds. Focus on your robes, or the ground, anything but what you want to think about. Above all, don¡¯t stare. They are black and red, a distinctive marking of age, very different to the usual earth tones of the younger populace. It¡¯d be taken as an insult to gawk at them.¡± He hesitated and gave her a small smile. ¡°I think I covered everything. Don¡¯t talk, don¡¯t think, don¡¯t stare, don¡¯t be afraid. Don¡¯t do anything at all.¡±
¡°Ha, ha, you¡¯re funny,¡± she muttered.
¡°If they speak to you, answer them.¡±
¡°Got it, don¡¯t talk unless spoken to.¡±
All too soon, the clumping mire gave way to soil crowned in golden-brown pine needles that crunched softly underfoot. The trees grew denser with roots twisting and arching above the soft soil, a far more treacherous footing for her and the aging warlock than before. A deep rustling sound of breathing echoed ominously through the faint mist, but she didn¡¯t glimpse the promised red-and-black beasts.
Judas led with a steadfast pace, passing over a hill and descending back down into a large bowl-shaped depression. Inside the depression lay three saricrocians bigger than Julie imagined. She quickly tried to clamp down on her alarm, a near-impossible feat. They were like houses¡ªlong, wide, and tall, all lying together in a semicircle.
Their various hued eyes glowed and focused on the pair of them as they drew near. Julie hastily sized up the glowing orbs. One eye rivaled her size if she curled into a fetal position. She sensed the weight of their gazes. Curling up didn¡¯t seem like such a bad idea.
No fear, she thought, clamping down on her reeling mind.
Judas laid an affectionate hand on her shoulder before he spoke with his mind. Julie didn¡¯t comprehend the exact reason. Support or to make her privy her to the exchange?
Greetings, majestic beings, Judas thought. I¡¯m Warlock Lakayre, and this is my apprentice, Julie.
We¡¯re aware of you, warlock. You hold no interest for us and have been among our kind before, the Ancient in the center thought-spoke. You¡¯re always, of course, welcome; but you bring someone new to the meld.
She¡¯s too young. She hasn¡¯t been training long; it might cause more harm than good.
She¡¯s of your height; she must be nearing the age of adulthood. She should be able to handle the meld, the Ancient to the left thought.
Judas tried to brush aside their obsession. She¡¯s different¡ªspecial, from the Other Side.
Three gigantic mouths opened, hissing, revealing massive teeth longer than Julie¡¯s leg. Their eyes flickered between the wizardkind.
The Other Side? How¡¯s that possible? All who cross die. It must¡¯ve taken you time to get here.
Curious that she hasn¡¯t expired.
She¡¯s a Wcic, and it¡¯s by a miracle that she has survived, Judas thought back to them. Surely, you don¡¯t want to be responsible for killing such a splendid, beautiful, and rare being. Like I said before, she¡¯s special.
Julie looked at Judas and couldn¡¯t restrain her shock at his words. Did he really think that about her, or did he fib to protect her? What was the meld, and what would it do to her?
She thinks a lot, the Ancient in the center thought. I like her perception. She¡¯s calculating, and shocked by your evaluation of her; this is evident in her face. Do you see it, too?
To this, Judas said nothing. The old reptile continued, She has many feelings for you. We can hear them, even as she tries to clamp down and bury them from us, from you. But there are other feelings lurking beneath. Anger. Fear. Hatred?
Yes, the left one concurred. She¡¯s strong with passion and desire. There¡¯s something odd about her. Can you feel it? It¡¯s in her mind, in the scent of her blood. She¡¯s different.
Yes, Judas interjected. She¡¯s different, special like I said.
No, she¡¯s something ¡ more, the reptile in the middle spoke. Something I haven¡¯t appraised in a long time, not since¡ª
A nephiliam? the Ancient to the right spoke up for the first time.
Yes, the nephiliam, the one on the left concurred.
Majestic beings, Judas began, with respect, it¡¯s impossible for her to be a nephiliam. They¡¯ve been extinct for a long time, almost since the beginning of magic. There¡¯s no way you could¡ª
What? the center one challenged. His head shifted closer to Judas. You think we¡¯ve made a mistake? We are never mistaken! Our lives are long, yet our memories are longer, passed down through the generations.
The meld allowed the saricrocians to pass memories to one another, a race with few secrets from each other. The fairies were the only other race with this ability.
Even if we weren¡¯t alive when the nephiliam¡¯s light extinguished, we¡¯d distinguish by the meld. Any saricrocian would recollect by a mere whiff. The odd thing is how a nephiliam survived. And to be so young¡
Hello? Julie interjected, unable to bear it any longer. I¡¯m still here, and I¡¯d like it if you wouldn¡¯t talk like I wasn¡¯t!
The Ancients mouths opened again, the hiss sharp and much louder than before. All shifted, the ground vibrated beneath her feet. She took an involuntary step back, but Judas¡¯s hand kept her rooted.
Her master gave her a hard glance before scolding her. You don¡¯t speak unless you are spoken to, apprentice. He turned back to the Ancients. Please, forgive her transgression. She¡¯s unfamiliar with your ways and customs.
Exclude her, the creature from the right commanded.
Judas let go of her shoulder and stepped forward, leaving Julie blocked from the rest of the communication. Julie glared at the back of Judas¡¯s head, fuming. She stared intently, failing to realize the Ancients scrutinized her in return. She smiled weakly, embarrassed that they caught her. They turned back to their silent conversation.
Left to the whims of her mind, Julie thought over the proceedings. Whatever business he conducted, she didn¡¯t have any inkling. Judas didn¡¯t share secrets. For a time, she wondered what they spoke about, but the futility of such speculation bored her. Though they¡¯d yet to broach the subject overmuch, she tried to bury the emotional turmoil in the wake of Mr. Pleasure. She hadn¡¯t forgotten, probably never would, but the more she focused on it, the angrier she became.
Her essence always came to her in moments of heightened emotions. Judas told her not to rely on feelings alone. Waiting in the humidity and silence, she sat down a dozen paces behind Judas and tried to meditate, search for the elusive magic. She folded her legs under her. Taking a deep breath, she relaxed her posture, the tension melting out of her taut shoulders. Julie visualized the strain fading away, leaving her body in a wispy vapor, seeping from her spine, through her legs and into the earth below.
She felt it.
A small, almost tingling sensation thrummed through her body, rhythmic like a cat¡¯s purr. It tickled like a whispered breath on the nape of her neck, envisioning the heat rather than feeling it. She followed the fragile wisps inward, visualizing the journey. When she drew in as far as she could, then, slowly let herself drift out into the earth below her, the trees around her, and into the air. An outer body sensation pervaded her consciousness.
As she let her presence drift, a small but calmly persistent tugging drew her focus, carrying her away from her body.
A fire flickered before her, a radiant flame. Warmth caressed her face. Darkness swaddled the boundary of her vision. A book with strange glyphs ensconced in her lap; the edges faintly abraded with the passage of time. She¡¯d seen this book before. It belonged to Judas. The symmetry of each stroke gave off an elegant beauty. With the trace of her finger, she marveled at its refinement.
Serpentine whispers of an alien language tickled Julie¡¯s ears, resonating all around her, but soft, like a delicate breeze. The hushed tone, neither threatening nor frightening, conveyed warmth, inviting, seductive. The unfamiliar words grew acute, steadfast. Her eyes turned down to the book, realizing the words came from within.
¡°Your wand, your words can release us ¡ We will tell you everything. You are the Bearer of the Secrets of past, present, and future ¡Give your name to us. Become one¡¡±
Her wand manifested in her hand, the sensation swelled. The calling was captivating, growing stronger, melting her resolve. She spoke her name to the book.
¡°Julie.¡±
The book burst open with a burning, pure light, pouring out and carrying her into oblivion.
¡°The Bearer of Secrets has been found,¡± the book sighed, content.
¡°Julie!¡± Judas shouted at her, snapping her out of her trance. The Ancients hissed in pain. His hands clenched her shoulders tightly and the booming voice a saricrocian filled her mind.
What were you thinking, child?
Julie stood and bowed her head apologetically. Noting the warlock¡¯s hand still on her shoulder, she spoke. Forgive me for my carelessness. I didn¡¯t mean to interject into your minds.
The Ancient on the right spoke up again, We couldn¡¯t hear your thoughts, your mind became opaque, quiet to us.
What were you thinking? the one in the center roared.
About a book. A book Warlock Lakayre gave me.
I haven¡¯t given you a book, Judas interjected.
It was like a memory, yet I know it hasn¡¯t happened, she exclaimed. It seemed so real¡
An audible buzz filled her mind, the saricrocians speaking to each other, too fast and complex for her to make anything out. An ache festered in her head.
Exclude her, they commanded again.
A few moments later, Judas bowed unexpectedly and grabbed her by the arm. His tight grip twinged with bearable pain, but she kept silent. Something bothered him. Would he tell her?
They left, their pace alacritous, and were far from the nest before he released her or spoke. Julie, too timid to violate the silence, perceived her master¡¯s agitation and knew it was for her outburst. She waited for her scolding.
When he did speak, the words were unexpected. ¡°I can¡¯t believe the Ancients!¡± Judas fumed. ¡°How can they just sit by and do nothing?¡±
¡°Why did you meet with them?¡±
Judas stopped and gawked as if he had forgotten she was there. It took him a second to shake it off and get his bearings back. ¡°They refused to aid us in the coming war. They said it¡¯s not theirs, just like the last one.¡±
¡°They said that?¡±
He huffed. ¡°We¡¯ll travel a bit further and camp. Tomorrow, we¡¯ll reach Wizard¡¯s Pass.¡±
¡°How much further until we get out of the swamp?¡±
¡°Not much, but enough.¡± He smiled. ¡°I have a friend who would be very interested in meeting you. Come on.¡±
Unsure of how to take the comment, she traced his steps, putting distance between them and the Ancients.
Chapter 38: The Abyssinians & Chapter 39: The Bearer of Secrets
A dark, dense fog rolled out of the Abyss, invading the world of the living, a world of shapes and color. A quiet miasma coiled out of the nothing, a world of void, and spread like a seeping poison into Ermaeyth. The murkiness billowed like the dense black smoke of burning oil, condensing into a vaporous fog, rolling over everything in sight. To the east it slithered with deliberate haste, driven by a sentience not its own. From within, the sound of a sinister laugh echoed the closer it drew to Gryzlaud.
This fog carried the will of death.
The miasma¡¯s presence, a violation of the world itself, was set to purpose, driven by a twisted and malevolent spirit, one much like its own. The soul promised the Abyssians, sentients without physical form, the ability to take shape, and become masters of their own bodies. Languishing without the meaning of time, with no regard to what lay outside their realm, ignorant of the world above waiting to be conquered, they stirred for these words. When the invading anima breached their sanctuary, they became aware. With a newfound knowledge, a bargain was struck, promises made. They left their home for the first time in the service of a darker entity. They held up their part of the deal; now Xilor would uphold his.
The black cloud rolled over the manse, a palace of malice, through walls and doors like it was air. Inside the walls the cloud expanded, exploring its destination with curiosity and compulsive intent, like a hound running down a wounded animal. The cloud boiled and billowed with frenzy, searching each hall, room, and crevice. Curiosity satisfied, the obscured vapor retreated, plunging downward towards the mirror in the castle bowels. Like phantom pains from missing limbs, the spirit and consciousness called to each other, a bond growing stronger the closer the miasma drew to the mirror. With caution, the darkness entered the room, circling the reflective surface.
¡°We have come, traveling from the deep,¡± the voice slithered out, an oily hiss, slow and ponderous. Each word spoken sounded like an inhale, a deliberate pause between every few words. ¡°Fulfill your promise, High One.¡±
¡°How can I fulfill my oath if you still hold my soul?¡± the eyes said, mocking him.
¡°Keep your word or it will remain with us, High One.¡±
¡°Don¡¯t taunt me, Vlukus; it¡¯d be unfortunate to travel all this way just to die. I¡¯ll hold up my end of the bargain, but I must become one first. Then, my full powers will be restored.¡±
¡°You never told us this in the Abyss.¡±
¡°Know this, Vlukus,¡± Xilor hissed. ¡°If you don¡¯t give me what I want willingly, I¡¯ll take it by force and destroy you. I¡¯m a man of my word and reward loyalty. Return my soul, and I¡¯ll give you physical form.¡±
He could feel his spirit fighting to be free, the agitation palpable. He nearly felt whole, complete.
¡°Bring forth my soul, Vlukus, and let us be done with it.¡±
Chapter 39
The night grew much cooler than Julie expected. As soon as the last of the sunlight washed away, the swamp¡¯s temperature plummeted, defusing the heavy humidity. The rotting wood and decaying smells of stagnant water vanished with the fading rays.
Judas started a fire, and Julie caught snippets of his mutterings about stubborn saricrocians. The gruffness he used while tossing wood into the fire and his curt words betrayed his emotions. After the fire had taken, he laid down on his pack, keeping to himself.
Julie, knowing it foolish to assume all the blame, still bore responsibility for the change between them. She brought up the subject of Judas¡¯s and Meristal¡¯s dead children. Since then, Judas remained uncharacteristically quiet, almost distant.
The fire, the outdoors, the cooking food, seemed familiar. She didn¡¯t know when, or how, but the vague stirring wouldn¡¯t abate. She¡¯ddone this before.
¡°Master Judas? What do you call what we are doing?¡± Julie asked feeling foolish.
¡°This, Julie, is called enjoying the outdoors. Relaxing, isn¡¯t it?¡±
¡°No, this whole sitting outside with the fire and the food ¡ I can¡¯t remember, but I¡¯ve done this before, somewhere¡.¡± Her voice trailed off.
¡°Oh, this is camping. Best not try to remember things too hard or to dwell on them; it¡¯ll only produce frustration.¡±
¡°Well, what else should I do to keep my mind off what I can¡¯t remember?¡±
¡°Sleep, maybe?¡±
¡°I can¡¯t remember anything from the other place I came from, not even the name. Where was that again? A person could go mad not knowing. Maybe if you taught me something, it¡¯d take my mind off it.¡±
¡°Hold on.¡± Judas sat up and turned to his pack. Inside, he retrieved two books and handed them to her before resuming his lounging position. Julie handled them with care. Upon inspection, she noted the form of writing she¡¯d never seen before. It arched with strange angles and slants, accented with circles, dots, crossings, and geometric shapes. She looked back at Judas, flabbergasted.
He stared intently from his reclined pose, waiting for something to happen. When the moment passed, he closed his eyes and let out a long, deep sigh. Julie returned her gaze to the other book with nice, neat handwriting.
¡°What language is this in?¡± she asked, astounded.
¡°I can read some of every language in the realm, except Angelic. However, when I see Angelic, I can recognize it. This book is an unknown one.¡± He opened his eyes and glanced up at the stars.
¡°Which languages do you know?¡±
¡°Well, let¡¯s see. Almost, if not all, creatures speak the universal tongue of Myshku. At least, on this side of Ermaeyth. Hmm, let me see here,¡± he sat up. ¡°Saricrocian, they speak Cytuu; the gorrillians, they speak Gnilyp; the vampires, their tongue is Sralucon. Taengrenian for the trolls and the dwaven, but if I recall, the dwaven changed to Akyhmri. The fairies speak Kaot; and the elyfian, they commune with Thymulous; that¡¯s about all, I think. But there are others I don¡¯t know, languages across the Golden Sea. Over there, Myshku¡¯s the only language spoken there that¡¯s also spoken here, though scarcely.¡±
¡°Wait, you didn¡¯t say goblins!¡±
¡°An oversight, my apologies. The goblins speak Lythououri and Taengrenian, along with trolls and dwaven. The reason is that before the dwaven went underground, they enslaved both the trolls and the goblins, and converted them to speak their tongue. However, the movement within the dwaven nation to distance themselves from the stigma of enslavement passed, and they no longer speak it.¡±
¡°You said everything except for what the unicorns speak.¡±
¡°It¡¯s called Ucoric, but no one knows how to speak it. They don¡¯t divulge that information, even to their kind. For the most part, they speak Myshku. Only a few, enlightened elite know their true tongue. But once a generation, the unicorn maghai change, and the circle closes again.¡±
Julie frowned at this new complexity. A hidden language, maybe forbidden by their ancestors? She lay on her side, staring at the book and twirling her hair in her fingers.
¡°Judas?¡± she asked gently. ¡°If you can¡¯t read this and few can, then why did you give it to me?¡±
¡°Oh,¡± Judas let out a half-asleep moan, ¡°in case you might see something I don¡¯t. A fresh pair of eyes usually does the trick.¡± She turned her attention back to the book. A few moments later, deep breathing stole over the old warlock as he slept.
She put the book aside and pulled out the other one with a titleless cover. On the first page, a tidy scrawl penned the only blemish.
Property of Judas Lakayre.
She thumbed past the page noting the conglomeration of handwritten notes, spells, and letters stuck between pages from other people. The first letter catching her attention was a name she recognized: Josiah Lakayre, Judas¡¯s twin brother. Untidy, big handwriting littered the page and marked him as young.
It isn¡¯t fair! How did you get out of school? Why you? It should be me; I¡¯m older than you. Ma and Pa say you went back home¡ªwhat, you miss them too much? You always were a Ma¡¯s boy. People here say you¡¯ve been granted a master already. I say that¡¯s a load. I just tell my friends you went all mental, couldn¡¯t handle the workload.
The school is boring this year. It¡¯s a lot of out-of-class work. I wish you were here to help me. You were always smarter. That¡¯s another reason to hate you! Ha, ha, ha! No, but it¡¯s boring without you here to pick on. Guess we¡¯ll find someone else.
See you during break, Squirt!
Julie smiled and wondered if she had a sibling, back wherever she came from. She¡¯d never know. The jealousy from Josiah¡¯s words was evident, and she wondered if that altered his path in life, putting them on separate courses. Judas talked about his brother in rare moderation, and she wondered if this was the cause.
She thumbed through a few more pages and saw another letter. This time, a crisp scrawl, angular, and sharp, grabbed her attention. The writer took care in crafting the writing, and she got the impression they held themselves of great importance.
It won¡¯t do ¡ too long has passed since you stayed under my roof, ate bread and drank wine from my table, and sat with me for old times¡¯ sake. I do wish you¡¯d heed my words and come quicker than planned. I fear war is about to engulf my beloved city once again. Our borders and boundaries are in dispute and constantly contested. Word has reached my ears of an outpost growing in strength not a day¡¯s ride from the city by the Emaas River. Perhaps you¡¯ll come and document history in the making? We campaign to eradicate them from our lands.
At the closing, Julie couldn¡¯t determine who sent it. A military commander? Diplomat? Someone in a position of power and wealth? Whoever wrote the letter took immense lengths imploring Judas to see him or her. She observed the bottom of the page, torn where the signature should be. Judas hid the identity of the sender. Why? A female friend? The tone didn¡¯t imply such thoughts.
She thumbed through the book a while longer but didn¡¯t find much of interest. Julie set it aside, and picked up the other book with the strange glyphs and marveled at the symmetry, tracing the writing with her finger.
Serpentine whispers of alien words tickled her ears, resonating all around, but soft, like a delicate breeze. The whisper, neither threatening nor frightening, conveyed warmth, inviting, seductive. The unfamiliar words grew acute, steadfast. Her eyes turned down to the book, realizing the words came from within. The hushed gibberish morphed into something recognizable. The glyphs on the cover contorted into the common tongue of Myshku before disappearing altogether.
¡°Your wand, your words can release us ¡ We will tell you everything; you are the Bearer of the Secrets of past, present, and future ¡ Give your name to us. Become one¡¡±
Apprehension rooted deep. Too fantastical to be true, she told herself. She wanted to cry out to Judas, startled by a book speaking to her, but something impeded her words. Her fingers ran over the cover of the book in a cautious, exploratory manner.
A book even Judas can¡¯t understand, and yet it spoke to me. It¡¯ll open for me and no other¡
She took her wand out. Though doubt lingered, she spoke her name to the book. ¡°Julie.¡±
The book burst open. Radiant light saturated its holder, a luminosity that would leave her blind had she been anyone else. But she was the Bearer of Secrets.
What¡¯s a Bearer of Secrets?
In revealing her name, the book shattered the block inhibiting her from reaching her potential. She felt it give way, crumbling, obliterated. At once, the unfathomable well of magic awakened in her, answering her command as easy as breathing. At long last, she could feel her essence without unbridled emotions.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
¡°We shall teach you in your greatest times of need,¡± the book promised. ¡°For your instruction to start, you must return to the Place of Origins in the Melodic Mountains. For what is to come, you must give your mind, body, and soul. Do not hold back.¡±
Julie looked over to her teacher. It wasn¡¯t until then she allowed herself to believe what was happening, free from a dream. A habit she formed since leaving the Corridor of Cruelty. She glanced back to the book and began to speak but found the words couldn¡¯t come.
There¡¯s no need for words, the book supplied.
¡°What must I do?¡±
¡°Journey south to the Melodic Mountains, to the Place of Origins.¡±
¡°What about Master Judas?¡±
¡°It is of no consequence.¡±
¡°Why do I need to go to the Place of Origins? Judas is a warlock; he can teach me.¡±
¡°True, he can teach you, but for what comes next, he cannot. You¡¯ll still need to go; don¡¯t delay the inevitable.¡±
¡°I¡¯m worried about him.¡±
¡°Fear not, he¡¯s a formidable man of ancient bloodlines. As much as people fear him, they should fear his offspring more.¡±
¡°He told me his child died¡ªwhat do you mean?¡± As an afterthought, she added, ¡°And how can I trust you?¡±
¡°That¡¯s a lie!¡± The book sounded outraged. ¡°The offspring of Judas lives as well as does Madam Raviils¡¯. The Time Warden hid the truth to protect them. They have not yet perished and have prominent parts yet to play.¡±
¡°Who are they? Where are they? How can I find them?¡±
¡°It¡¯s not a matter of who and where they are, for there was only one birth.¡±
Judas¡¯s daughter is alive! Meristal¡¯s son is alive! But if there was only one birth, which one was the truth?
¡°I thought Madam Raviils had a son, and Judas had a daughter. If this is true, then how can they be one?¡±
¡°One birth because the offspring of Judas came from the womb of Meristal Raviils. They were told opposing stories to protect the true identity of the offspring¡ªthe only true hope of the end of the dark lord. The bloodline must not fail; that¡¯s why such measures were taken to ensure their survival. However, if both should fail, there is another.¡±
¡°How do you know all this?¡±
¡°It was foreseen, glimpsed in the fires from long ago. Everything in this book is factual or foreseen. My creator made me for the Bearer of Secrets.¡±
¡°Where can I find them? Who¡¯s your maker? Why am I the Bearer of Secrets?¡±
¡°That¡¯s enough for now. I bestow one boon to you. Your mind is chaotic, and your emotions are in turmoil. I shall lock your emotions away, but you¡¯ll have to face them eventually. The block will remove itself when you arrive. More awaits you at the Place of Origins, and you¡¯llfind out when the time is right. You¡¯ll know when you look for the truth. It cannot evade you but will come willingly. Head for the Melodic Mountains. There, you¡¯ll study as he studied ¡ and we¡¯ll be with you also.¡±
A surge of beautiful light, a cleansing refulgence washed through her. The anguish she suffered from the Corridor vanished. The memories were there, events, but the book eviscerated the sentiments. Memories, events, happenings across time flowed into her. At first, the scrambled images flashed chaotically, but as mere heartbeats went by, she understood and put them in order. The book didn¡¯t send them in chronological order but rather as momentous events, big and small, in order of importance for her to understand. She knew there were gaps missing in the information because the whole picture didn¡¯t quite make sense. Perhaps with time, it would.
She tasted the faintest traces of Judas¡¯s essence in the flood of visions, as if responsible for those memories, a scent of him imprinted on the recollections. The final revelation before the energy stopped pouring was a small creature. Silver hair clung to his pate on the sides of his head. A long, bushy beard cascaded like an iridescent waterfall down to his belt. She saw Judas¡¯s old master, Fife Doole.
When the book finally closed, Julie glanced with uncertainty in the direction of the warlock. The old man still slept. Only she could perceive the light; she placed the book into her pack. He¡¯d given it to her, and the book promised to help in times of need. Weariness burned away, and she stood, revitalized. To her new perception, the once powerful warlock seemed fragile now, not as superior as she once envisioned.
Is it my imagination that he¡¯s weak, or is it my impression? she pondered.
A tree swayed in the distance, drawing her attention. She snapped her head around, searching the gloom.
Something called her, out in the swamp, between the dark foliage area, where the ground turned to mush, and the trees grew thick and tall. A sense of waiting, wanting, compelling. The tug persisted like a gentle call. Compelled, she followed the beacon.
The call grew stronger the further she moved from her campsite. A sense of wrongness came over her, breaking through the compulsion. Still, curiosity drove her forward, but she warded her mind. Deeper into the swamp, away from the light and into darkness. A persuasive summon. The walls around her mind repelled the enticement, the sense of wrongness clinging to her, turning her insides cold.
Her steps carried her further from the camp and deeper into the gloom, her boots wading in ankle deep water, following the voice. Yes! That was it, a voice!
The compulsion behind the seductive voice purred with warmth, soothing, promising it¡¯d be over soon while secretly sinking its unforgiving talons in her. She scoffed at the attempt, a twist of a smile coming to her face.
With the hem of her robes soaked, she reached the source of the voice and paused. The voice told her to do something she knew would harm her. She surveyed the vast darkness, revealing an image stirring her terror.
One of the trees slowly approached her, each step slow, methodical, silent. A branch swayed. With blinding speed, it reached for her. With no time to duck or dodge, impulses awakened by the book took over.
She¡¯d experienced it before when Judas teleported her from Cape Gythmel to the opening of the Corridor¡ªwitnessed the essence, the shift of energy, the surge of movement. Within a blink of the eye, she¡¯d moved thirty meters to the left.
Relief and surprise gushed in the wake of her first teleport. The tree noticed her hoodwink and tracked her. She sensed the movement more than saw or heard. Yellow eyes opened, glowing from the crown of the swaying treetops. A burst of flame shot out, rushing towards her. A simple gesture of her wand kept the flames from burning as they engulfed her. A manic mirth bubbled out of her, the mage-shield holding strong.
The glowing flame revealed a saricrocian, a much younger adult, but a hungry one. She was prey, sleeping in the swamp. Judas didn¡¯treceive safe passage through their land, and the Ancients were in no position to enforce such edicts.
Cousin to the dragons, saricrocians were a fast, fierce, and a formidable mental opponent. Often, they lured prey into their mouths from their hiding places. This saricrocian tried to lure her into the darkness.
Then, she sensed a familiar trace, a scent she tied to her teacher. Judas. The creature lumbered forward, approaching her sleeping master.
An electrical current coursed through her body, discharging from her wand, arching to the back of the large bipedal reptile. Water churned as it spun around, charging her. Another blast ripped through scales on its chest, searing flesh, rupturing tissue and muscles. A bone-jarring roar peeled through the night. The arching blast jumped from its chest to its head, and when his mouth yawned opened, stray bolts illuminated his sharp teeth as the current raced down its gullet.
The beast kept coming. A premonition flashed in Julie¡¯s mind but too late.
With a movement too fast to counter, the tail swung from the side. Her incomplete mage-shield took the brunt of the impact, but the kinetic energy launched her off her feet. She hurtled through the air. Hardwood and bark rushed up towards her, promising an imminent, bone-shattering death.
Without hesitation, she leaned backward, flipping over, her feet to hit first instead of her head. She concentrated, her life depending on it. Commanding her essence to cushion the blow, she used the tree as a springboard, returning towards her adversary. She accelerated. A stray thought broke her concentration.
Am I flying?
She lost speed; the ground rushed to greet her. Splashing down in brackish water, the impact sent her rolling, her robes drenched and her hair matted. Flecks of dirt and twigs peppered her face. Crouched, she waited, watching, listening.
The persistent voice filled her head with a buzzing sensation. The walls fortified against the coercion, sensing the mechanical, logical mind from wherever it hid. Judas¡¯s words about teleporting, winking, and blinking echoed in her mind. She urged her essence.
Wink. She disappeared from the physical plane.
Darkness converged on her as she reappeared. Nothing. All remained still.
Wink. Out of sight, and again, nothing. Then, she realized she searched from the ground when it was as tall as the forest around her.
Wink. She reappeared in the top most branches nearby, peering out. The sound of wind rushing in and out, deafening in the sudden silence.
Breathing!
She surveyed from the left, sweeping fast, hoping to find it before the saricrocian found her. As her head turned to the right, a giant yellow eye popped open three feet from her.
A red energy cascaded from her wand. The limb shook upon impact, sending her plunging. Gaping jaws chased after her, undeterred by the blasts; its intent focused on stopping the pain and filling its belly.
The swamp came rushing up. At the last instant, she blinked away, only to emerge a few meters away at a run. A glimmer caught her eye. The small fire flickered in the distance, much further away than she remembered.
Where is Judas? Hasn¡¯t he heard the roars and the snapping trees?
She chanced a glimpse over her shoulder, the saricrocian bearing down, its chest relatively healed. Only a few, faint scorch marks remained where she initially hit it with electricity.
Damn, it heals too fast. I won¡¯t win a physical battle. But a mental one?
She stopped a few yards shy of the fire. Turning about, she focused her mind on the subtleties of the saricrocian¡¯s mind, melding her thoughts with its alien cerebral.
Leave, leave me in peace, and I won¡¯t harm you anymore, she urged.
She felt the resistance waver, uncertain. She pressed harder, sinking her mental claws into it, commanding recognition, compliance.
Its pace faltered, the foul water splashing in its slowed pace. A flame flickered inside its mouth.
Leave or I¡¯ll destroy you!
The saricrocian shuddered, a hiss escaped its mouth before it turned and fled into the murky waters, plunging deep into the night.
¡°Come,¡± the book called to her.
When she could no longer sense the saricrocian, she walked back to camp. The firelight gave off a soft glow. Judas still slumbered without stirring. The book explained, answering her unspoken query, ¡°I placed him under a sleeping spell, much like he did to you upon your arrival. Nothing short of my destruction would rouse him. Gather your things; it¡¯s time to go. Your new life¡¯s starting, and it shall begin with your journey there.¡±
¡°You could¡¯ve helped me.¡±
¡°A foreseen victory,¡± came its simple response.
She cast a glance at the sleeping warlock. ¡°What of Judas? I can¡¯t just leave him.¡±
¡°Can¡¯t you? What has he done for you? Other than bring you pain and misery. Haven¡¯t you suffered enough? I¡¯ve watched you since you were first brought into this world, so long ago.¡±
¡°Long ago? I just got here¡ª¡±
¡°Gather your things with all due haste. We must be out of the swamp before sunrise.¡±
¡°Will he be okay?¡±
¡°He won¡¯t die this day,¡± the book offered. Julie took a moment to mull over the choice before her. She could continue with Judas to Wizard¡¯s Pass and carry on under his tutelage. Perhaps reconcile the anguish and lack of trust between them. She might, in time, learn to forgive him and let go of her ¡ hate.
Once she acknowledged what she felt, it was evident. She hated Judas because he allowed those terrible things to happen to her. She didn¡¯t loathe him with utter disgust, but she held enough resentment that she could follow him no longer. Perhaps with time, she could return to him and begin to rebuild the relationship he destroyed.
¡°Okay,¡± she breathed, a slight mist in her eyes. In haste, she gathered her things. Having collected her pack, the two books, and her meager possessions, she battled with her morals for a few heartbeats. She vaguely realized where she was going, how far it was, and she didn¡¯t have any money.
Kneeling next to Judas, she reached for his coin purse and removed it from his belt. Bits of copper, chips of silver, and gold bright eyes emptied on the ground. A few small gold bars she recognized as ingots peppered the coins. She quickly surmised that Judas carried more on his persons than most made in a year. Taking ten chips of silver, less than a third of his total, she tucked them away. The rest of his money, she gathered, and placed it back in the coin purse and returned it to his belt.
¡°You should take more, much more,¡± the book chided her.
¡°Stealing from him isn¡¯t what I wanted to do, but I need money. Even though I¡¯m thieving from him, I¡¯m not without conscience. I¡¯ll only take what I need to survive.¡±
The book fell silent as she started away from the camp. She didn¡¯t look back until she¡¯d taken a hundred steps, counting each one, weighed down by a chance at freedom and guilt equally. A small lump formed in her throat.
Can I leave him?
Yes, the voice in her head replied. Mr. Pleasure flashed through her mind, hardening her resolve.
I¡¯ll never be that vulnerable again. I¡¯ll never be helpless, she vowed to herself.
She turned her back on that chapter in her life, plunging deeper into the unknown, heading for her new life and whatever adventures awaited.
Chapter 40: Xilors Return
The Betrayer eased into the room, shutting the large, oak door silently behind him. His mouth fell open as he surveiled the dark, spinning cloud.
Shades, he¡¯s done it.
The thought of being far away while Xilor returned to his full might was a compelling one. He could run, but the chances of being found were high. If the Betrayer wasn¡¯t present when Xilor returned, there¡¯d be no escaping his wrath. The dark lord would hunt him down without remorse before turning his attention back to his envisioned war. For him, the war never ended, just halted. He¡¯d resume, and Ralloc would reel in the sudden onslaught.
The Betrayer¡¯s eyes flickered, wavering from the dark band of smoke and the mirror. He offered up a silent prayer.
Whatever gods or god may be up there, please let him fail, and I swear, I¡¯ll make things right.
¡°Bring forth my soul, Vlukus, and let us be done with it,¡± Xilor commanded.
The Betrayer¡¯s breathing came in rapid pants, his throat constricting. Please, let him fail; please, let him fail; please, let him fail, he chanted to himself.
The dense fog rolled across the foyer, surrounding the ornate mirror, expanding, consuming nearly all the light in the vast hall. A cold, impenetrable darkness spread.
The mirror, Xilor¡¯s prison for many years, was tall and broad. The frame was made of white-rose, a tree only found deep in elyfian territory near the Virgin Lands. The wood¡¯s name came from the color and texture of the wood; the exterior stark white like bone while the interior shifted in color from pale pink to vivid red to a deep reddish brown core. Elaborate carvings of gods and animals beautified the frame, each figurine a medley of hues, giving the ornaments a life of blood and snow.
While white-rose graced the most visible aspect of the mirror, the sides were crafted from shadow wood, found in the forest of the Trees of Life and Shadow. Blacker than coal, from bark to core, served as side paneling with etched magical runes and inlaid with gold. Four legs sporting four curved feet made of platinum served as the base of the mirror. A guide rail supported the mirror on the floor so it couldn¡¯t be easily toppled.
¡°Yes!¡± Xilor¡¯s voice screeched from within the gloom. The fog spun around the mirror, building speed.
¡°Release me!¡± a dark, gruff voice filled the chambers. The Betrayer shuddered as if cold. The malevolence infiltrated the air, clinging to every surface, festering in his lungs. Evil of the purest form.
A sudden urge to gag stole over him. He felt sick. Why couldn¡¯t anyone else feel it? The fog turned into an obsidian sphere, the surface glossy, inky. All sense of movement ceased but the Betrayer knew better. The chamber shook. A gush of wind ripped through, the wall beside the Betrayer groaned from the stress, trembling from the strain.
¡°Release me!¡± the demonic voice screamed again.
A cold sweat broke over the Betrayer¡¯s body. He shivered. Ice poured down his spine, clenching his innards. The voice still boomed, resonating in the chamber, building to a crescendo. A hum pierced the room, a vibration, an irritant even in his teeth! The floor fractured at his side, cracking, a spiderweb of dust and fragments.
What little light managed to survive the onslaught folded in the expanding blackness. The Betrayer scrutinized Sidjuous as he fell to the floor in a fetal position, rocking back and forth, burying his face with the black cloth in his hands. A scream echoed out, not from Sidjuous¡ªa scream not of a man, but omnipresent.
A burst of bright amethyst fire broke through the obsidian sphere, the silver looking-glass blowing out. In a rush, the darkness retreated to the furthest corner of the room. Shards of silver spewed forth. The silhouette of a man, a ghost or apparition floated forward, too small to be Xilor. The ghostly figure shook violently before submerging into the vessel, Xilor¡¯s form-fitted coffin. Smoke billowed from the casket like rising steam.
A hand breached the sarcophagus, clamping down on the railing, pulling the body out of the confines. The Betrayer gazed in horror as the pale, pink flesh turned ashen gray, riddled with blue veins tunneling the length of his body. Xilor¡¯s face remained unformed, his eye sockets a deepening gray and turning black. The flesh around his lips grew taut, peeling back over his teeth in a vicious sneer.
The Betrayer was so engrossed by what he witnessed that the sudden flurry of black cloth snapped him out of his revery. Sidjuous moved to robe Xilor, throwing the hood over his still forming face. The Betrayer exhaled, the horror easing out of him now that he couldn¡¯t distinguish the dark lord¡¯s face. A sick fascination ran through him, wondering what he¡¯d look like when the transformation came to full fruition.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!
The fiend stood to full height.
A cold panic flooded the Betrayer. It¡¯d been many years since he¡¯d seen Xilor in the flesh, but there was no mistaking him. He towered above Sidjuous. The deep shadows of his hood turned towards the Betrayer, and he froze, hoping to go unnoticed. There was a perceptible dip of the cowl.
Was that recognition or just my imagination?
¡°I told you, Sidjuous,¡± Xilor sneered. ¡°I told you I¡¯d return, even though you doubted me.¡± Smoke from the sarcophagus swirled around him, ruffling his black robes.
¡°My lord.¡± The Betrayer watched Sidjuous cower at his master¡¯s feet. There was no mistaking the terror in his voice. Sidjuous had always doubted. The Betrayer hadn¡¯t. He always knew one day, somehow, Xilor would manage it. He was grateful that it was now rather than later, a hope manifesting in Judas Lakayre still being alive. The warlock stopped him once, he could do so again, but could he stop the dark lord permanently?
¡°All is forgiven but never forgotten, Sidjuous.¡±
¡°Master,¡± Sidjuous trembled.
Xilor stepped over the broken shards, his long robes trailing across the glass, a slight tinkling sound rustled in his wake. ¡°Cleverly crafted deceit is lost on you, that¡¯s why you remain. I still have uses for you.¡± The looming shadow walked away from his cowering servant and stepped in front of the Betrayer. A quiver of trepidation ran through him.
¡°Surprised, Turncoat?¡± Xilor inquired. The Betrayer imagined a sneer curling across his unformed lips.
¡°Should I be?¡± Oh gods, what the fuck did I just say?
¡°As always, you¡¯re never unnerved. I expected as much, unless you count the first time we met.¡±
¡°I hide my emotions well, my lord,¡± the Betrayer said cautiously.
Shades of the Underworld don¡¯t kill me, not yet! We¡¯re fucked, we¡¯re all so fucked!
¡°Really? Funny, isn¡¯t it? I only detect a trace of anxiety from you, but my apprentice¡¡± he motioned to Sidjuous who still trembledwith fear, ¡°is still affected by me and you aren¡¯t? Why?¡±
Thinking fast, he blurted. ¡°The duties I perform in your name have dulled that edge.¡±
¡°Really? Accustomed are we? Or does your concern lay elsewhere?¡±
¡°A man who lives in fear doesn¡¯t live at all.¡±
Xilor¡¯s head cocked to the side. ¡°You don¡¯t fear me but another, one you perceive more powerful. Would it be Judas Lakayre?¡±
¡°No, my lord!¡±
¡°We shall see, Turncoat. And if you don¡¯t dread me, you¡¯ll learn to again.¡±
Xilor turned his attention away, scanning the room. ¡°Ah, Derms. My faithful goblin servant.¡± The dark lord glided in his direction. ¡°I shall reward you, my pet.¡±
Derms bowed low and spoke reverently. ¡°An honor it is to serve you, master.¡±
Xilor turned to the next person in line. ¡°Clan King Niam, did you enjoy the dark moments ago? Deeper than any you have ever encountered.¡±
¡°Yes, rich with coldness; it rejuvenated me,¡± Niam said. Niam was the king of the vampires. By direct edict from Xilor, the vampires attacked Dlad City, reigniting the ancient war.
¡°You did well on your raid. Make sure your service never falters. I¡¯ll hold your attack as a line by which to measure your future assignments.¡±
He turned away from Niam, scanning the room. A hiss of disgust escaped the gloom beneath his hood. ¡°The Witchen beast-riders of the Grymulohr phyles failed to answer my summons. I won¡¯t forgive this transgression. They¡¯ll get what is coming to them.¡± Circling where he stood, he called out, ¡°Where are my xicx?¡±
¡°Most try not to disturb the Kothlere Order. They¡¯re afraid if they¡¯re caught¡ª¡± Sidjuous explained, rising to his feet.
¡°They have something new to fear!¡± Xilor screamed. ¡°Never mind, I cannot stand to listen to you talk,¡± Xilor said with contempt. He shushed him, this eliciting a giggle from Olga.
¡°High One,¡± Vlukus spoke up from the fog in the corner.
¡°I shall fulfill my promise this night,¡± Xilor promised.
¡°Why not now, Powerful One?¡± Vlukus countered.
Silence ensued, a brittle sliver. No one stirred.
Xilor broke the tense, growing atmosphere. ¡°I shall walk my halls first.¡±
Perplexity rippled through the room. The Betrayer scrutinized the dark lord as he left the chambers, hushed misgivings furled.
¡°Find the xicx and bring them to me!¡± he ordered.
A shudder ran down his spine when the dark lord glanced his way before exiting. If anything, Xilor wasn¡¯t nostalgic. He probably wanted to gloat, a meaningless gesture to his underlings. No, Xilor yearned to boast to someone who he held in regard, someone like his old master, Hadius Lacove. Again, the Betrayer shuddered, knowing what cruel fate the tyrant visited upon his elder. To the world, and the rest in Gryzlaud Palace, Hadius was dead.
Secrets bear a cost, and the tariff for initiation was high; in this case, his life. But Xilor had been gone a long time, and secrets have a way of circumventing their trammels. If the dark lord realized the Betrayer knew Hadius still lived, a swift and terrible retribution overshadowed his near future.
Letting out a breath of relief, the Betrayer sagged against the wall and waited for the coming storm.
Chapter 41: Behold, I am Death
The towering despot scanned the distant horizons, searching for a familiar presence. Xilor stood alone on his terrace, facing the west. The breeze clutched at his robes, the frail gust running invisible fingers through the cloth. Above, the stars twinkled, their delicate light unappreciated and cruelly spurned.
Minor trickles called out to him, faint traces of auras. He could feel them, could they sense him? The subtlest aura echoed from the north, in the distant capital, wan but obvious Judas had been there. His exploration guided him away from Ralloc to the southwest, towards the notorious warlock¡¯s manor. There, strong tendrils hooked Xilor, drawing him in, attempting to siphon him. He smirked. Undoubtedly, the wards he placed at his residence. Yet, Xilor only sensed an echo of his presence.
His gaze shifted, following the sporadic, faded trail from Dlad City to Cape Gythmel and finally to the Corridor. The trail he followed was like a striation of light in his mind¡¯s eye, the longer Judas remained at a location, the brighter the glow became. A quick layover only peppered his vision in a muted shimmer. It wasn¡¯t until he traced him to the Corridor that he felt another presence.
A proteg¨¦? Xilor speculated.
With keen interest, he followed them to the Swamp of Sorrows where they toiled until the other presence shown like a beacon in the night. Xilor mentally reached out to caress the essence. Upon first touch, a violent recoil shot through him, jerking away. The essence arched out, a bolt searing him. He reached again, a delicate probe, compensating for the impending surge. A glimmer of smugness overcame him. The aura was nothing like he¡¯d ever experienced before, unbridled, untamed, prominent. Once properly trained, the marvel would be a force to reckon with.
Not a proteg¨¦, Xilor amended to himself. A prodigy.
Xilor followed the new essence as long as he could, leaving the swamp before becoming obscured from his sight. He searched in vain. Disgruntled, his regard shifted to Judas. His own essence flickered and vanished, moving to the east and came to stop at Wizard¡¯s Pass. A smile spread across his face.
You¡¯ve come so close and won¡¯t slip my fingers. Xilor bent his magic to his will and teleported to his throne room.
¡°Vlukus,¡± the sorcerer called. ¡°I shall fulfill my promise to you!¡±
¡°You bring greatness to your name.¡±
¡°My name is already great,¡± Xilor corrected, a note of disgust entering his voice. ¡°And when I¡¯m done transforming this world, everyone will know it, too.¡± His anger shimmered beneath his composure, and he savored it, letting it build, but he wouldn¡¯t release it, not yet. He¡¯d let it fester, feeding it, preparing for its release. ¡°Failure has its consequences, Vlukus.¡±
Xilor turned his gaze to the xicx who heeded his edict and returned to his palace. Though their faces were covered with the skulls of dead animals, they animated, displaying the emotions beneath. Terror gripped them now, an initiative for unquestionable obedience.
Xilor lowered himself on his throne, his back rigid and straight. His hands rested daintily on the arms. ¡°Where were you in my most desperate hour?¡±
¡°Master, we¡ª¡±
¡°Silence! You incompetent fool. Did I tell you to speak?¡± Xilor¡¯s scrutiny pierced the trembling xicx before him.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
¡°No, master, no! Forgiveness, I beg!¡± The xicx flung toward the hem of Xilor¡¯s robes. Before he could reach him, Xilor moved his feet beyond reach.
¡°You dare to touch me?¡± Xilor scoffed. He rose, a slow and smooth movement. ¡°You failed me with incompetence, and you arrogantly flaunted my summons.¡± He held out his skeletal, ash colored hand, fingers poised to cut deep into the Xcix¡¯s flesh like daggers. They hovered, waiting.
He slowly spread his fingers apart, the xicx morphed, stretching. Sickening pops pierced the hush. The dark fog slowed, becoming still as it watched. Screams bellowed from the victim; mangled flesh tore, the wet noises drowned out by wails of anguish. Bones ground together, snapping, puncturing skin and clothing.
¡°This is the price of failure, Vlukus,¡± Xilor informed. His right hand reached through the chest of his victim, pulling out the spine and skull. The limp body fell to the floor. Clawed hands squeezed the skull, shattering the blood covered ivory. Brain matter slithered out between the cracks, clinging to his fingers.
Xilor tossed the remains on the steps and turned to face the gathered. Without prompting, each knelt, heads bowed. Xilor called to the hovering fog. ¡°What you wish is still yours. Are you certain?¡±
A slight hesitation. ¡°Yes.¡±
In a fluid motion, the grisly wand cleared his robes, a blast of energy erupting from the tip. The wand was fashioned out of several black, twisted metal pieces, spiraling around the core and bound in the curved hilt.
The fog segregated, breaking up to form individual clouds, shaping and solidifying into new beings conjured from Xilor¡¯s endless dark imagination. Shapes emerged carrying the same hue as the oily miasma.
The channeled conjury ceased abruptly, like halting in the middle of expounding soliloquy. Fatigue washed over Xilor; he stumbled, legs trembling. He shuddered, then slumped forward, taxed by the excess of power that left him, and the throne broke his fall. He called his rage, bolstering his strength.
The abyssians, newly embodied, scuttled and thrashed about, growing accustomed to the sudden equilibrium and legs. Corrupt, perverse hybrids, that of man and centaur. Six legs shot out from their flanks and splayed like spindly spider limbs. A strong, lithe body supported the torso of a man with arms. The hands boasted two large, wide fingers and an opposable thumb. Long, curving nails extended from the fingers, sharp enough to lacerate flesh. Reptilian scales covered the body to include the face. A long snout protruded, lined with serrated teeth; the end of the lower jaw extended beyond the top and curled towards the face, forming a deadly hook. A crest as hard as stone sprouted from the back of the head, curving downward, flaring out, protecting the back of the neck.
One abyssian gingerly stepped forward, still unsure of his feet. ¡°High One,¡± he rasped.
¡°Vlukus.¡± Xilor rose to his feet.
The abyssian lowered his body to the deck. ¡°You have our allegiance, Master.¡±
¡°I¡¯ll use you as needed. Until I send you out, you¡¯re to remain here at the palace. Am I understood?¡±
¡°Completely.¡±
¡°Your bodies are extraordinary,¡± Xilor declared. ¡°Your tongue has healing properties in your saliva to heal wounds from battle. Your legs can carry you at high speeds and help defy gravity. We¡¯ll put such wonders to test later. When in war, like gambling, you don¡¯t reveal your entire hand at once. But now, I have a task for you.¡± Vlukus rose and neared Xilor. Bending at the waist, Xilor relayed his instructions.
¡°It shall be done, High One.¡± Vlukus turned and retreated from the hall, his abyssians following on his heels. The clacking of their six legs against the stone was the only noise disturbing the somber setting.
Xilor lifted his head to others in the room. ¡°Leave me.¡±
The xicx, various attendants, and apprentices departed, filing out of the room with haste. When the door shut behind the last minion, Xilor turned to his shattered mirror. With a wave of his wand, the pieces reformed. The seamless glass glowed bright yellow-green.
¡°I¡¯m free,¡± Xilor rasped through the Psimond, knowing the whole realm witnessed. ¡°I¡¯ll have revenge on every mortal in the realm.¡± He relented, stepping closer to the mirror. ¡°Here¡¯s my promise to you. All will die. None will be spared, no man, woman, or child, creature or pet. Genocide and enslavement await you all. Nothing will be left in the wake, except the person or persons that deliver Judas Lakayre to me, alive!¡±
Chapter 42: Beyond Reach & Chapter 43: Wizards Pass
Judas woke to an empty camp. A wave of cold panic swept through him. Multiple times, he called for Julie, and the only answer was the echo of his hoarse voice. He stretched out through their bond and learned two important things: she still lived, and whatever barrier kept her from reaching her full potential had shattered. Somehow, she managed to shroud her presence, and he couldn¡¯t get an exact location or direction. Her aura radiated everywhere, like reflections in mirrors surrounding an individual. No matter which way you looked, the reflected image continued forever.
He closed his eyes, searching in vain. The vast presence he always sensed in her was bound. Now, an unrelenting current poured into her, a torrent. He hadn¡¯t felt this in anyone for a long time, not since the destruction of Xilor, and the death of his friend, the king. After the initial shock wore off, he reached out again for her.
What he could sense troubled him. Julie fortified her mind in a way she never previously achieved, but sporadic bursts of feelings bled through. Controlled yet uncontrolled. She burned brightly in his mind, like a beacon, but fading the more distance she put between them. He glimpsed her resolve, her fears and worries cast aside.
Perhaps, Judas mused, the fairies¡¯ myth is true.
¡°You won¡¯t find her,¡± a small voice spoke, scarcely louder than a whisper but tinkled like wind chimes. Judas turned and faced the small floating pixie.
¡°Is this your doing?¡± he demanded.
¡°No, but it was meant to happen. Even you cannot fight a fate foretold.¡±
¡°Bah! Fate! I should¡¯ve never listened to the elder fairy. What did you do to her?¡±
¡°Nothing, Warlock Lakayre. What happened was destined to happen regardless.¡±
¡°Do you think you can keep her from me? She¡¯s mine to protect, to train! I told the elder fairy this when she came to her!¡±
¡°Train? Like you trained her for the Corridor? You didn¡¯t realize that she wasn¡¯t a Plotus mage!¡±
¡°There were extenuating circumstance¡ª¡±
¡°¡ªLike you protected her from the assassination attempt?¡±
¡°Again, that¡ª¡±
¡°¡ªLike you protected her from the Corridor and all its horrors? From the likes of Mr. Pleasure? You¡¯ve lost touch with what it means to be a teacher!¡± the fairy scolded him.
¡°It¡¯s not my place to interfere!¡± he objected. The feeling in his gut confirmed the pixie¡¯s truth. The guilt he held for allowing the Corridor to test her beyond her abilities festered like an open sore in his soul. Gangrenous. ¡°It wasn¡¯t supposed to happen. How was I supposed to know what it would do?¡±
¡°You didn¡¯t, but you could stop it. Where were your morals, then?¡± Judas said nothing and let his legs give out, collapsing to the ground. She fluttered closer, wings sounding like a whistle, and landed in front of him. ¡°Don¡¯t ridicule yourself too much warlock; you did as foretold.¡±
¡°Where? Where did it say that I¡¯d allow her to be tortured?¡±
¡°Actions are fluid, not stone, but we prophesied what you allowed to happen, long ago. All events, all planes of possibilities converge on her. It would happen another way, by another means, regardless of your actions.¡±
¡°Who else would drag her through the Corridor? No one!¡±
¡°Who said it¡¯d be the scarrings of the Corridor? Perhaps another wizardkind left the scars? Maybe elyves? Sheol? What if I told you ¡ had it been anyone else from other possibilities that she¡¯d be physically scared, deformed? What if, by someone else¡¯s hand, she turned into something worse than Xilor and killed everyone who opposed her?¡±
¡°I¡¯d be required to kill her.¡±
¡°Yes, you¡¯d hunt her down. But your blinding quality to see the good in everyone would prevent you from taking decisive action, and in the end, years would¡¯ve melted by before you came to the precipice of choice. By then, she¡¯d be able to destroy you.¡±
¡°How do you know?¡±
¡°I don¡¯t. We¡¯re talking conjectures, Warlock.¡±
¡°If we¡¯re talking conjectures, if she journeyed with someone else, nothing would have happened.¡±
¡°Alas, no.¡± The fairy shifted her weight, taking a step forward. ¡°You have something that belongs to us. We want it back, now.¡±
Nodding, Judas called his pack to him, digging out the item she wished for. After a few moments, he pulled the small crystalline wing out and handed it to her. She took the wing in her hands, inspecting the last remains of an Elder fairy. With a flutter of her wings, she rose from the ground.
¡°Heed my warning, Warlock Lakayre. Trials await her. She must be molded and shaped into what she is to become. What she has to become. You will do more harm than good if you reach out to her. Stay away! We will be with her now¡ªas it¡¯s our duty to our Head of Creatures. She¡¯s our prophesied one, meant to become what she will. If you come after her, we¡¯ll hide her from your sight, but for now, take solace that we grant you that ability. Break our edict, and we¡¯ll revoke the blessing!¡±
¡°And what is that? What¡¯s she supposed to become?¡± he croaked.
¡°She¡¯ll be a balance of darkness and light, a champion of life and a harbinger of death. Stay away, Lakayre, or you¡¯ll do more harm than good.¡± She hovered in front of his face before fading into nothing.
Alone in the swamp, an anguished cry echoed out.
Chapter 43:
Wizard¡¯s Pass wasn¡¯t the most legendary of villages, but the cozy reprieve was like a part of home, despite being so far from a civilized municipality. Many people deemed the small settlement as a haven to retire from the bustling life of the city. Those who didn¡¯t retire here often visited.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.
T¡¯son Hans, in his role as the local barkeeper, mused over his luck at working in such a place. Most were oblivious to his colorful past,and he planned to keep his secrets.
The door burst open. Towel in his hand forgotten, the wet ale mug dripped on the floor, and a lone figure stood in the doorway.
¡°Well, com¡¯n an¡¯ shut th¡¯ door, will ya?¡± T¡¯son said with his thick accent. Someone not from their village wouldn¡¯t understand what he said. Most of the time, he played it up¡ªhe could speak passably well, but when excited, his thick accent returned in force.
The figure stepped inside, closing the door behind him. T¡¯son¡¯s eyes adjusted to the darkness again. ¡°Well, if it ain¡¯t an archangel, then it¡¯s got t¡¯be Warlock Judas!¡±
¡°Greetings, T¡¯son.¡± Judas shuffled forward, his feet heavy, mood solemn. ¡°I told you I¡¯d come.¡± He hid his emotions under an expressionless mask, but his voice failed to obscure them completely.
¡°Y¡¯ur ¡®prentice, whur¡¯ is she?¡±
¡°Gone.¡±
¡°E¡¯en tho¡¯ ya¡¯ gone all noble ¡®n us backwoods fo¡¯ks, ya still got ya¡¯ sense o¡¯ humor, I see. Whut can I git for ya¡¯? ¡¯Ow ¡®bout a good, col¡¯ ¡¯warf ¡¯ew, er¡ªmaybe a Bloo¡¯y Vampur?¡±
¡°Not today, T¡¯son; I don¡¯t feel much like drinking.¡±
¡°Oh, one of tho¡¯ things. Well, I¡¯d like to spot ¡¯em hooey snooty c¡¯me down ¡®ere an¡¯ tries ta¡¯ su¡¯vive. They won¡¯t. Thur ta fancy an¡¯ got all thur delicacies¡¡±
Judas let out a weary sigh as he sat down opposite his friend. T¡¯son looked him over, and for the first time, he noticed his less-than-jovial mood.
¡°Shades! You weren¡¯t jokin¡¯,¡± T¡¯son exclaimed, dropping his thick accent. ¡°Ya¡¯ look like shit! Wha¡¯s th¡¯ matter wit¡¯ ya¡¯?¡±
¡°My apprentice. She¡¯s gone. I failed her more than I¡¯ve ever failed in my life.¡±
¡°Oi! Don¡¯ be so hard on ya¡¯ self. It can¡¯ be tha¡¯ bad.¡±
¡°You don¡¯t understand T¡¯son; I let terrible things happen to her. I failed her in the Corridor. I should¡¯ve stepped in and stopped the madness ¡ and now, she¡¯s gone. She left because I abandoned her when she needed me.¡±
¡°Oi! Shu¡¯ it! I¡¯ve known ya a lon¡¯ time, Judas, thru¡¯ thick an¡¯ thin, in good an¡¯ bad, an¡¯ when th¡¯ whole of Ermaeyth wa¡¯ thrown in ta chaos, an¡¯ never once did ya fail ta see the good in people. Even when they don¡¯ deserve it. Ya give the shirt off ya back to clothe someone less fortunate than ya. I don¡¯ pretend ta know wha¡¯ happened, but I know tha¡¯ yur lawful. Too lawful for ma likes¡ªbut ever¡¯one has ta have some fault¡ªan¡¯ ya moral to ya core, and tha¡¯ is somethin¡¯ as sure as the risin¡¯ suns. Ya made a soun¡¯ judgment based on the facts at han¡¯. If she lef¡¯, an¡¯ lef¡¯ angry, eventually she¡¯ll know ya had the bes¡¯ intensions at he¡¯rt. She¡¯ll remember in the en¡¯; they all do.¡±
Judas gave a weak smile. ¡°Was that speech something you had prepared beforehand?¡±
¡°Always had tha¡¯ speech prepared fur ya¡ªages really, ya jus¡¯ never needed it till now.¡±
Judas¡¯s smile broadened and swiftly fell. ¡°I just can¡¯t¨D¡±
¡°Oi! Enuff! No sense dwellin¡¯ on the pas¡¯; it¡¯s fur the dead. The future is a youn¡¯ virgin too far away ta care abou¡¯, bu¡¯ thur¡¯s no time like fuck¡¯n¡¯ in the presen¡¯.¡±
¡°Fucking in the present? That¡¯s it? There isn¡¯t a line to come after that?¡±
¡°No, ya ass, it¡¯s a play on wor¡¯s. Shades, ya thick.¡± T¡¯son laughed heartily at that, and Judas couldn¡¯t help but laugh too.
After T¡¯son coaxed Judas out of his shell of lament, he served his long-time friend many drinks, drowning the stress and anxiety of losing Julie. His mind was filled with regret, and T¡¯son could discern the shadow in his eyes, the haunted anguish, but the foreigner steered him clear of anything that¡¯d bring up the events of the Corridor or his apprentice. When it was evident that he couldn¡¯t accomplish this, T¡¯son asked him how the consul, Kayis Dathyr, was doing, and if they were friends again. That started Judas on an uproar, grandstanding his detest of his old apprentice. The conversation switched to politics and the lost cause the Kothlere Order had become before digressing to the real reason he was here.
¡°Wha¡¯ ya come ¡®ere for? Not order¡¯n¡¯ ya aroun¡¯ righ¡¯?¡±
¡°Yes, well, the finer points of exile is lost upon the ignorant, but no, not orders. I got to see you again, always a plus. Unfortunately, war is coming.¡±
¡°Ah, ya talkin¡¯ abou¡¯ the broadcas¡¯, aren¡¯ ya?¡±
¡°What broadcast?¡±
T¡¯son quickly summarized the events of Xilor¡¯s realm wide broadcast. ¡°So, he finally did it. He¡¯s out.¡± Judas rubbed his temples to knead out the building stress. ¡°I warned them that this would happen. Are you prepared? Do you have any men available?¡±
¡°¡®Course. They haven¡¯ been doin¡¯ nothin¡¯ since the las¡¯ attack¡ªno¡¯ since the war. Thur all slouchin¡¯ aroun¡¯ ¡®ere somewhur, gettin¡¯ all fat an¡¯ bored.¡±
¡°Good, call them here. We need to be prepared just in case, and if Xilor¡¯s out, then it may be too late!¡±
T¡¯son scurried across the wood-planked floorboards of his humble, rickety establishment. It wasn¡¯t the nicest place, never came close, but it was T¡¯son. Compared to the grandeur of Ralloc, this equated to a horse stall. But Judas also felt comfortable here, even with the dark swirl of thoughts shrouding his mood. Worries washed away in the simple life they held here.
T¡¯son reached the front doors and flung them open. He yelled. ¡°Oi! Drabass! Get yur rott¡¯n, sodd¡¯n bottom up in the pub. Ge¡¯ all ¡®em;Sergyn¡¯ of th¡¯ Guards, too!¡±
Judas covered a smile in the palm of his hand. T¡¯son screaming at his underlings brought back fond memories for the warlock, remembering where they met, on the deck of T¡¯son¡¯s ship on Judas¡¯s maiden voyage. The trading ship was christened Floating Dreams, and T¡¯son ferried cargo from port to port, out on the open sea or up and down the rivers. When times were tough, the former kaptyn smuggled people, weapons, and other rare, off-limits items. He recalled T¡¯son¡¯s tale about being the only one ever to venture out into Lake Feral and make it back out alive.
Much later, Judas learned how T¡¯son¡¯s made his income. Their main means came from raiding pirates, looting their pillage, consuming the goods, and absorbing the less dangerous crew members. The others, the kaptyns, first mates, and the loyal crew, were placed in shackles and returned to the nearest port for the bounties. Occasionally, they¡¯d hire themselves out for private purposes. T¡¯son and his crew were merchants, smugglers, and even mercenaries, but under T¡¯son¡¯s banner, they managed to be the good guys, just not lawfully validated.
T¡¯son would still be sailing had he not lost the two loves of his life. His first mate¡ªwho was also his wife¡ªand then his ship, when his cousin, Oslo Hans, won it from him in a card game. Upon winning the ship, Oslo renamed it The Keeling Bitch. After that, T¡¯son took his earnings from all those years at sea, chose a town, and settled down to make a home.
Judas looked up as T¡¯son returned to the bar.
In short but precise order, all the men and women gathered to hear the governor and Judas explain the possible impending war. Many were disbelieving, though some did, hearing about the vampire¡¯s attack on Dlad City. The news of Judas¡¯s public shaming in Ralloc had reached Wizard¡¯s Pass, the consul calling him a renegade and menace in the hopes that someone would warn Ralloc if he showed up.
¡°Look,¡± Judas said in exasperation, ¡°is it so hard to believe that a second war is possible? Xilor is out; he made a broadcast, apparently one that I missed. Maybe it has to do with the fairies.¡±
¡°Fairies?¡±
Judas waved T¡¯son¡¯s comment away. ¡°He¡¯ll be coming for blood.¡± Murmurs rippled through the gathering, some agreeing and others not. For confirmation, all turned to T¡¯son, hoping he¡¯d renounce or reaffirm what Judas said.
¡°Why ya lookin¡¯ at me fur? I ain¡¯t any po¡¯erful mage, jus¡¯ a gov¡¯nor. If Judas says it is, then it is.¡±
¡°You can stand and fight, or you can run,¡± Judas said. ¡°The victor of the first battle, wherever it may be, will determine the motion of the war. We must do what we can for anyone who wants to travel through the Corridor or make it to a coastal city where they can sail to relative safety. By nightfall, I want decisions on whether people are preparing for fortifications or fleeing.¡±
Chapter 44: Julie
Setting off on her own seemed like a good idea at the time. The book made persuasive and sound arguments. The luring promise of more knowledge and power intrigued her, considering her unsuccessful tutelage under Judas. With the block removed from her essence and the emotional damage temporarily sealed away, a future without the warlock seemed bright.
The suns blazed above and rivulets of sweat poured in fat droplets from her brow. Her hair hugged the sides of her face, her legs cramped, and her lungs burned from exertion. Leaving resembled less and less like a promising ephiphany.
If only I had a horse. Or if I could just teleport there!
The journey provided plenty of time to look back on her fight with the saricrocian; she¡¯d been lucky not to kill herself with her haphazard winks and decided not to chance injury to herself until she had a better grasp.
She quarreled with her rationale for leaving Judas, but justification came through her anger and misgivings.
Is it possible to mistrust someone, and even hate what they¡¯ve done, but still like that person?
Her gullibility and optimistic outlook got the better of her. Now, she wondered if the book did the same, preying upon her weaknesses. The thought tumbled through her head like a never-ending echo as the leagues dwindled.
She had a vague sense of direction. The book gave her a point to march towards and then retreated within itself, returning to its silent state. Even her mental screams failed to rouse it. The thought crossed her mind that it was nothing more than a messenger, its only function to find her, reveal itself, and specify the proper path. Would it speak again if she changed course, or strayed too far from the objective? Though an intriguing consideration, she didn¡¯t relish the ill-conceived notion of walking in the opposite direction. Besides, she ached too much to try.
Another puzzle troubling her was that Judas hadn¡¯t caught up with her.
Is he even looking for me? For someone as powerful as him, it should be a simple task of tracking me down through magic.
When she last laid eyes on the sleeping warlock, he seemed more feeble than she remembered, a thought she contributed to her newfound prowess.
The book did many things for me¡ªmost of all, opened my eyes.
A new path to discover Ermaeyth lay ahead of her, and she wanted to approach it, like the rest of her life, with eyes open.
Julie trekked many leagues through rolling prairie the first day. With her feet sore from the moderate pace, she slowed to relieve the throbbing pain. By sheer luck, the fortune of the bold, or grand design, she crossed paths with a caravan. When they pulled within hailing range, greetings and a few words were exchanged, a bargain struck, and Julie hitched a ride. Far Point, the nearest town, was still many leagues off. The journey would take days on horseback. She¡¯d die of dehydration long before she reached her destination.
The master of the caravan voiced his exorbitant fee of a silver chip for a ride and food. While outrageous, she graciously accepted the theft for a reprieve from certain death. Days trickled by in the tedium of a swaying wagon, constantly interrupted by the giggles and crying of children. One mother, in particular, had only one volume with her children: too loud. She shouted at them from the time the suns came up until they went down, making Julie reevaluate her decision to join them.
If I ever have kids, she pleaded with the deities above, please let me be a better mother than that!
Early one evening, they ground to a halt near a river bend. Unable to take the stench of her clothing or body anymore, she decided to bathe. Though she had no soap, she went without, forgoing the gouging prices of the master, who wanted five copper bits. While the families set up pots and children either helped or played, Julie slipped away with her possessions, hoping her departure went unnoticed.
The water ran low, more of a weaving stream through a gully than the prominent river it once had been. The shore, once part of the riverbed, was littered with large, flat stones, smooth from erosion, and hedged in shrubs and tall, wild grass. Julie wove her way down the trail, grateful that a hill separated her from the expedition, though it offered little in the way of privacy. The shore, she noted, boasted several large depressions filled with shallow water, perhaps coming to her knee in the center. The suns ensured warm shallows. A few paces away, the flushing stream gurgled, cool to the touch. With the unforgiving heat, Julie decided on the latter.
Pack discarded, she shed her robes, debating on trying to wash the filth and stink out of them. Without any soap, it would be a near useless gesture and waded them up to discard later. They were too ruined to keep. With a cursory glance behind her, she confirmed her solitude. With deft fingers, she pulled the sash of her bosom wrap, letting her undergarments fall to the stony shore.
In haste, she entered the cool water. The gentle surges rippled around her, smooth and fresh. She dipped below the surface, holding her breath. She ran her fingers through her hair, hoping to get out whatever the swamp managed to embed. Underwater, her hair felt smooth and silky. The itch in her lungs implored her to return to the surface. The water breached, she gasped sweet air. The wind flickered, snaking through the gully, kissing her flesh. Goosebumps honeycombed her body, her nipples hardening. She splashed her face, rubbing the sweat and grime away. Dipping below again, her hands dragged the bed, scooping up silt and rubbed between her toes, under her arms, and anywhere she could reach. She methodically scoured her flesh as best as she could, requiring many returns topside; each time the sharp and cold wind licked her skin, her teeth chattered.
Before long, the water was too cold to continue, and remembering the shallows, she clambered out of the river. The pack obscuring her body, she half-huddled, half-shuffled, to the shallow, sinking in a rush. Because of the lack of depth, to cover her entire body, she laid on her stomach. The warm water chased the gooseflesh away from her icy limbs.
She basked in the warmth but for a few minutes, worried that someone would discover her. The river¡¯s depth could obscure her body, but the shallows failed to have an advantage other than warmth.
From her bag, she pulled out a pair of garments. Though she wore them before, they were heavenly to her discarded outfit. As she pulled her undergarment up her legs, a twig snapped behind her. She spun around, catching a young boy of ten or eleven watching her. Her face went red with embarrassment.
¡°Get out of here, you little shit!¡± she screamed. He turned white, fleeing in terror, stumbling his way up the trail. With darting glances, she dressed in haste. Pack on her back and her swamp robes tucked deep in the brambles, she retreated up the hill, her wet hair hanging in clumps.
When she reached the camp, she spied the boy and thought about scolding him when she saw his mother, the loud woman. The last thing Julie fancied was to listen to more of her. Catching the boy¡¯s eye, she narrowed hers before giving him a smirk. The boy was young and curious; she didn¡¯t fault him for that, and relatively no harm was done save her embarrassment. Sporadically, while they traveled, she¡¯d catch the boy glancing her way at various times, a grin on his face, which would bring a fresh surge of warmth to hers.
After what felt like an eternity of torture¡ªthough only six days¡ªthe caravan reached Far Point. With the small city in sight, Julie slipped away and sought the inhabitants of a more civilized and quiet nature. To call it a city was an overstatement. Regardless, she was happy to be there and away from the screaming woman.
An hour before dusk, she walked through the gate where guards surrounded her, but they didn¡¯t raise their weapons. With a clattering of chain mail, they settled about her.
¡°Name,¡± barked the leader.
¡°Julie,¡± she replied, trying to avoid letting her agitation take control. She debated using the fake name from Dlad City, Cynthia Fossard, but she didn¡¯t want to chance someone catching her in a lie without Judas there to aid her.
¡°What kind of name is Julie?¡± one sentry blurted.
The leader shot him a glance before returning to the traveler. ¡°Well, Julie,¡± the leader spoke to her as if she were ignorant, ¡°who are your parents? In these parts, when you introduce yourself, it¡¯s Julie, daughter of so-and-so or Julie of House Piss-pot or whatever name your house has.¡± The others cackled, and she blushed from being chided.
The agitation flared within her, and she decided to fib her way through the gate. ¡°Julie of the Fossard House, and you had best refrain from calling my house a piss pot.¡± She glared at him. ¡°What¡¯s your name, soldier? My father will be very interested to hear what you think of his house.¡±
¡°Forgive my loose tongue, Lady Fossard. It¡¯s been a long day. Please, don¡¯t let us keep you.¡± He gave her a bow of his head and stepped aside. Without wasting any more time, she strolled past them, suppressing her smirk. After a dozen paces or so, she listened to the guards conversing animatedly.
¡°Nice one, jackass.¡±
¡°How was I supposed to know she was a minor noble?¡±
¡°Fucking nobles, the lot of them¡ª¡±
The voices trailed off as the sounds of the town drowned them out. A wagon rumbled by, headed for the gate she entered. Children raced through the streets playing and beggars in stained and ripped clothing sat on the porches of closed shops.
At least they don¡¯t yell.
Other shopkeepers swept their porches, dirt and mire plumed around her as she passed. Her head swiveled as she walked down the cobblestone road, the town¡¯s main street. A thin layer of dirt covered the street; the grit crunched with each of her steps. All other roads were still dirt and rutted from wagons.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
In front of her, in the distance, she saw a steeple of red clay shingles of the local cathedral towering far above the other buildings. Most, she noted, were made of a combination of wood and stone but spied hovels of wood and mud near the perimeter of town.
As she searched for a place to stay the night, a woman went whizzing by, pulling a boy and a little girl by the ear down the road towards the steeple. Her dark brown hair flashed by.
¡°¡you better pray long and hard to the Father, Mother, and Child for what you¡¯ve done! You¡¯d best beg for forgiveness and mercy,¡± she was saying to the both of them.
At least, she isn¡¯t yelling.
Perplexed, Julie made to follow them when a magnificent noise drew her attention: the sounds of laughter and of pewter tankards slamming down on wooden tables. A musical instrument played, sustaining the backdrop. The jingle of gold, silver, and bronze scrapping on tabletops was music to her ears.
She adjusted course and followed the sounds and, eventually, the smells to a three-story building made of wood and stone with a sign out in front that stretched the width of the establishment.
¡°Traveler¡¯s Haven,¡± she murmured.
She pushed open one of the two front doors made of oak and glass and entered the establishment. All eyes drifted to her and settled for half a moment before turning their gazes back to what they were doing. With cautious eyes, she swept the place, noting the filled tables, but they paid her no further heed, attention turning back to the musician. Relaxing, she headed for the bar. The aroma of pork simmering in a sauce wafted through the air; wheat bread, warm and inviting, followed on its heels. She took a deep breath, and her stomach rumbled.
¡°Can I help ya?¡± the bartender asked while rubbing down the counter top.
¡°Something to drink, if you please.¡±
¡°Well, what do ya want?¡±
¡°I don¡¯t know. I¡¯ve never been to a pub before, so I couldn¡¯t tell you what I like.¡± She paused for a moment, eyes lingering on the shelf behind him. ¡°Got a menu?¡±
¡°What¡¯s a menu?¡± he echoed, baffled. Then, he pointed to a big plywood board off to the side of the countertop which listed the drinks and the contents of them. ¡°Will ¡¯at help?¡± he commented sarcastically. He went back to wiping down his tankards and bar top again as Julie rolled her eyes and glanced over the board making her choice.
¡°Vampire Dust, if you please.¡±
The bartender set to task and filled her order. Once done, he placed it before her. ¡°Silver chip,¡± he advised.
¡°Chip, my ass! You¡¯re robbing me blind!¡±
¡°That¡¯s the price here, if you don¡¯t pay, I can always call the city watch.¡±
¡°Gek!¡± someone yelled. ¡°Get th¡¯ fuck out from behind ma¡¯ bar.¡± The man who was obviously the bartender, walked around the counter and smacked him on the back of the head. ¡°Fucking thief, I shou¡¯ call th¡¯ guards and have ya¡¯ flogged for taking advantage of a stranger.¡± He hit him again and the younger man scampered off. The new man gave a sheepish smile. ¡°At least, he made ya¡¯ drink right.¡± When Julie tried to pay him, he held his hands up. ¡°On th¡¯ house.¡± He jerked his head towards the boy who tried to rob her. ¡°For Gek¡¯s scheming.¡±
¡°Thank you.¡± She smiled and took a slow, cautious pull of her nip, finding the flavor enjoyable. Her initial sip reminded her of chocolate but subtly changed to coconut. The gray and murky liquid alluded to a cross between milk and the stagnant waters of the swamp.
She turned around and faced the room again, glimpsing the musical instrument that caught her ear earlier. It was stringed and stood on the floor with the musician sitting behind, much like a cello player. Twelve thick strings splayed out like a hand and in between each, another six strings¡ªa total of seventy-two¡ªstretch tautly along the length. Each twelve strings had an individual neck behind the strings so the operator could position their hands to play different sounds and chords. Each string was attached at the top by a cylindrical, metal tube that gave a xylophone-like sound when the instrument vibrated, but instead of the abrupt noise of a xylophone, the bow pulled a slow and drawing sound when strummed.
It was beautiful and pleased her ears. Turning back to the innkeeper, she found him already looking at her.
¡°Not to ya liking?¡± he asked.
She could tell that his breath was bated. ¡°No, no. The drink is fine ¡ I think. I don¡¯t really know, but I like it. No, I was curious about that instrument over there. I¡¯ve never seen one. It¡¯s breathtaking. What¡¯s the name?¡±
¡°Ah,¡± the man cooed, a smile creeping over his face, ¡°ya¡¯, a lovely thing, isn¡¯t it? It¡¯s called a Lylo. Very few people can master it, but th¡¯ ones that can ¡ well, ya can see th¡¯ turn out tonight huh? The man playing it is a traveling musician, and he¡¯ll be making his final stop in Ralloc where he hopes¡ªwith th¡¯ bigger population¡ªthat he can establish a shop there. The word is that he¡¯s from south of the Melodic Mountains.¡±
¡°The Melodic Mountains?¡± Julie echoed, interest piqued.
¡°Ya, but I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s true. Ya never really overhear anyone coming over th¡¯ mountain to get here. Ship maybe. But there are a few who claim to know th¡¯ way through th¡¯ caverns and caves of th¡¯ mountains and get over here.¡±
¡°Interesting,¡± Julie murmured, her mind racing. Her eyes slid out of focus and back in as she thought about her destination. ¡°Tell me, what is the Father, Mother, and Child?¡±
¡°Ya joking, right?¡± he scoffed.
¡°No, I¡¯m not. Tell me about them.¡±
¡°It¡¯s a religion, and a strong one at that, especially in these parts. Th¡¯ Father, Mother, and Child represent a Trinity. Th¡¯ Father is for all that¡¯s good in th¡¯ world, whatever good there may be, and he¡¯s the Father of War, as well as Father of the Ermaeyth, which provides us food. Th¡¯ Father also represents the Present. Th¡¯ Mother exemplifies all th¡¯ evil in the world and is th¡¯ Mother of Death, Famine, and Sickness. She also embodies th¡¯ Past. Th¡¯ Child is th¡¯ Child of Innocence. Th¡¯ Child also equates to Life, Love, Joy, and th¡¯ Future. But th¡¯ great thing about th¡¯ Trinity is that we all came from th¡¯ Father and Mother, we¡¯re th¡¯ Child, and therefore we¡¯re created out of equal proportions of them.¡±
Funny how the woman is the evil one, she mused bitterly.
¡°I don¡¯t understand how the Father who represents good also is the Father of War?¡±
¡°Well, war¡¯s good, depending on how ya look at it,¡± he explained. ¡°If ya go to war with a thirst for blood; well, then ya would be doing th¡¯ Mother¡¯s bidding. But if ya go to war because ya King asks ya to, or to protect ya family and the ones ya love and ya land, then ya doing it for th¡¯ Father.¡±
¡°Interesting,¡± she mused. ¡°And the Child? Is the Child a boy or a girl?¡±
¡°Does it matter? That¡¯s th¡¯ beauty of th¡¯ Trinity, gives no sex a greater advantage over th¡¯ other. Ya have th¡¯ male and th¡¯ female, but th¡¯ child is just a child. All are created equal under the religion.¡±
¡°Are you a follower?¡±
¡°Somewhat. I¡¯m not a pious man, but when something good or bad happens to me, I renew my standing with th¡¯ Trinity.¡±
¡°Are there other religions like this one?¡±
¡°Ya,¡± he said pointedly. ¡°I don¡¯t like to think or talk about them.¡± Julie noted he was upset by her inquiring of other religions, his mood brooding, and his shoulders squared with mild indignation.
That quickly killed their conversation. Julie finished her concoction quietly and set the tankard on the counter as softly as she could, hoping she wouldn¡¯t upset him too much. ¡°Do you have a room free that I could get for the evening?¡± she queried, holding her breath, afraid he might explode on her.
¡°I got a room, ya, but it ain¡¯t free. Ya gotta pay. Four bits and ya can have it. And no, ya can¡¯t barter me down.¡± He pointed behind her to the entrance which she came through.
¡°Four bits! That¡¯s twice as much as Ralloc!¡± She knew this from the Essence Transference Judas performed on her. One of the books covered the economics of Ralloc, printed in the last year.
¡°Yeah? Well, this isn¡¯t Ralloc. There are dozens of inns within spitting distance in Ralloc; there¡¯s only one here. Mine. I¡¯ll throw in a dinner and breakfast if it makes you feel better. Take it or do without.¡±
¡°I¡¯ll take it,¡± she declared and pulled a silver from her pouch. She exchanged the chip for a key and twenty-six bits in return, and he gave her directions to her room. The common room behind her, she headed upstairs to her room, the last door on the left on the second floor. The tub full of water lured her eye first. Giddy, she bolted the door and tossed her pack on the floor by her bed. Without preamble, she stripped and stepped into the clear, steaming water. Heat suffused her body. The room only came with a lump of soap carrying the vague scent of rose petals, a definite step up from bathing in the creek.
She scrubbed her body until pink and washed her hair twice. Upon exiting, she dressed in short order. Back in the common room, she arranged laundering for her clothes on the following day. Since this was the first time on her own, the excitement of something new slithered through her, and she wanted to explore the town before it got too late.
She left through the front doors and walked down the road under a twilight sky. As she ambled past rows of buildings and small homes, she noted some were one story and others two, rarely did she see a three-story building. Most one-story buildings housed two businesses, which seemed to split the renting and the right to own the place.
As her watchful eye drifted from one building to the other, she observed the names on the signs. Every once in a while, she¡¯d see a general goods store, a bookshop, blacksmith, barber, or a clothing store, but the predominant focus of this town was the magic shops. She saw sign after sign advertising more and more of the same, though they looked more like joke shops, full of tricks and mirrors and smoke rather than the genuine article.
By the time the sun went down and the street lamps had been lit by the sentries, she¡¯d toured the whole village and chosen three stores she¡¯d return to: the Sleight of Hand Society, the Conjurer¡¯s Accord, and the Enchanted Allure Guild. Each caught her eye for various reasons.
By looks, the Sleight of Hand Society seemed more than just magic. The windows had heavy curtains and appeared permanently drawn, as if they didn¡¯t want the outside world to know what they taught their students or to steal their tricks. She had the impression it was more tricks than actual art, but it couldn¡¯t hurt to learn a few; she might need them to stay alive.
The Conjurer¡¯s Accord, a well-placed establishment near the center of town, maintained a prestigious look. Whoever owned the place invested a lot of money into the building. The doors were high and thick, crafted out of the darkest brown wood Julie had ever seen. Curtains tied open with gold lace graced the windows which were tall and wide, forming an arch at the top. The interior burned brightly from the candles in the gold chandeliers. From the road, Julie could see winding staircases on either side of the greeting room.
The Enchanted Allure Guild also enticed her eye, but for different reasons. This building was worn and run down but not dilapidated. This establishment boasted three stories. Perhaps in the past it rivaled all others as the most beautiful building in the entire town, but not anymore. In the short time Julie watched the building, the people of the town moved in their nightly routines and skirted the building by a wide margin. They blatantly avoided it, but the why intrigued her most.
Something must¡¯ve happened here for all the people to avoid it so much. Something in the building or to the person who owns it.
Whatever paint graced the building wore away years prior; now, it was gray and splintered from age.
Her mind made up, she advanced to the building and went up its small flight of stairs to the porch. She placed her hand on the doorknob. From the glass in the door, she could see the interior faintly lit by a few glowing candles. A deep breath steadied her nerves, giving herself a pause, an opportunity to back down and leave.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, a conscious thought brushed the edge of her mind. It was malevolent and directed at her. Her head swiveled around, scrutinizing the buildings around her, the guards and people bustling about, all completely oblivious to her or the building. Nothing out of the ordinary snared her attention.
Her nerve resolved, she twisted the knob and stepped inside.
Chapter 45: Harold the Hermit
Julie entered the dim greeting room. The wood creaked underneath her weight. The air was thick and warm, a faint scent of vanilla tobacco curled through the air. A red and gold rug covered the center, muffling her footfalls and obscuring half-rotted wood. Padding deeper into the building, she worked around the corner to the left and spotted the fireplace ablaze.
Old furniture graced the sitting room, a long chair of forest green color, and two high-back chairs sheathed in brown, tan, and forest green cloth. The latter had high backs facing her, and the fabric was ripped and torn from years of use. The room appeared void of occupants. She went to the fire and knelt, warming her hands against the dancing flames.
The sound of a book closing behind her made her jump, her hands struggling into the folds of her robes to grasp her wand. She withdrew it in haste and almost lost her grip. An elderly man sat in one of the chairs. Although he sat, Julie surmised his towering height. His head, bald on top, had shaggy hair around the sides and reached his shoulders. The white hair held streaks of its original black and brown shot through it. A potbelly bulged beneath his robes, showing he had weight to him, but wasn¡¯t overly fat.
His relaxed composure with his wide chin and broad nose gave kindness to his face. Warm, deep-set eyes were inviting, despite their chilly, pale blue-gray. With legs crossed, right heel to left knee, a huge book propped against the leg as an impromptu desk. His left hand rested on the book¡¯s thick, worn, cover; in his right was the pipe she detected earlier. A faint, expectant smile graced his face, waiting for her to break the silence.
¡°Sorry,¡± Julie stammered, feeling embarrassed. ¡°I saw the place outside and the sign, The Enchanted Allure Guild. I was hoping you had something to teach me,¡± she said meekly. With each passing heartbeat, she withered in her foolishness, waiting for the elderly man to speak. Lowering her wand, she tucked it away in her robes.
He¡¯s about Judas¡¯s age, perhaps a little older. Maybe six ages?
The man stirred in his seat but remained silent.
¡°I¡¯m interested in learning anything about magic,¡± she continued. ¡°I have a condition, and I forgot everything ¡ well, everything before I woke up. I only remember my name and the past few days or weeks. It¡¯s kind of a blur, to be honest. There are other, various things I can remember, but not much.¡±
The old man rose slowly and walked away with a hobble, favoring his left leg. Perplexed, Julie followed as he worked his way behind the counter in the main foyer and opened a door into a huge room with hundreds of books lining the extensive shelving. From the doorway, she watched him gingerly climb a ladder. From the eighth shelf, he tugged on a massive book. Tome in hand, he returned to the dusty counter, and Julie retreated to the other side.
Doubtless he was as strong as a bull in his youth, she mused to herself, noting his height and broad shoulders.
The book clattered on the counter top with a loud thud; the weighty tome sat between them. Julie considered the dust-ridden volume and frayed cover, then the silent man.
¡°What¡¯s this?¡± she queried, fingering the book¡¯s binding. It seemed worse than the building, ready to fall apart if the breeze blew too hard. ¡°I¡¯m not sure I can read it. My condition¡ª¡±
¡°You don¡¯t have a condition,¡± the man purred with a soft, deep voice. ¡°It¡¯s normal that you can¡¯t remember how to read this language. One of the side effects.¡±
Surprised he finally spoke, yet perplexed at his declaration, Julie took a few moments to collect herself. ¡°What are you talking about?¡±
¡°Harold,¡± he said.
¡°I beg your pardon?¡±
¡°Harold,¡± he repeated, extending his large, meaty hand.
Julie blushed, then reached out to grasp his hand. ¡°Hello, Harold, I¡¯m Julie.¡±
¡°How is it, Julie, that you remember a greeting, but you can¡¯t remember anything else?¡±
¡°I don¡¯t know. Do you?¡±
¡°No. A curious thought, though, isn¡¯t it? You say you don¡¯t remember anything, yet something as simple as a greeting you remember.¡± He smiled more to himself than to her. ¡°This is what you want.¡± He pointed to the book.
¡°What is it?¡±
¡°Everything you¡¯d want to know about the realm, and probably many things you don¡¯t,¡± he explained. ¡°But, to be fair, this only covers from Ralloc to the Melodic Mountains, the upper part of the continent Ernrul. But the southern continent or any of the three continents across the Golden Sea isn¡¯t within, things like the Kran Empire and the Ebbins.¡± He waved it away. ¡°You can read up on that stuff at your leisure. This,¡± he articulated, tapping the book for emphasis, ¡°is for what¡¯s right outside the door.¡±
She nodded to him and thumbed through the book for a few moments before closing it again. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t it be quicker if I just asked you what I want to learn?¡±
¡°Now, that¡¯s more like it! You aren¡¯t lazy, just efficient. Efficiency is severely underrated in my opinion.¡± He smiled and limped back to his chair in the sitting room. Julie followed on his heels and seated herself in the chair beside him, the table holding his pipe and book between them. Snatching up the former, he stuffed tobacco in the bowl, and pulling his wand from the tabletop, a small flame flared, and a curl of smoke rose into the air.
¡°You can do spells without the use of words, too?¡± she asked, intrigued.
¡°Is that one of your questions about the realm you intended to ask?¡± he countered.
¡°No, not really, I was told once by my ¡ this man, that most people can¡¯t do spells without the use of words or incantations.¡±
¡°A valid assessment that¡¯s not completely accurate,¡± he said after a long draw. ¡°Some people can do small and simple spells which require no special incantations, but ¡ for the majority of the time, I can¡¯t. So, yes, he was right and wrong.¡±
With a nod, she filed that information away for later. She posed her next question. ¡°Who are you?¡±
¡°I already told you.¡±
¡°No, you told me your name, Harold, but not who you are.¡±
¡°One begets another,¡± he assured quietly. ¡°I¡¯m a shut-in, recluse, antisocial, whatever you wish to call me. I have lived here for the four ages. You¡¯re the first person I¡¯ve talked to in three. Quite a long time, eh?¡±
¡°Yes,¡± Julie said, thinking about what it¡¯d be like to not talk to someone in three thousand years. ¡°Very long time.¡±
¡°Which brings me to my next question, how did you see it?¡± Harold inquired, his brow arched in interest.
¡°See what?¡±
¡°The building, of course. Did you consider why the people skirt past? I put up an illusion of a graveyard. But a normal graveyard will bring curious people to investigate the interred. No, no, not mine. This cemetery is for the cursed and the damned. No one dares set foot here, which is how I¡¯ve lived for several ages.¡±
¡°Don¡¯t you ever go out to the town?¡± asked Julie, almost horrified by this man¡¯s life style.
¡°Yes, once a month during the full moon.¡±
¡°You mean the day of the full moon, right?¡±
¡°No,¡± he said, shaking his head. He puffed his embers back to life. ¡°At night.¡±
¡°Why at night?¡±
¡°Part of my bargain for being here. Please, no more questions about me. What do you wish to learn about the realm?¡±
Julie was silent for a while, contemplating this new mystery. Mysteries, to her, were meant to be solved, and quickly. She switched directions. ¡°Do you know anything about a man name Fife Doole?¡± It was a safe question; one that could be passed off from a book, and it wouldn¡¯t lead to where she¡¯d been or who sent her.
¡°Fife Doole, yes, I recognize the name. But he¡¯s no man.¡±
¡°What do you mean he¡¯s no man?¡±
¡°He¡¯s dead for starters. Surely you read a history book where you got his name from. He died three ages and an era ago. You just missed him, huh?¡± he chortled, finding humor in it. Julie, at best guess, was about two ages old, missing Fife by fifteen-hundred years.
Julie, stumped on the answer, posed another question. ¡°What do you know about Xilor?¡±
Harold stopped in mid-puff, and his voice grew low and grating. ¡°I don¡¯t talk about that monster, not here, not anywhere. He¡¯s an abomination and shouldn¡¯t exist!¡±
Julie nodded and thought of another question. ¡°What can you tell me about the Sleight of Hand Society and the Conjurer¡¯s Accord?¡±
¡°Both are nonsense,¡± he dispelled her allusion, waving his right hand, the pipe still cradled. ¡°The Sleight of Hand is a Thieves Guild that uses magic to amplify their skills. The Conjurer¡¯s Accord is a band of scholar-like minds, the childhood weirdo¡¯s you would¡¯ve grown up with at school. They get together and think of new illusions to perform or spirits to summon or souls to torment because they were harassed when they were young. Bah! What a waste of space.¡±
Julie leaned forward, pondering Harold¡¯s words on Fife. ¡°You said Fife Doole was no man, which implies that he was something else, regardless if he¡¯s dead. Can you elaborate?¡±
Harold eyed her over his pipe. ¡°You¡¯re a bright one, more than I gave you credit for. You¡¯re right; Fife was not a man. Man implies wizardkind when, in fact, he wasn¡¯t. He was the son of a halfling, and his mother was a gnome. What would you call that? A half-gnome? Maybe a gnomling?¡± He chuckled at his joke. His gray-blue eyes flickered back to Julie again and saw the joke was either not funny or lost on her completely.
Julie contemplated her next question. She sought a great answer and though seemingly knowledgeable, Harold didn¡¯t give straight answers. In some ways, he reminded her of Judas. She desired her memories back and to know why she felt a connection to Xilor while she endured Mr. Pleasure¡¯s tortures. What she didn¡¯t want was a semblance of sympathy or an inkling of a connection between them, her and Xilor. The shocking thought unsettled her. She understood him, and his desire for power. He craved it, just as she did. But the most disturbing aspect, she accepted that part of him, even if she detested the rest of him. To accept herself, she had to. She compared their likeness and found what she searched for: a way they were starkly different. Xilor forged his destiny by the blood of others. What was hers?This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
¡°What¡¯s my destiny?¡± she pondered.
¡°Destiny?¡± Harold imitated after a moment of consideration. ¡°That¡¯s a very good question. What do you think the meaning is?¡±
Julie shook her head minutely and shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s something that you were born for.¡±
¡°No, child, that¡¯s fate. Fate is predetermined. Destiny is something you have to choose. So, it¡¯s what you decide. What are you going to do?¡± Harold let his sentence hang between them as he reclined back in his chair.
It¡¯s a good question, Julie mused.
She knew the answer almost immediately after Harold queried: Xilor. To fulfill a prophecy, she must destroy the dark lord. She remembered Judas¡¯s words as they echoed in her head, ¡®A powerful mage coming from beyond the realm of magic ¡ a perfect balance of light and dark.¡¯
Their stillness was punctured only when Harold puffed on his pipe every few seconds as she dwelt on the path before her. But a part of her didn¡¯t yearn for it.
¡°There¡¯s something I wish to teach you,¡± Harold interrupted Julie¡¯s thoughts. ¡°It¡¯ll serve you well.¡±
¡°What¡¯s that?¡±
¡°The ability to perceive events that have either already happened, may happen, would¡¯ve happened, or are happening. To be fair, anything you glimpse may not come to pass. The possibility of what you are seeing may change the outcome. One event begets another, and will always, unless affected by an outside source. You must be a shadow when foreseeing these events, present, yet not part of the world which you see.¡±
¡°What? That doesn¡¯t make any sense! One event begets another¡.¡± Julie¡¯s brow frowned in contemplation.
¡°In other words, what¡¯s meant to happen will happen unless you change the outcome by interfering.¡±
¡°Oh, I get that. Why didn¡¯t you just say that?¡±
¡°I did.¡±
¡°What¡¯s it called?¡±
¡°Shadowcasting.¡±
¡°I¡¯ve never heard of it.¡±
He grinned. ¡°That doesn¡¯t surprise me.¡±
Harold lurched from his chair to the floor and crossed his legs with some difficulty. She mirrored him, and when he reached for her hands, she placed them in his. His hands were massive, calloused and warm. She looked into his face, but his eyes were closed, so she followed suit.
¡°This will require concentration and discipline, one of the hardest things you¡¯ll ever do,¡± Harold instructed. ¡±When you first begin, with your lack of control, you only see what it wants you to observe. The Shadowcast is the coach driver while you are the passenger. Later, with practice, you¡¯ll be able to determine the when, where, and what, at your inclination.
¡°It¡¯s best to visualize time as a breeze. The present ebbs and flows: a faintest of whispers of the wind, almost not moving. The future: a gust rushing towards you, the past: a breeze moving steadily away. The flow and ebb of time change constantly¡ªthough not perceived by the inhabitants of the present. Let your mind empty of thought and stretch out, touch the flow of time.¡±
Julie did as instructed, but when she reached out, nothing changed. Their breathing filled her ears. At first, she thought she heard it, but the longer it dwelled, she realized she perceived it instead.
¡°Further,¡± he whispered the instructions.
She stretched her essence beyond them. She faintly detected the small life forms, insects hidden in dark recesses of the house as they skittered silently between the walls and under the floor.
¡°Further,¡± Harold muttered.
Pushing beyond, she felt other small lifeforms, mice and other insects outside the house. A bead of sweat formed on her forehead from exertion. Trees brushed the edge of her concentration, the dirt surrounding them, bedding the roots. Water and nutrients flowed the expanse of veins, nurturing the large oak. The wind tickled the leaves, slithered through the breaks in the bark.
¡°Good,¡± Harold¡¯s warm voice approved. ¡°The tree. Notice how the tree is different than the crickets and termites, the mice and lizards. Can you distinguish the difference?¡±
¡°Yes,¡± Julie breathed back. She visualized it in her mind¡¯s eye.
¡°Now, feel how they are the same.¡± The last statement partly shocked Julie and nearly broke her concentration. She never thought of trees, crickets, and mice having anything in common. Julie searched again for the insects until she found them, then the mice, and lastly the tree. In her mind, she moved the small lights representing the different lifeforms. She manipulated them, moving them one over the other, turning and twisting them until she found the faintest trace of resemblance.
¡°There it is.¡±
Julie wasn¡¯t sure if Harold had said anything or if she imagined it. When she found the traces of likeness, she followed them. And then, before she could pull away, she was gone in a sudden surge, lost in the tides of Shadowcasting.
The commander¡¯s voice pealed through the night, signaling the attack. Trolls came over the rise, flooding down on the unsuspecting village with clubs, claymores, spears, and knives. It¡¯d fall easily without a giant wall surrounding it like in Dlad City or Ralloc, or an encompassing channel to ford.
Towering trolls surged forward, descending on the sleeping town. But wizardkind emerged from all over: behind houses, stables, wagons, and old rum barrels. A plethora of diverse spells rent the darkness, light radiating over the invaders. Silhouettes perched on the roofs rained a hail of arrows, piercing the incursive band. Oauk watched those under his charge burn, stumble from paralysis, explode, or riddled with arrows and swords. Some trolls turned on each other, driving clubs and edges through their comrades.
But in war, while strategy played a part, so did numbers. The mass overran the initial line of small resistance. Clubs and dirks caught combatants in the heads or neck, driving them into the ground.
The command boomed from the hill where he stood, guiding his troops through the battle. The next swell of personnel gushed over the rise just as the first started to pillage the town, ferreting out those in hiding. With torches, they set fire to the huts and outlying shacks. The first and second waves commenced their destruction; the third awaited their opportunity.
His warriors swarmed through, a near flawless attack. They came from the northeast, skirting the swampland. To the south lay leagues of rolling plains; any attack would be seen from that direction. To the west, a narrow, mountainous trail leading to the Unicorn Valley, impossible to navigate in numbers or speed.
¡°We can¡¯ wait much lon¡¯er, Judas, or th¡¯ figh¡¯ will be over, and th¡¯ legions of trolls will return ta¡¯ th¡¯ commander on th¡¯ hill,¡± T¡¯son whispered harshly.
From the edge of the swamp, T¡¯son witness the destruction of the hamlet. He, Judas, and a large band of wizards crept the inside of the swampland to flank the trolls from the left. They remained undetected, using the outcroppings of the rocks, trees, and the slope to shield their approach.
All these years of rebuilding from the Wizard¡¯s War, T¡¯son thought to himself. What a waste.
Disgust boiled in his stomach. Waiting galled him. He cast Judas a withering glance, silently urging him to commence. The commander gave another order, and a third influx pullulated the village.
¡°Yes, I know,¡± the warlock replied. ¡°But if the children are doing their job and running for the river, they¡¯ll draw the infantry away from the commander, and we can take him with ease.¡± They¡¯d gone over this before, but T¡¯son didn¡¯t like that part of the plan.
Houses burned, heads cleaved from shoulders, screams curled through the night. The trolls rushed forward like a disease, flies swarming over spoiled food. Relentless in their murderous ways, no man or woman was safe as they slit throats and ran swords through chests. His men and women were dying, but the trolls didn¡¯t stop there; they went after the children who ran as fast as they could to the river on the far west side of the town. If they could make it, there they¡¯d be safe; trolls hated water and wouldn¡¯t venture in after them.
¡°Ah, ta¡¯ th¡¯ abyss with this. I¡¯m attackin¡¯ now,¡± T¡¯son declared. He stood from his crouching position and yelled, ¡°CHARGE!¡±
¡°Not yet,¡± Judas tried to warn him, but it was too late. Their location revealed, half of the men rushed past the edge and out of concealment.
The commander turned to the noise, caught off guard. He pointed his sword at the incoming attackers and grunted, the remainder of his soldiers attacked. Trolls and wizards clashed. Spells flew as clubs and swords rang out, blood spewing.
Judas ducked underneath an incoming sword and¡ªwhile crouching¡ªsent a bolt of fire piercing through three charging trolls, melting them from head to foot. He stood, blasting the nearest troll off its feet, the force of impact shattered his spine. In silence, Judas weaved, cutting a swath through the invaders. Severed arms clattered to the ground, missing legs toppled adversaries. He called fire and lightning, churned the earth to devour those above. With a practiced hand, he invoked one potential attacker to turn his sword upon himself.
An order boomed and numerous trolls turned in his direction, running him down. He pushed out with his hand, a wave of invisible energy lashing out, trampling the inbound, mowing down ranks of soldiers.
Adrenaline coursed through his veins. Slowly, the tide of battle turned.
Out of body, she soared above a battle in progress. She touched down in their midst; animalistic beings fought wizards and common folk with swords and axes. The battle moved faster than physically possible, the events flashing through her mind. In horror, she watched bodies litter the ground in fractions of a second, within blinks of the eye. Children ran screaming, slaughtered by the animals that hunted them. Men were cleaved and flung to the ground. The screams curled her blood. Beasts burned, crushed by an unseen force.
The carnage ground to a halt as Judas stood alone in the field. A man lay at his feet. Her former master wept openly, unashamed tears streaked his face. Seeing him like this shook Julie to the core, having never seen this range of emotion from him.
She stepped closer, coming to a stop just behind him and to his right. ¡°He fought courageously. I saw. It was amazing ¡ his strength to carry on,¡± Julie murmured. It was the truth; she did witness his last courageous act, a spectator to everything that had happened or would happen.
¡°Yes, a magnificent display of dedication ¡ honor ¡ desire,¡± Judas agreed.
¡°How many years have you known each other?¡±
¡°Since before the Wizard¡¯s War, so long ago. Time slipped by. I sometimes find myself wondering, where did all the time go?¡± Judas spoke more to himself than her. ¡°You know what he said?¡± Judas both chuckled and cried tears of sorrow. ¡°I reached him just before he died. I told him I was here for him, and that I¡¯d heal him. He smiled and said, ¡®I see my first mate, my love, I¡¯ve sailed to you.¡¯¡± Silence followed as Judas wept, grieving.
¡°How long since you two last visited each other?¡±
He rubbed away the tears and took a deep breath. ¡°About two epochs ago. It¡¯s a long time when you¡¯re going through it, but a short time when you reflect.¡± She stood quietly for a moment. ¡°A tragedy,¡± Judas spoke up after a brief moment of silence. ¡°A tragedy that will only amplify as the time goes on.¡±
¡°So much death and violence, I don¡¯t think I can stomach a war!¡±
Judas¡¯s voice hardened, full of turmoil, righteous anger, and restlessness. ¡°You better get used to seeing it,¡± he barked, his voice stern. ¡°There¡¯s no reason for Xilor¡¯s madness. I tried to predict him in the last war, but with no way to¡ª¡± At that moment, Judas spun around, his eyes widened and recognition came to his face. ¡°Julie?¡± he whispered, recognizing the voice at last.
What he perceived made him doubt his sanity. The faintest image of her stood before him, but he peered through her like an apparition. Shock spread across his face, and he turned visibly whiter.
¡°A ghost,¡± he gawked.
He reached for her, but she faded before he touched her incorporeal image.
Both Harold and Julie exhaled together, their eyes opened. The fire had dwindled down to red embers and cold claimed the space where heat once occupied. Harold stirred, his back, knees, and hips popped audibly as he rose from the floor to his chair. He reached for his pipe and relit the tobacco, drawing quick, deep puffs. Julie shifted, a slight spasm rolled from the base of her spine to her neck. The pain raced through her, and she, too, moved to a chair, rubbing her neck.
¡°That was intense.¡±
¡°Yes, as is each time you Shadowcast, in their own way, of course. But the events you saw will change now.¡±
¡°What do you mean?¡± she asked, uncertain.
¡°Because you interfered, if the event still happens, an altered outcome will manifest.¡±
¡°What will change? Will Judas die?¡±
¡°Possibly, but I¡¯ve never heard of events changing so drastically. Usually, it¡¯s small things. Small events, words, items. To inflict death, you¡¯d have to interfere a great deal more than you did, or so experience has told me.¡±
¡°I¡¯ll keep that in mind in the future,¡± she vowed.
¡°Also, this ability is quite advanced. I don¡¯t know of anyone able to do it besides us. But to be honest, I¡¯m not acquainted with that many people. There are others who can do variations of it, but to actually Shadowcast¡¡± he shook his head.
¡°What others? What variations?¡±
¡°To each his own, but Warlock Lakayre, your former master, can do something similar.¡±
Alarm spread across Julie¡¯s face. ¡°How did you work out he was my master? I never told you.¡±
¡°I¡¯m knowledgeable of many things, child.¡± He paused a moment before continuing. ¡°There¡¯s another warning I must give you before you go. What we just did is something that the archangels do. They live like this, in a perpetual state of casting.¡±
¡°Are you well-versed with archangels?¡±
A pause. ¡°I¡¯m knowledgeable of many things, child,¡± Harold repeated. He sighed and stirred in his chair. ¡°It¡¯s getting late, and a long journey awaits you in your near future. Get your rest. You¡¯ll find what you¡¯re looking for,¡± he said with a knowing smile. ¡°But heed this: you may not like what you find, or you may like it too much. You may find that you already found what you sought. Sweet dreams,¡± he bade her, pulling on his pipe. He turned his gaze to the book and pulled it back in his lap.
As she was exiting, he called to her. ¡°Don¡¯t bother to say goodbye; you¡¯ll be back.¡±
Silently, she closed the door behind her.
Chapter 46: Wizards Pass
¡°Take the commander,¡± Judas urged over the chaos of the battle. Spells flew as swords hacked away in a spray of blood. The gore of war gushed out like a mist, peppering their faces. War always started small, the carnage before him a taste of what was to come.
Judas leapt over a fallen troll, calling the troll¡¯s sword to his hand with a flicker of magic. The sword was unwieldy, alien, and it had been years since he last held one. The blade was heavy and strange in the cradle of his palm. A paw shot out, snatching him by his arm. Instinct drove the steel through flesh and bone. He didn¡¯t need a sword as long as he had his wand, but two weapons were better than one.
He ran to the nearest troll overpowering his comrades and lashed out, ending the momentary struggle. A flash of metal slashed through his vision, catching an incoming blade. A right cross rocked the troll¡¯s head back, a reprieve allowing Judas a chance to run steel through the torso. Shaking off the dying warrior, Judas scanned for the commander in time to see T¡¯son advancing on him.
T¡¯son sprinted up the hill, throwing his weight into every troll he caught off guard. Each collapsed, stumbled, or rolled down the hill. Reaching the summit, he pressed his relentless attack.
T¡¯son swung overhead, throwing all weight and strength into the blow. The leader blocked and countered, pushing the crossed blades back the way they came. Off balance, T¡¯son stumbled, an opening capitalized with a side-step to the left and a thrust. The blade burrowed to the hilt in T¡¯son¡¯s stomach.
¡°No!¡± Judas yelled.
T¡¯son¡¯s eyes widened in shock. Blood and innards emerged, a face of glowering satisfaction loomed near him. Knees trembled, his strength ebbing.
¡°Good day to die, isn¡¯t it?¡± Oauk taunted.
¡°For both of us,¡± T¡¯son answered with all the hate he could muster. With renewed strength and arching steel, the troll¡¯s head toppled to the ground.
With the blade still inside him, he gazed out over the carnage. Through the blood bath below, he glimpsed his friend rushing to his side. T¡¯son collapsed in a heap, the sword driving deeper as he doubled over. All noises of the battle faded, his distant gaze tracking his friend, fading from sight.
The fight raged on.
Judas waded through the bodies, checking for wounded and lending his meager healing skills. The citizens of Wizard¡¯s Pass fought gallantly against the overwhelming legion. In the end, they managed to drive off the last remains, the battle turning with the loss of their commander, but the citizens took heavy losses, both in casualties and the village itself. Most of it burned to the ground, hardening the resolve of the survivors.
Blood soaked the ground and pooled in other places. Bodies and limbs lay strewn; Judas hoped for more survivors after each body he passed.
Such a tragedy, Judas thought, all this loss of life for the fall of an out-of-the-way village. He couldn¡¯t help but feel somewhat responsible. Did Xilor track me here?
It was the only explanation that made sense at the moment. Wizard¡¯s Pass offered no strategic value; the only other alternative intent was to break morale. The mind game had started, with Xilor as the master puppeteer. By the time he trampled his way over a sea of bodies and reached Ralloc, Judas envisioned them laying down arms almost willingly. The defeat here molded a detrimental future.
The children returned in droves from the river as the remaining trolls retreated. Only their dead and the destruction they wrought was left in the wake of their departure.
A passionate anger burned in Judas. All this death, sanctioned by orders from a master they¡¯d never see.
Pawns are such, he mused. Move this piece against that. If you lose, no damage to you; if you win, the more power you accumulate. That was the way of tyrants, and Xilor¡¯s the biggest of them.
Judas stopped suddenly, finding the corpse of his friend he lost today. He¡¯d fought bravely to the end and beyond.
Judas sensed a stir beside him. ¡°Did he fight courageously?¡± a woman spoke.
¡°Yes, it was magnificently displayed dedication ¡ honor ¡ desire,¡± Judas said, tears formed in his eyes.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.
¡°How long did you know each other?¡± the other queried.
¡°Around the time of the First Wizard¡¯s War, maybe sometime after, it¡¯s all a blur. I sometimes find myself wondering, where did all the time go?¡± Judas spoke more to himself than the woman. ¡°Do you know what he said?¡± he asked. The warlock trembled with sorrow. ¡°I wasn¡¯t there for him in the end.¡±
Silence followed as Judas wept with grief.
¡°I¡¯ll regret my failure for the rest of my life, but I don¡¯t think I can bear to hear his last words. I¡¯m the recipient of many last words in my time. It¡¯s funny and tragic the places your mind takes you while approaching death¡¯s door.¡±
¡°How long since you two saw each other last?¡±
¡°About two ages, a long time when you are going through it, a short time when you reflect. Cherish the moments you gain.¡±
¡°I will,¡± she said, her voice stoic.
Judas spoke up after a brief moment of silence. ¡°This is such a mess, and it¡¯ll only get worse as time goes on!¡± He looked out over the toll of bodies.
¡°There were so many deaths¡ªand the violence?¡ªhow can anyone choose to go to war?¡±
The words angered him, but his gaze lingered on his lifeless friend. ¡°You better get used to seeing it,¡± he said sternly. His brows frowned. ¡°More is coming and soon. Day and night will stand maddeningly still. Blood will soak the ground, polluting our water. People will die, and fire will fall from the sky. Turmoil, hate, death: that¡¯s our future, one not for the weak.¡± He knelt and closed T¡¯son eyes, and grief took him once again.
¡°I¡¯m sorry, Judas,¡± she said. The warlock whirled, glimpsing the fading image of his lost apprentice, and in its place, a woman he knew well, appeared.
¡°I came as quickly as I could, Judas.¡± Meristal wrapped her arms around him, her hair of orange flame tickling his nose. She smelled of sweet vanilla and a mild flowery scent. ¡°What happened here?¡±
¡°A troll invasion. The few people you see are the survivors.¡±
¡°And your apprentice, what of her?¡± she asked, glancing around anxiously.
He looked at her, and a solemn expression crossed his face. ¡°Julie¡¯s gone.¡±
¡°She perished?¡± Meristal gasped in shock. Her hand came to her mouth.
¡°No, no,¡± Judas was quick to assure her. ¡°During the night, while we were in the swamplands, she took off. She¡¯s with the fairies now, or they¡¯re with her.¡±
¡°What can they possibly teach her? They don¡¯t have the level of magic that she does. Why didn¡¯t you go after her?¡±
¡°They¡¯re not teaching her magic, but about the realm, and I¡¯m unsure about that. I didn¡¯t ask for their planned academics. The fairy warned me that they¡¯d hide her from me if I pursued, so I didn¡¯t.¡±
¡°Why would they waste their time with those trivialities?¡±
Judas didn¡¯t respond. His eyes swept over the carnage. They could remove the bodies, but blood would stain the earth for a time.
¡°Why?¡± Meristal pressed.
¡°Because they believe in their prophecy, and they may be right.¡±
¡°Since when do you believed in prophecies, fates, and destinies, Judas?¡±
¡°The moment I reached out to find her. She¡¯s too far away for you to do the same, but what I felt was incredible.¡±
Meristal took his acknowledgment in stride, knowing she¡¯d never change his mind once set. ¡°What about the trolls who attacked? Where did they go?¡±
¡°They¡¯ve retreated, but I fear that another attack is coming soon.¡±
¡°Here?¡± she inquired, skeptical. He shook his head in response. ¡°Then, where?¡±
¡°The only probable place, Meristal: Far Point.¡±
¡°Well, we have to warn them. I can teleport there and¡ª¡±
¡°No need, I already tried. A powerful spell is blocking me, and I can¡¯t get within two days walk of the city.¡±
¡°Well, we could Psimond them then, some warning!¡±
¡°I tried that as well. Only one being is powerful enough to block me: Xilor.¡±
¡°Probably,¡± she conceded, her lips puckered, biting back more words. ¡°Perhaps it¡¯s the xicx that are doing the spells. Why Far Point? There¡¯s nothing of strategic value.¡±
¡°No, the xicx aren¡¯t powerful enough to stop me, and as for Far Point, I¡¯m at a loss.¡±
¡°How¡¯s it possible that he escaped?¡±
¡°It¡¯d always be a matter of time. Nothing is truly escape-proof. What about you, Madam Raviils? Where are you going now to deliver the news of this battle?¡±
¡°I¡¯m off to negotiate with the elyves,¡± Meristal replied after a moment of consideration. ¡°Once finished, I¡¯ll return to Ralloc, though I¡¯d rather be here with you.¡±
¡°Very well, best if you don¡¯t stay, at least not at the moment. You have more pressing matters to attend. Tell the council that the war has started. Refugees of Wizard¡¯s Pass will be coming to Ralloc, Dlad City, or some other city along the way. Best that they have some warning and prepare.¡±
¡°I¡¯ll do as you ask, but I don¡¯t know if they¡¯ll listen.¡±
¡°Make them listen.¡±
¡°Be careful, Judas. Try to stay in one piece for me.¡±
¡°And you, my dear, fly like the wind, and may Goushuul speed your journey.¡±
Meristal gave him a quizzical look, but held back. The two locked gazes for a moment, speaking with their eyes what their mouths would not, and then Meristal flickered as she teleported away, leaving Judas with his grief and the duty of organizing a mass evacuation to Ralloc.
Chapter 47: Kam and Lily
Upon shutting the door, Julie turned and faced the street, pausing long enough to look for travelers walking at this time of night. She didn¡¯t see any. Tugging her clean but tattered robes tighter, she slipped out of the projected enchantment and trudged down the road towards the Traveler¡¯s Haven.
The same overpowering sense smothered her, the malevolent gaze hounding her gait. With her head moving, she turned, hands reaching for her wand. Her eyes darted through the darkness, but nothing stirred. Shaking off the dread, she continued, but her wand remained tightly clasped in her hand.
She reached the safety of the Traveler¡¯s Haven, and the awareness never relented. If anything, it seemed at hand, a stray breath on the nape of her neck. The merriment inside the inn broke through the shuddering thoughts. She opened the front door. The half-filled common room greeted her. A new bartender stood behind the counter, and a couple of girls lilted between tables. Julie couldn¡¯t tell if they were servers or whores. Perhaps both.
With a seat at the bar, she ordered her complementary meal. After a few moments, the bartender dropped a plate of some form of meat and vegetable stew over rice and a slice of wheat bread. Against her better judgment, she ordered another two Vampire Dust and flicked a copper bit to him. She ate leisurely, recalling the vivid carnage of the battle that took place during her Shadowcasting.
No, may or may not have taken place, she reminded herself, regardless of how real it seemed.
She drank copiously with her meal and ordered another, savoring the flavor. With a swivel, she took in the night crowd. Old, weathered men sat playing games with cards or pieces of chiseled wood or stone and money. Every once in a while, something elicited a whoop or a cry of dismay from them. Though having never played the game and unable to follow, she reveled in the spectacle. Others seated randomly about the room ate and drank together, talking in low voices while others adored the traveling player bound for greatness in Ralloc. Her gaze swept across the room as she drank, the Vampire Dust making her sluggish, but she savored the experience.
Her eyes finally came to rest on a couple sitting alone. The woman straddled the man, his hands gripping her buttocks, sharing a passionate embrace. The magelust flickered within her. The woman, a blonde, turned her head as his lips brushed her neck, making eye contact with Julie. The magelust flared to life, burning bright and hot. Alcohol swirled through her head, a tingling fog settling over her. She¡¯d felt the magelust twice before, once with Todd, and once with the young man at the inn in Dlad City. Without the possibility of Judas barging in or the sharp pain jarring her out of the lasciviousness, the night might¡¯ve ended differently. Though the latter had proven to be the stronger of the two, it was a mild annoyance compared to the impulse gripping her now.
What the hell is wrong with me? The longer she gazed, the more excited she became. What am I doing? I shouldn¡¯t even be watching them!
But Julie couldn¡¯t tear her eyes away, yearning; she wanted to be the woman in the pair. The man¡¯s hands glided up the woman¡¯s back. Julie could almost feel the man¡¯s hands on her; goosebumps riddled her skin, her stomach clenched.
No, I can¡¯t do this, I can¡¯t watch them, but I can¡¯t look away! Why can¡¯t I break this hold? Her gaze slid to the man¡¯s face, the urge flaring.
If I do this, I¡¯m lost, she tried to reason with herself.
You¡¯re already lost.
It¡¯s unnatural, she countered weakly.
If that¡¯s true, you¡¯d never have been born, and there¡¯d be no point in living.
The woman rose lazily, leading the man up the stairs to the rooms. The blonde made eye contact with her, and Julie nearly fell off her bar stool as they walked by, the intoxicating effects overpowering her. Without delay, she followed in their wake, her steps slow and unsure from the alcohol.
The hallway was dark, cold, and devoid other than the couple. The man fumbled for the key as Julie caught up with them. The closer in proximity she came, the stronger the desire built. As she drew even with the two lovers, the magelust overwhelmed her. The pale woman shifted, noticing, turning towards her. Julie reached out and kissed the fair-haired woman who returned the affection, her tongue entering Julie¡¯s mouth. The man, becoming aware, stopped fumbling with the key to gawk.
The kiss broke for but a moment. ¡°Hurry,¡± his companion urged.
The big man lowered his shoulder into the door, and with a quick shove it came open, the key still in his hand. He ushered both girlswith a gesture. Once inside, he barred the door so they wouldn¡¯t be interrupted. He neared, timid before Julie broke from the woman and progressed to him. She guided his hands over her body and stood up on her toes to kiss him, her fingers running through his short, dark, blond hair.
The woman stripped and stepped into the bathtub. She knelt, washing her body before enticing Julie to follow suit. With deft hands, Julie¡¯s robes opened. The man behind her caressed her neck with his lips, hands tugging at the fabrics, letting them fall to the floor, forgotten. Soft fingers peeled away her undergarments, the woman¡¯s delicate press of lips tickled her hip bone. Hand in hand, she pulled Julie into the tub. Tepid water cascaded down her body as she turned to face the man outside the tub. A fragrant soap and rag tenderly washed away the day¡¯s grime. The older woman knelt, her hands gliding down Julie¡¯s body with a practiced hand. The man kept her attention, entertaining her with his tongue.
When the woman discarded the rag, she stepped out and half guided, half-pulled Julie to her. ¡°My name¡¯s Lily,¡± she breathed, kissing Julie. ¡°This is my husband, Kam.¡± Her lips burned against Julie¡¯s, gentle, soft. ¡°Do you want to make love to me or my husband?¡±
A rapid pulse gushed through her head, lost in the embrace, Kam temporarily forgotten. She snuggled the wife again, who smiled. ¡°Perhaps both?¡± Lily purred.
While enraptured with the woman, the man abandoned his clothes in haste. He jumped in, splashing water on him and quickly scrubbing his body before hopping out, his passions controlling him as much as the lust¡¯s oppressive hold dominated Julie.
He sauntered to the women lying on the bed, bodies entwined. Lily leaned over the younger, Julie¡¯s smaller breasts in her mouth, her fingers deep inside the younger woman, lightly exploring her glowing flesh. Kam came up behind his wife, tugging her to the bed¡¯s edge, and entered her from behind. With a quick adjustment, Lily trailed her open mouth down Julie¡¯s stomach, exploring the warmth between her legs.
With her eyes shut, Julie let herself embrace the tender bliss. Shortly, Kam¡¯s breathing turned to pants. Lily pulled away from Julie. ¡°Don¡¯t finish yet, my love,¡± she demurred. Guiding her husband to the bed, he laid on his back between the two. Lily reached across, drawing Julie close. ¡°He likes this,¡± she said, taking her husband with her mouth.
He gasped, his legs flexing straight. ¡°Shades, Lily.¡±
Animality rose within Julie as she coveted to partake. Her eyes glassed over. The older woman moved deftly, hand rising and falling with her mouth. Julie quivered, ached for more. A sweat stole over her body.
Kam turned her head towards him. Julie ran her fingers over his broad chest, skimming his lips with her own. Within moments, his breath quickened, and his wife stopped him short. When Lily finished, Julie mimicked her. Parting from his lips, her mouth trailing down his body, her face obscured by a veil of honeyed hair. With slow, methodical movements, she heard him sigh in relief, but his body tensed beneath her. Saliva dripped from her mouth, glistening his skin as she danced.
Lily shifted, and often, Julie¡¯s eyes darted towards her for approval. She hovered close, licking Kam¡¯s legs, her smooth touch reaching his taut skin, taking him in her mouth. Fingers snaked through Julie¡¯s honeyed tresses, Kam¡¯s hand riding her waves in harmony. The closeness, the intimacy, drove her into a frenzy, her vim encouraging faster movements. Kam groaned, and Lily reached out, cupping Julie¡¯s chin and pulled her away, exploring her mouth with her own, brushing past rosy lips.
Lily¡¯s hands reached down, massaging, eliciting a groan from the younger. ¡°Climb on,¡± Lily whispered, steering her.
Centering herself, she gradually sank, a moan hummed in her throat. Strong hands gripped her small hips, guiding her down before coming up. Lily¡¯s glowing, satiny lips pursued hers, a velvet tongue enticing, her exploring fingers coaxed Julie.
Sturdy hands hugged her waist, rocking her body back and forth. When his hands weren¡¯t enjoying her breasts, they traversed to her firm, round bottom. Slow and measured deeds segued into grinding back and forth, taking him fully. Her body rose, goosebumps riddled her, and she squeezed around him. She rushed toward the climatic end, her pulse rising, sweat gleaming on her breasts. Her nipples hardened, and breath quickened. The pace of Lily¡¯s massaging fingers kept tempo until Julie let out several moans, and her legs trembled. Eyes opened, she shuddered in ecstasy, swimming in a dizzy, crazed, drunk manner¡ªbut even that didn¡¯t quite describe the occurrence.If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.
Lily smiled and guided her off her husband, lapping her husband where Julie vacated.
Julie watched, her mouth working, wanting to participate. Shifting, Lily straddled him, pressing her face against Kam¡¯s, her ample bosom tight against his chest. Julie touched her tentatively, reminding Lily of her presence, but the wife redirected her to Kam. While she enjoyed the man exquisitely, the craving drew her to Lily. She longed for her more than the husband.
Obliging her wishes, Julie caressed his tongue with her own. He pulled her near, kissing her eagerly, his fingers of one hand snaking through her hair, the other gripped her taut buttocks.
His hot breath tickled her ear. ¡°I want to taste you.¡±
Responsive, he guided her with sensitive hands. Hovering over him with Lily at her back, she lowered herself; his whiskers brushed the inside of her thighs. Her fingers curled his hair, looking down into his blue eyes. As he explored her, his hands cupped her breasts. She shuddered with his heat below her, the tendrils racing through her body, the rapaciousness pulsing through her head. Her body ached. She never wanted it to stop.
After some time had passed, Lily shifted off, and Julie mirrored her. Through all their passion, Lily kept her husband from expending himself. Kam stood, and Lily took his place on the bed. Julie craved attention from the wife but she, a guest, waited, content to be a voyeur. Firm hands snagged her by the hips, dragging her away from a smiling Lily, pulling her from the bed. Her feet scarcely touched the floor before Kam¡¯s hand pressed into her back, bending her over.
He charmed her, her legs tightening, roving between the folds of her flesh and erogenous chasms yet touched. Her eyes focused on the flowing blonde locks, and she gasped, her spine tightening, eliciting a coy smile from Lily. Rapturous sensations curled through her, his pleasing frisk, tickling, strange. Kam left no part of her unexplored, untouched. A blissful dizziness spiraled her higher, almost to the threshold of nausea. His pliable touch danced to an enchanting and unheard music, his fingers sliding in rhythm. Moans seeped out of her, and she became slick. Her legs shook, knees buckled. Lily relished the myriad of expressions flashing across Julie¡¯s face as she climaxed.
The velvet warmth was replaced as Kam entered her. She sensed his proximity, his large frame dwarfing hers, experienced the desire in his velocity mingling with her own. The magelust grasped her by the throat, a rough lover, and she hoped it never let go. Beneath him, she felt diminutive as he mounted her. His powerful hands held her hips, taking her as he liked. Her body shook with each thrust.
Lily slid closer, curling her fingers in Julie¡¯s hair. Amber eyes flashed up, the look of need flourishing. Moist lips indulged her. With enamored hunger and a permissive touch, Julie lowered her head between Lily¡¯s legs, embracing her smooth skin. Fingernails pressed into her scalp, pleasure, with the promise of pain.
Kam¡¯s breathing become ragged, liberated whimpers of gratification accented by each motion. The excitement of each cadence drove Julie into his wife. Lily looked up and called to him.
¡°Come in her, Kam.¡±
In a blur, Julie couldn¡¯t tell where one thrust ended and the next began. His fervor amplified the magelust, surpassing all she had yet endured. She murmured with pleasure, eyes rolling. Lily gasped, encouraging her to continue. Her legs shook beneath her until she couldn¡¯t hold herself up anymore. She sank into the bed, her hips driven into the edge of the mattress. Husband and lover climbed simultaneously. The culmination rippled through her, trembling into Lily.
Suddenly, he slowed and moaned. Warmth filled her. Lily gasped, her legs quivered before tightening around Julie¡¯s neck, holding her firmly in place. Kam slowed, his fevered skin pressed into her back, covered in sweat. He kissed her neck as he abated.
The reprieve, though welcomed, left her unsatisfied. The arousal burned bright and hot like a meteor falling from the sky. She savored the near-tangible magic, like being high and drunk and remembering everything, and never sought the conclusion. The cupidity drove her into a craze, an unreachable itch beneath her skin, saturating her entire body. The stirring in the common room, while alluring, couldn¡¯t compete.
She stood, noting Kam¡¯s weight withdrawing, her legs shook and gave out. The nuisance of pain in her knees was forgotten with Kam¡¯s manhood looming so near, the last of his seed clinging to him. Julie reached out to take him again, licking; Kam flinched, both in pain and pleasure. She swallowed, savoring the warmth, the saltiness, tasting his scent, virile. Lily knelt, gripping her shoulders to stop her.
¡°You have to let him rest, hun,¡± Lily soothed. But the craving burned in Julie; she didn¡¯t want to stop, and Lily relented, continuing without her husband.
Before the night concluded, Julie participated in actions she never remembered experiencing before. She couldn¡¯t recollect a kiss, yet it seemed familiar and knew this experience wasn¡¯t her first time. While watching Lily, she mimicked her every move, memorizing the strange and bizarre, copulating in countless positions or contortions. Deep intimacy and unshakable trust seeded Kam and Lily¡¯s panoptic repertoire. Kam entertained both women, every moment enjoyed by Lily even when Julie was slightly apprehensive. Magelust crashed into her, washing away her timidness, partaking in their carnality of pure gratification; Lily adored Kam, and Julie vied for contention. The couple welcomed her into a life free of impiety, no act or desire shamed.
The candles burned low, a molten waterfall of wax. With dawn a few hours off, exhaustion compelled a recess. A hint of a connection to the couple, a sense of belonging while in the throes of passion overcame Julie. Lily lead her, and she heeded instruction, attempting to worship the husband as Lily did. The ease in which the couple shifted made their covetous guest try all the harder, undeterred by Kam¡¯s eccentric appetites.
Julie wanted more of Lily, but the wife made sure her husband never suffered neglect and took Kam with an ease that Julie could only venerate, yet that failed to deter her. A pride factor and wanting absolute pleasure compelled her.
With energy expended, Kam laid in bed and fixed himself a concoction of herbs and alcohol, creating a chemical reaction before drying into a powder which he snorted up his nose. Julie witnessed the effects dance across Kam¡¯s face as his eyes rolled up into the back of his head and he passed out. Curious, she wondered if her face looked similar while Kam pleased her.
Lily invited Julie to join her in a bath, washing her gently. Though the magelust lingered, cognitive functions returned. The water was still warm and clear of the soapy murkiness. The last time she entered the tub, she was too preoccupied to notice runes etched along the edge, but she could only guess at their meanings, the art lost to her. Afterward, Julie slipped into her robes as Lily rummaged through her bag. Glass bottles clinked, her hand digging through it. Dressed, Lily came over to her and placed herbs in her hand.
¡°What¡¯s this?¡± Julie asked quietly.
¡°One is moonleaf, it¡¯ll keep you from getting pregnant this month. If I recall, Kam released his seed in you twice,¡± Lily explained.
¡°Yes, but¡.¡±
Lily gave her a coy smile. ¡°I know. Kam did a number on you, but I hoped you fancied your time with us.¡± Julie smiled, nodding. ¡°The second herb is dewgrass, to ease your soreness in the morning. Believe me, you¡¯ll be sore.¡±
¡°How long did it take you?¡± Julie asked, curious.
¡°Not long, at least for me. Regularity is the key.¡± Lily reached up and kissed Julie delicately. The inner stirring returned to her eyes. Julie reached out, holding the wife, drinking her in. Eventually, Lily pulled away.
¡°What¡¯s that powder Kam took?¡± Julie inquired. She glanced at him as he slumbered in bed, devoid of clothing or sheets. The urge to mount him as he slept enticed her.
¡°Something I wish he¡¯d quit using,¡± Lily said. ¡°They call it Oblivion, and because of it, he¡¯ll be out until at least tomorrow afternoon. You did well tonight, considering.¡±
¡°What?¡± Julie asked, unsure of what she meant.
¡°You joined us without taking rakette.¡±
¡°What¡¯s rakette?¡±
¡°An herbal concoction meant to amplify your sexual desires and makes you do things you would¡¯ve never considered before. If you ever do partake, be careful. Only use it with those you truly trust.¡± Lily reached out and kissed Julie again, affectionate. Velvet rolled in her mouth. Though Julie¡¯s needs were met, she desired more. Lily pulled away first. ¡°We¡¯ll be here for the rest of the week visiting his sister, then returning to Ralloc. What about you? Do you live in Ralloc?¡±
¡°Yes, sometimes,¡± she lied. The truth is that she didn¡¯t have anywhere to call home, and she hoped Lily would want to see her again. ¡°But I¡¯m headed south. I planned to leave tomorrow¡¡± she let the sentence trail off.
¡°I hope you don¡¯t. It¡¯d be nice to ¡ see you again?¡± Lily pecked her cheek and bade her goodnight.
The mage stood outside the door for a few moments. Sleepiness coaxed her into returning to her room at the end of the hall. A smile spread across her face, but the cold presence quashed the giddiness, so strong and near. She crossed the room in three quick strides and peered through the window. Not a light flickered in the other houses, trees swayed darkly in the distance. The ominous feeling receded, and she latched the window secure before checking her other window. The presence subsided until she couldn¡¯t detect it anymore.
What am I, a child? Am I afraid of the dark now? she thought to herself. The mage brushed it off as nothing more than jitters.
With a pitcher of water resting on the dresser top, she poured it into a bowl to wash her face. She toweled herself dry and poured a cup of water, taking the two herbs Lily had given her, remembering her instructions. One moonleaf and she couldn¡¯t become pregnant for a month.
That might come in handy with those two here, she mused humorously. But the burden of her task lay before her, and she weighed the pros and cons of staying or going. Julie needed to get to the Melodic Mountains, and she didn¡¯t need Kam and Lily. Perhaps her lust-filled head, or something else entirely, coerced her, but after meeting the couple, she decided to stay.
Her clothes discarded, the floor boards creaked as she crossed her room and snuffed out the candle on the nightstand. Under the covers of her feather bed, her body ached in forgotten comfort, and drowsiness greeting her like a paramour. As she drifted off, she idly wondered if Kam and Lily were a figment or real. Since the Corridor, she couldn¡¯t be sure. She hoped her imagination didn¡¯t run away with her sanity.
She believed as she went to sleep, having been rattled from the Shadowcasting, the presence she inferred was portrayed by her jitters.
Then, the nightmares began.
In her dream, a shadow reeking of death, one that she¡¯d seen before, attacked her. Claws raked through her, twisted fingers lashing out, scratching her face and neck. It¡¯s long, skeletal nails dug deep into her skull and plunged horrible thoughts, feelings, and images into her mind.
She woke with a start, gasping for air with her hand around her throat. The dark of her room greeted her. Julie fumbled for the lantern on the night table. The light cast an eerie orange glow about the room. Panic flooded through her, noticing something out of place. Her clothes were strung about the room, not in the pile she had left them. The water bowl was overturned, but no water splashed the floor. A cool breeze fell across her face. With a jerk of her head, she glanced at the opposite side of her room.
Her window was open.
Chapter 48: Xilor
Night blanketed the land and wrapped Gryzlaud Palace in shadows. The cold lingered, seeping through the stone. Xilor sat, sprawled upon his high-back throne. In a previous life, he¡¯d filled his waking eyes with vast amounts of precious treasure. The trappings of his old life clung to him like rotten flesh. A new obsession curled through him: control, those he commanded, and those he wanted to.
Simplicity ruled his life now, only necessities.
Once, there¡¯d been a time when rich wines, fine meats, and delectable vegetables and fruit filled his plate. The expense of his lavish life cost more than the earnings of five families in a year. Now, he only ate if he needed to conserve his strength; power sustained him and warded off sleep, both a necessity for the weak. Hunger drove his anger and frustration, which fueled the hate, and urged his body and potential. A continuous cycle, a key component for his abilities.
The world slept while he stayed awake, planning, plotting, scheming; destinies forged and abolished while his slaves slumbered. He searched for weaknesses to exploit, noting several¡ªtheir defenses, their strategies¡ªin the magic they used. Other fragilities existed too, like the spirit, the heart of emotions, and the mind of choice.
Xilor¡¯s brilliance for strategy and tactics came from a long life around the right people. He learned by their guidance and strived to be the best. Studies prepared him in his youth; tutelage sharpened his skills, and apprenticeship under his former master, Hadius Lacove, turned him into a weapon. Xilor¡¯s acumen orchestrated Hadius¡¯ fall. Though his former mentor boasted his own brilliance, he failed to use his wit and cunning to exploit the realm. For all his guile, he never envisioned Xilor¡¯s betrayal or the actuality to foresee his success.
Perhaps with greater sagacity, the more you forget personalities and character, becoming so engrossed that you¡¯re ignorant of reasoning.
Though the thought troubled him, he didn¡¯t want to believe it. He always watched his back, specifically around his apprentices. One person gained his trust, Judas, and the morals that shackled him.
¡°Judas,¡± Xilor sneered into the quiet cold. Hatred boiled within him at the mere thought of the man, yet, beneath the hate, a grudging respect interred. How could someone younger and less powerful defeat him? Comparatively speaking, Xilor believed he held the edge regarding potency.
The truth about Judas¡ªone Xilor denied confronting¡ªwas that Judas wasn¡¯t weak. The warlock chose to hold back instead of unleashing his true potential, and to Xilor¡¯s appraisal, this made him weak. In Judas¡¯s weakness, he fostered a secret and garnered the advantage when they last met. After all those years trapped in the mirror, the sorcerer was no closer to the answer.
Xilor had his own secrets; his biggest trumped all others, including the warlock¡¯s. He gloated silently, savoring his prize. It was so perfect and earth shattering, and when revealed, it¡¯d deliver a blow to the realm and Ermaeyth.
Especially to Judas.
Nothing¡¯s more satisfactory than reaching into the heart of someone or something, person or idea, and ripping it out.
The world needed cleansing. He promised to raze it unless someone gave him Judas. Even if, by some lucky chance, someone turned Judas over to him, Xilor would still reforge the world. True, his process deviated from his original intent, but sacrifices bowed to unavoidable eventualities. Other reasons helped forge his chosen path. He only started to truly understand before Judas defeated him. Confinement opened his eyes.
A familiar presence brushed his consciousness, one he felt many times before, one he created. A sole, faithful xicx returned. It was still far enough away that the xicx couldn¡¯t feel him, but the master sensed the nearing slave.
Saihk returned from his assignment, one of utmost finesse. Xilor¡¯s plans hinged on the xicx¡¯s success. Black cloth and smoke swirled, forming into the half-corporeal, half-apparition form. Saihk was not just a xicx, but the Lord of the xicx. Xilor selected his minions from wizardkind, goblin, or any other follower, and converted them into a sheol.
Sheol, half-ghost and half-physical in form, survived with twisted souls. Xilor¡¯s genius harnessed the latter and bound them to the former. The dark lord discovered only the tormented would exist inside the sheol if bent, commanded by another. Xilor himself constructed the first sheol, binding the spirit he called forth to his will, and then created another to bind to the first sheol. The two original sheol regenerated quickly, multiplying into a race of their own.A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Xicx, though similar, differed. The first he made was the xicx lord, taking a mortal he favored, binding his soul to the mortal spirit, and placing it into the body of a sheol. Saihk, given liberty, converted anyone he chose, and those that followed tethered to him. The process, a beautiful, dark design from the twisted, arcane mind of Xilor. Simplistic yet infallible. He controlled one soul, the xicx lord, and through him, everyone else followed.
¡°My lord,¡± Saihk rasped, kneeling. ¡°I located this prodigy per your orders.¡±
Xilor allowed himself a small, cruel smile. ¡°Excellent,¡± he said with a quiet cold. ¡°And did you complete the second part of your mission?¡±
¡°Yes, my lord, though with great difficulty. For reasons unknown, she was aware of my presence while I carried out the task. However, what you asked for is done. Even in her sleep, she fought me, but I succeed in placing the trace on her.¡±
This bit of news troubled Xilor. If she was an amateur like he sensed, how could she detect Saihk? Could she detect what they did to her? Only time would unfold this mystery, but for now, he turned his attention to more important, looming events, satisfied with Saihk¡¯s success.
Xilor leaned forward, peering down on his creation. ¡°You¡¯ve done exceedingly well,¡± he praised Saihk. ¡°You may go.¡±
Saihk bowed his head to the floor and vanished.
Xilor rose. Now that he was alone and awaited none, he set out to learn more about this prodigy. With a nudge of intent, he vanished from the throne room and reformed in a small, near-empty room high in his palace. No one knew of this room, and if they did, he¡¯d kill them for the knowledge. This room held one of his most prized secrets. The walls mirrored the stone as the rest of the castle; an ever-persistent chill enveloped the room.
¡°I¡¯ve returned,¡± he cooed softly. A grin spread across his face beneath his hood, the gloat bleeding into his voice.
¡°I knew you would,¡± a voice responded.
¡°Does that frighten you?¡± Xilor heckled.
¡°Why would it?¡± There was no one in the room with Xilor, nothing but a cabinet in the otherwise empty chamber.
Xilor, seeing his gloating failed to elicit the desired response, tried a different tact. ¡°Has anything happened in my absence of form?¡±
¡°Yes.¡±
¡°And?¡±
¡°You¡¯ll fall because of it.¡±
Rage surged in his chest, but he restrained himself from destroying the room. He was unstoppable, the master of death.
Who dares to stand against me now? he seethed. ¡°How?¡± the sorcerer breathed, barely controlling his trembling rage.
¡°She¡¯ll keep you from your destiny, but she may also take your place.¡±
¡°She? Who is she?¡±
¡°A myth, a legend manifested. Where she hails from, I don¡¯t know. How educated are you in the histories of the races of the domain?¡±
¡°Depending on the race,¡± Xilor responded truthfully, grudgingly.
¡°Depending on the race?¡± the voice screamed. ¡°Surely, I taught you better!¡± The room reverberated. Power emanated from the voice, and it rebuffed Xilor. Even now, defeated, strength radiated from him. Perhaps too strong. Doubt whispered in the back of Xilor¡¯s mind. Was it possible for the voice to gain strength since his departure? The thought required investigating.
¡°The fairies,¡± the voice continued, ¡°believe in a legend of a powerful mage who will eventually be brought forth, from beyond Ermaeyth. This mage will form a perfect balance of light and darkness. An elder fairy must give up a wing for the mage, and form a bond between the race and the mage. This legend is from long ago, almost at the beginning of magic.¡±
¡°Skip to the part about how I kill this mage, or how I can bend this mage to my will?¡±
¡°You cannot bend her will to yours.¡±
¡°Who is she?¡± Xilor growled.
¡°I¡¯ve answered that question.¡±
¡°Fine. Where is she?¡±
¡°Far Point.¡±
The prodigy? Impossible!
Xilor whirled around and wrenched the door open, robes billowing in his wake. He could teleport away, but the walk gave him time to contemplate his next move. Need urged him to watch the mage, observe her, and find a way to bend her to his will. If she refused, he¡¯d kill her.
Though tempted to devote more time to the conundrum, he had other plans already in motion. His feet carried him back to his throne where he sat and decided his next move.
Chapter 49: The Previous Life of Lily
The next week passed in a haze of detailed promiscuity, and Julie didn¡¯t want it to end. Ever. Every night, they engaged, and sometimes, throughout the day. Julie noticed that when other people went about their activities, the desires didn¡¯t take hold. In Kam and Lily¡¯s presence, it roared back to life like emitted pheromones destined for only her. In gluttony and greed, she drank. She exhausted every waking moment with Lily.
On the morning of the following day, Lily came to her room, stirring the younger from slumber. Lily disrobed and pulled her into the bath. ¡°Kam wants to play with you again,¡± she said with a smile.
¡°What? Now?¡±
¡°Tonight, if that¡¯s alright?¡±
Giddy, Julie nodded. ¡°Sure.¡± Her head swam in Lily¡¯s presence.
¡°We need to make preparations, then.¡±
¡°What preparations?¡±
Lily held up a razor and Julie frowned. ¡°I¡¯ll be gentle, but it pleases him,¡± she stated, before shaving Julie smooth like her, using Kam¡¯s shaving oil and lather. ¡°He¡¯s taken a liking to you,¡± Lily assured her, relentlessly, that she was fine with their relations, almost to the point of emphatic.
Late that night, she presented Julie to her husband. Lily attended from a chair while Kam took her, just the two of them, which became a common occurrence and made the wife happy. If Julie was truthful, she preferred when Lily was there, watching. She always kept eye contact and divined a connection to Lily while she made love to her husband. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Julie thought this strange, but Lily achieved gratification, and when pressed, the older woman placated her worries.
On the second night, after Kam chased Oblivion, Julie pressed Lily. ¡°Why do you stop me? Do you not like me?¡±
Lily blinked and smiled. ¡°Oh, I like you just fine, but our time together isn¡¯t about me, it¡¯s about him. My husband¡¯s pleasure and happiness is the most important thing to me. Whatever he asks, I do. He likes you.¡±
¡°How do you know?¡±
To this, Lily only smiled. Instead, she countered. ¡°Which do you prefer?¡±
¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± she said honestly. ¡°You. Him. Both? What about you?¡±
¡°I prefer men, but I like women, too, I¡¯m just selective.¡±
Julie took it as a compliment and decided not to press any further.
There were several sides to the quiet, well-muscled man. Hours spent as a blacksmith in Ralloc toned him though he hailed from the Forgotten Isles. He didn¡¯t speak much, but when he did, only soft spoken words meant for his wife passed his lips. Julie received her fair share and savored his adoration.
In her room, alone, he was soft and gentle in his indulgence, and other times he almost hurt her, just shy of the threshold of pain. At times, he¡¯d please her orally before copulating; sometimes, he desired the same of Julie. Repeatedly, he took Julie from behind in ways she was sure most men did not. Slow and gentle, she learned Kam¡¯s penchant. She tried to please him, remembering the ease in which his wife mastered his passions. Lily seemed to enjoy watching Julie struggle.
The first time he took her in this manner, it caught her by surprise. Lily, aware of his intentions, either by facial expression or in the way he carried himself, warned against his want.
¡°She won¡¯t do it; she can¡¯t.¡±
Julie looked between the two, her head swimming. ¡°I want to.¡±
Lily laughed. ¡°You don¡¯t realize what you¡¯re asking.¡±
¡°Will it please him?¡±
With a solemn face and a slow nod, Lily answered, ¡°Very much so.¡±
¡°Then, I want to.¡±
¡°Do you trust me?¡±
¡°Yes,¡± Julie breathed without hesitation.
¡°Then, you¡¯ll need Rakette for this.¡±
Julie took the herbal compound. A few moments after downing the dosage, she felt all her sexual desires heightened. A kiss from Lily sent chills arching through her body, her pupils dilating. Satisfied that the herb took hold, Lily let Kam have her. She was never far from Julie during the newest encounter, making sure she received as much satisfaction as Kam did.
Afterward, she asked Lily about the experience. The older woman chuckled and said, ¡°Kam¡¯s an Islander. You¡¯ve never heard about them?¡± She waved the question away, ¡°I¡¯m not sure how much truth there is to reputation, I never asked. Who knows, maybe its a cultural thing. I¡¯ve done worse.¡±
Curiosity piqued, she desired to inquire further, but Lily¡¯s face made her come up short, knowing the timing wasn¡¯t right.
Learning, Julie watched the couple from the edge of the bed, her head swimming with magelust. Each night Lily would teach Julie something new, things that would take her years to discover on her own.
On the third night, after Kam¡¯s nightly dose, Julie posed a line of questions similar to the night before but tweaked it. ¡°Why are you okay with your husband taking me?¡±
Lily smiled. They bathed together, Julie leaning back into the wife. Candles burned low, and a small fire crackled in the fireplace. ¡°Kam loves me and always has. He¡¯s good to me. I was a prostitute in my youth, a choice done for various reasons I¡¯d rather not get into at the moment. He bought out my contract from the establishment¡¯s owner and married me. He loved me for a long time and always treated me with respect. For that, I adore him. Sometimes, he¡¯d buy me for a night or even a week so I wouldn¡¯t work, and he never partook of me unless I offered it. I swear, he¡¯s the last of the gentlemen in Ralloc.¡±
She paused in her story, and Julie turned around. A myriad of expressions flickered across Lily¡¯s face: solemn, shame, heartache. She continued. ¡°At times, I feel guilty for all the men I slept with in service to Lord Brenton, but Kam never once complained. It must¡¯ve been hundreds of men, thousands, countless. After a hundred, I quit tallying; I didn¡¯t want to know. I felt shame, allowing myself to become a whore, even for the best of intentions. Life deals unfairly, to say the least.
¡°Occasionally, I find him another woman to enjoy, so I don¡¯t feel so guilty about my past,¡± she said, her face changing from depressed and aggrieved to something more like endearment when she looked at Julie.
¡°But he never asks,¡± she clarified, ¡°and he¡¯s never ran around on me, never does anything to me unless I want it. He worked hard to save up the money to buy my contract, years worth of savings, and worked even harder to buy me a house and allow me to travel, visiting whatever family will still accept me after my profession. How can I not love a man like that? How can I not try to please him in any way I can? How could I refuse to make him happy?¡±
She smiled. ¡°Almost every woman I found for him, he turned away, and he¡¯d only join if I was involved. Afterward, he told me he never wanted to see the girls again, even the ones he turned away. So each time, the search became harder.¡± She sighed. ¡°He¡¯s only been with two other women since we married, and each of them only once, but he¡¯s never taken them by himself, not like you. You¡¯re the first, which is how I know he likes you.¡± Lily kissed her, and she felt the passion beneath. ¡°You should come to Ralloc. You could stay with us.¡±
Julie beamed, her chest warm with amorous feelings. ¡°Maybe.¡±
Since Lily¡¯s tale, Julie saw Kam in a new light. He had his faults, but who didn¡¯t? Even with his drug addiction, he was never once vile with either of them, and she loved the way he treated his wife. Julie was envious of Lily and the near-perfect man she married. Would Julie be able to find a man like that? Kam accepted Lily for what she¡¯d been, seeing her beauty when others abused her. Julie found it hard not to love him herself after hearing the story, but couldn¡¯t discern her personal feelings from Lily¡¯s, unsure if they were genuine or if they bled over like the lust.
Lily gave Kam free reign to visit Julie anytime he wished on the condition of Julie¡¯s approval. A few times during the early afternoon,he came to her room, and she eagerly welcomed him. His visits varied, pleasing her with his mouth and she him, with frantic, sweat drenching passion mingled throughout. A particularly exciting moment occurred when he didn¡¯t disrobe her, but pulled her small clothes down and entered her, a salacious, taboo, hurried act. She enjoyed those quiet moments with him. No matter which way he took her, he always released his seed inside her. Lily supplied a steady stream of dewgrass for pain and swelling, but towards the end of the week, she took it less and less.
When Julie and Kam weren¡¯t exploring each other in isolation, Lily and Julie entertained each other, mostly after Kam passed out, but that didn¡¯t mean they didn¡¯t spend time together during the day. Lily taught Julie the knowledge she acquired from her profession and hungrily observed Julie practicing on Kam. She instructed Julie how to achieve an orgasm regardless of what Kam did to her. The process required a bit of mental concentration on her part, but she was grateful for the experience.
Though explained, Julie only made the connection through magic. She didn¡¯t believe Lily at first, but when she witnessed Kam and Lily the next night, she reached her climax several times, making Julie a believer. The oddest part, a second sight overcame her, a sight with magic. Lily¡¯s aura turned different colors, especially in states of extreme bliss. Julie matched the color of crimson to Lily¡¯s sexual climax; she glowed brighter and brighter, knowing it was real every time. She never faked with Kam. And with Julie, Kam always shifted to a shade of blue, but she kept that knowledge to herself.
Lily¡¯s specialty in Lord Brenton¡¯s establishments was oral stimulation, and she showed Julie the varied techniques. By the fourth night, Lily trained Julie how to bring her husband to his culmination.
¡°The secret to having a great married life is to have a great sex life, and to do that you got to keep an open mind,¡± Lily advised. ¡°As long as you are clean about it, you should always be willing to try.¡±
Each time that the blacksmith came to her, either privately or with his wife, Julie strived to be Lily¡¯s equal, to emulate her in every lecherous manner. Once, the magelust proved too strong and made her sick. With Lily, she could control her apparent yearning if she chose. When she and Lily came together, it was by choice. Adding Kam into the mix, a crazed compulsion dominated, and she was helpless to controlit. Nor did she want to.
Their times together didn¡¯t always involve the bedroom. By day, Lily and Julie strolled the streets, peering into windows of shops, debating on becoming patrons. Julie, with her limited wardrobe, cycled through her robes quickly, having them laundered each day. When Lily saw this, she dragged Julie into a tailor¡¯s shop and fitted her for two new sets. Madam Elaine, the establishment¡¯s owner, fulfilled her the order with deft magic. Finding a fellow mage, Julie queried her profession.
¡°You could be a master wizard or higher in Ralloc!¡±
¡°I¡¯ve been to Ralloc,¡± she said, her tone sharp. ¡°I tried my hand at becoming a high wizard, but my heart wasn¡¯t in it, never has been. I¡¯d rather follow my passions. I can¡¯t be a master wizard of tailoring in Ralloc, but I can be a master tailor in Far Point.¡± She moved to the back room to fill the order, and Lily sidled up to Julie.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.
¡°Is that what you want? To be a master wizard?¡±
Julie shook her head, moving through the rows of folded clothes and fabrics. ¡°I just don¡¯t want anyone to take control of my life.¡±
Lily smiled. ¡°Hun, I think everyone wants that.¡± She stopped by the section of underclothes, her eyes roving over the selection. With a tug, Julie came close, and she questioned. ¡°Which do you like?¡± Julie felt the blushing heat flower her face, but she said nothing. Lily picked up a pair of salacious, black silk undergarments. ¡°Kam likes black. You should wear this for him.¡±
¡°No,¡± Julie voiced in a rush, turning redder. ¡°You should wear them for him.¡±
The other laughed, a merry mirth. ¡°Please, I have so many at home.¡± Lily methodically shifted through the section, unfolding whichever caught her fancy before putting them back. Madam Elaine returned after a while, bringing the two sets of robes to the counter. ¡°Right, then, that¡¯ll be two sets of linen robes with inner and outer. Total is forty scepters.¡±
Lily gave her an admonishing look. ¡°Come now, the most people ask is fifteen scepters per robe.¡±
Madam Elaine nodded. ¡°Oh, aye, but most cannot tailor a set within ten minutes of you picking out which ones you like. Speed, dearie, equates to the extra charge.¡±
Lily nodded and smiled. ¡°True.¡±
¡°Anything else?¡±
¡°Just this,¡± Lily said, tossing up the black silk undergarments.
¡°No!¡± Julie protested, reaching for them.
¡°Hush,¡± Lily insisted, holding her hands away.
¡°Excellent selection,¡± Elaine commented. ¡°It¡¯ll make your husband quite happy.¡±
¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯m counting on,¡± Lily cooed, suppressing a smile.
¡°Silk undergarments are forty-five scepters. Eighty-five scepters total.¡±
Lily doled out three silver chips and received five copper bits in return. Madam Elaine thanked them, and the girls left arm in arm.
¡°I wish you didn¡¯t,¡± Julie commented once they reached the busy street. Guilt rankled her from lack of having anything to give in return. Having sex with Lily¡¯s husband only compounded the issue.
¡°You need to stop worrying so much,¡± Lily chided her. ¡°I¡¯m a giver; giving makes me happy.¡± She leaned in closer. ¡°So, try to be a little excited.¡±
Julie smiled. ¡°Okay, I¡¯ll try. Thank you.¡±
¡°You¡¯re very welcome, my dear.¡±
A flicker of darkness clouded the young woman¡¯s face. ¡°Please, don¡¯t call me that.¡±
Perplexed, Lily frowned. ¡°What? What¡¯s wrong?¡±
Julie shook her head. ¡°Someone I used to know called me that.¡±
Without another word on the subject, they walked down the road, finding a small caf¨¦, taking a seat, and ordering. Their conversation, small and idle, comments on the food or past experiences until Julie broke the routine. ¡°I want to go to Ralloc with you.¡±
With fork lowering to her plate, Lily paused mid-bite. She beamed at Julie and finished her mouthful. ¡°Really? Do you mean that?¡±
A pang of sadness entered the young girl¡¯s eyes. ¡°Yes, I want to, but I can¡¯t.¡±
¡°Why not?¡±
Julie let out a sigh. ¡°You¡¯ve told me about your past, but I haven¡¯t told you about mine. The trouble is, I can¡¯t remember my past. For me, this week with you, this will be my past. I woke up not too long ago, but it seems like an eternity. I don¡¯t know who I am, where I come from. Do I have a family? Who knows my real name?¡±
Lily brushed a lock of blonde hair behind her ear, her elbows resting on the table. ¡°But your name is Julie.¡±
¡°Is it? When I woke up, that¡¯s what he called me. For all I know, my name could be Rebekah.¡±
¡°Who¡¯s he? A lover? Husband?¡± Julie shook her head and waved the question away. Lily pursued. ¡°Is he the one that used to call you dear?¡±
With a sidestep, the younger woman continued. ¡°I want to come back with you to Ralloc and start a life, but I can¡¯t. You¡¯re the closest thing I have to a friend. In time, I could call you sister or more. These last few days with you have been amazing.¡±
¡°Of course,¡± Lily gave a malicious grin. ¡°I¡¯m astonishing in bed.¡±
This caused Julie to laugh, but her eyes misted. ¡°No, I¡¯m not talking about that. You¡¯re everything I could want except one thing, and it¡¯s something I can never have with you.¡±
¡°What can¡¯t you have with me?¡±
¡°Power.¡± The finality of the word rested between them.
¡°What can power bring you? What¡¯s it worth? More than me and Kam?¡±
¡°It¡¯s not worth more than you and Kam, but it¡¯ll benefit my life.¡± Julie shook her head, blinking back her welling emotions. ¡°There¡¯s so much you don¡¯t understand.¡±
¡°Then, tell me. Help me understand.¡±
Julie took a bite of the cake sitting before her, chewing to acquire time. Swallowing, she continued. ¡°You awoke me to a life I never fathomed. A friend, shopping, sharing stories¡ªwhere I¡¯m going, I¡¯ll never have this. But at the end of my journey, it¡¯s what I want. Does that make sense?¡±
Lily nodded. ¡°Very much. It was the same feeling when I first met Kam. At the end of my road, I wanted someone like Kam, but I knew along the way, I had to sacrifice immediate wants for the ultimate desire.¡±
Julie set her fork down. She couldn¡¯t finish the cake. The next few words made her sick to her stomach. ¡°Returning to Ralloc with you is my sacrifice.¡±
¡°Oh,¡± Lily said, deflated. In a rush, she asked, ¡°Is it Kam? Was he rough with you? Did he hurt you?¡±
¡°No, no,¡± Julie smiled, shaking the ludicrous questions away. ¡°Nothing like that. Kam¡¯s an adoring man, and I¡¯d be lucky to have someone like him. And there¡¯s nothing wrong between you and me. Your offer severely tempted me for a time. I nearly faltered, but I started something, and I need to finish it.¡±
Worried, Lily inclined forward. ¡°Are you leaving now? I thought you were leaving tomorrow.¡±
¡°I don¡¯t want to leave, but tomorrow, I have to.¡±
¡°Kam said since you¡¯ve yet to accept the offer, it meant you weren¡¯t going to come home with us.¡±
¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±
Crestfallen, Lily reclined. ¡°Is this goodbye?¡±
Julie¡¯s chest tightened. ¡°Do you want it to be?¡±
¡°No,¡± came the immediate reply.
¡°Neither do I.¡±
¡°Good,¡± Lily sniffed, sitting up. ¡°Kam¡¯s taking this hard. He really likes you.¡±
¡°You don¡¯t think¡.¡±
¡°That he loves you?¡± Lily shrugged. ¡°Now? Probably not. In time? Maybe.¡±
¡°Does that worry you?¡±
Lily smiled again, ¡°Not at all. In time, I hope you learn a simple truth: it is possible to love two people at once. One day, if you come and live with us and he grows to love you, it won¡¯t make his love for me any less. If all three are there for each other, we¡¯ll be stronger together.¡±
I don¡¯t know if that¡¯s the life for me.
Julie tilted forward. ¡°The most important question is: do you want me in your life?¡±
Lily placed her hand on top of Julie¡¯s. ¡°Without reservation. From what I see, I like. I think you¡¯re holding back, and while I may not understand the what, the why is evident. If you wish, keep your secrets.¡±
The word secrets sent a chill down Julie¡¯s spine, harking back to the book Judas gave her in the swamp. She was the Bearer of Secrets, another affirmation that she made the right choice in leaving. She stood precariously on the edge, tempted to abandon everything and stay with Lily. But the seduction of friendship couldn¡¯t overcome her vow.
I¡¯ll never be weak again. I¡¯ll never be helpless.
¡°Will you join us tonight?¡± Lily broke into her thoughts.
She blinked. ¡°Yes, if you want me to.¡±
¡°Good,¡± Lily said, standing. She left three bits of copper on the table, more than enough to cover their meal. Julie pulled up beside her as they exited, Lily snaking her arm into the younger¡¯s. ¡°Will you take Kam now?¡±
¡°What about you?¡±
She shrugged, a coy smile on her lips. ¡°Someone¡¯s got to start packing, and Kam can¡¯t fold clothes worth a damn.¡± Julie deliberated. ¡°Oh, please,¡± she pressed. ¡°It¡¯ll be the last time with you for a while, excluding tonight, of course.¡±
¡°Will he be up for it?¡±
¡°Wear the black undergarments I bought you, and he will be.¡± Lily laughed, and the younger shared her smile. ¡°Go on ahead; I¡¯ll send him to your room. Make him happy.¡± Julie took off, and Lily shouted to her. ¡°Wear the black!¡±
An hour later, Kam entered her room. His gray eyes took her in; the black silk hugged her form, and he hungered for her. Since this was the last time she and Kam had privacy, she wanted the time memorable. When he neared her, her tentative touch found him eager and she kissed him, standing on her toes. With slow movements, she undid his sash.
¡°This will be our last time together,¡± she said in breathy tones, kissing him. ¡°Take me like you would your wife.¡± She lowered to her knees, encouraging him to do as she asked. Kam twitched at her swirling, indulgent caress.
¡°Are you sure?¡±
From below, Julie could only nod; trepidation and exhilaration trembled through her. She stood and turned, pulling her soft silk garment down, bending over for him. Massive arms draped across her diminutive back; his velvety tongue explored her before he entered her. He adhered to her wish and took her vigorously. Through the haze of pleasure, she couldn¡¯t perceive where he ended and she began, her flesh tight around him. At some point, Lily entered the room, finding her husband deep in her. Sheets entwined through her legs, both husband and lover glittered with sweat. A thrum of bliss churned through her, his ardent fingers thrilled her responsive body.
With halting movements, Kam reached his pinnacle inside her. His kisses trailed down her spine, unsheathing himself. Quivering, Julie pushed herself off the bed. Kam wrapped her up in his arms, kissing her fiercely, taking her breath. His hands snaked down her slick back, squeezing her buttocks. When he broke away, she panted, almost falling out of his embrace. Lily stood nearby, holding his clothes, and she received a kiss of equal passion. Once Kam left, Lily, with a knowing smile, proffered two servings of dewgrass.
They spent the rest of the afternoon in each other¡¯s company, which later included Lily, and it passed filled with wishes and warm conversation. Looking back at the past week, Julie used most of her time with Lily, and the majority in acquaintance rather than promiscuity. Even if the lust never brought them together intimately, Julie found she enjoyed the older woman¡¯s companionship; Lily was the other part of her missing soul. She¡¯d never had a friend like her, and she¡¯d never forget her.
Lily opened Julie¡¯s eyes to a life of new and distinct possibilities, something that¡¯d never happen under Judas¡¯s tutelage. Perhaps, had she studied under Madam Meristal Raviils, she would¡¯ve learned something similar, but she still held doubts. Unfortunately, Meristal only had eyes for Judas, and that was good for her, but not for Julie. She seemed wound too tight to come close to Lily¡¯s free spirit. Julie envied the nonconformist lifestyle. Fervent hopes of joining her in the future kept Julie from sinking into a bleak melancholy.
After Kam had drifted off to sleep that night, Lily walked Julie to her room, coming inside. Both laid on the bed; Julie curled up in Lily¡¯s embrace, her back to her. In the forgiving darkness, Julie bared her soul and spoke of the Corridor of Cruelty and what she experienced, recounting Mr. Pleasure and all the sick, sadistic things he did. Recalling the depravities, how he broke her, how she didn¡¯t care anymore was cathartic. The book promised to lock her feelings away, and the bond held true. She spoke with impartial reflection, but inside, a preferred hollowness dwelt.
The desolation made her weary. She doubted the point of life devoid of simple pleasures until she found Lily.
Julie spoke in slow, modulated tones, scarcely above a whisper at first. She relived the nightmare with halting words. The massive knot in her chest eased, and the words poured out. In a way, talking eased the burden, but she wished that she could forget altogether. By the time she ended her tale, tears drenched her as Lily held her tight, weeping with her. The book failed to block the mental trauma or the scars the Corridor left.
Lily slept in her bed, holding her.
When Julie awoke the next morning, she noted Lily¡¯s absence. She knocked on their door, but an older woman with a sour-looking expression answered instead. Julie searched for them in the common room, but they were gone.
Returning to her room, she gathered the last of her possessions to stuff in her pack but inside, folded parchments caught her eye. In haste, she unfolded it, excited.
Dearest Julie,
Our paths crossed but for a fleeting moment. Though your journey pulls you away, you¡¯re never far from our minds and hearts. With sadness, I shared the pain of your tale, and with a broken heart, I leave you before you wake. Should you ever come to Ralloc, our door is always open to you as a friend or as a lover.
Yours,
Lily.
Detailed instructions for finding their house came on the second page. Ralloc was a massive metropolis, and without her words to guide her, she¡¯d never see them again. Though sad they left without a goodbye, a part of her was relieved, knowing it¡¯d be so much harder face to face. She couldn¡¯t ignore the strong impulse to abandon her quest, and in the end, was glad she didn¡¯t put herself in that position.
Her possessions gathered, she left the room without a backward glance, determined. She took her last complimentary meal alone, eating only half before she, too, found no reason to stay. A pang of emptiness rumbled in her chest with Kam and Lily gone.
Pack slung over her shoulder, she left Far Point¡ªand the brief, erotic life she lived¡ªbehind.
Chapter 50: Julie
Julie cursed whatever gods listened. She inquired about a horse from the limited stock in Far Point, but the cost of such a noble steed far exceeded the scepters she took from Judas.
A horse would be much better than walking.
A simple riding horse would set her back two bright eyes and ten chips in Ralloc or similar areas. In Far Point, the price doubled. The availability of horses was scarce, and people begrudgingly parted with the animals at the right price. When she¡¯d asked the stable master, he shrugged, ¡°Supply and demand.¡±
What in the Underworld does that mean anyway?
Instead of riding happily to her destination, she walked in misery. Minutes crept by like hours as she put the city-town behind her. She thought back to when she decided to leave Judas. For a moment, a state of reservation overcame her, reflecting on the folly for listening to the book. But she remembered Mr. Pleasure and Judas doing nothing to stop him, which hardened her resolve.
Back in Far Point, she¡¯d dropped the appropriate amount of silver down on the bar top to pay for her room, but the bartender shook his head and slid it back to her. ¡°Your friends paid before they left this morning.¡± She nodded in appreciation. An honest man? Sliding coins across the counter, she left him a sizeable tip before following the main road south out of the village. Julie passed the guards as they opened the huge, wide, wooden gates. On the opposite side, a line had formed with dozens of people waiting to rush into the town to buy, sell, or trade their goods. While technically a city, Julie thought it too small, but could only compare it to Dlad. Perhaps having seen the larger municipality first skewed her perception?
She strolled past the line, giving them little more than a curious glance. After thirty minutes of walking, she passed the last stragglers trying to get inside. The land opened up into rolling hills and sporadic vegetation. Far to the right, barely within sight, lay a forest.
She stared at the ground while she trekked along the dusty road, her thoughts flowing from one thing to the next: Judas, the room she slept in, waking to an open window, and the book she carried. Mostly, she thought about Kam and Lily, more so the latter and the hours they shared together. For the first time, she had a friend, this ostensible stranger. The suns climbed steadily higher in the sky as she trudged on, warming her back from the north. Not stopping for more than a few moments at a time, she kept a slow but steady pace.
The carnage she saw in her Shadowcasting, all the death created by one person¡¯s lust for power, weighed on her. It was all Xilor¡¯s doing. The pointless deaths, the bodies littering the battlefield sickened her, turned her stomach. Some suffocated, drowning in their blood, others impaled through their gut or chest. She couldn¡¯t shake the images out of her head, wanting an end to the pointless butchery. Most of all, she craved to be the one to end it. How she¡¯d manage to stand against Xilor¡¯s apparent power made her skeptical, if not deflated. Judas would have to do it.
She tried hard to push those thoughts aside. When she did, only the daring memories of the Corridor of Cruelty invaded, a place she never wished to return, or to let them haunt her memories. She hoped they were gone, washed away by Harold, Kam, and Lily, but the fresh horrors tormented both her waking and sleeping mind now that the married couple no longer distracted her.
Musings returned to the euphoric, intoxicating presence of coursing magic, when it surged at her call, the connection to Xilor realized. Julie shuddered at the thought. Was she inherently evil like him? A pang of yearning for a repeat of the presence snaked through her. Only the magelust compared, a close second. Xilor felt the pull, and it corrupted him. Would she become corrupt, too?
Judas¡¯s power rivaled the dark lord¡¯s; why hadn¡¯t he fallen under the sway? Perhaps a fundamental flaw within Xilor made him succumb. Maybe there was something wrong with her, too; she was already defective, unable to block the magelust.
Elation rippled through her again, recalling the objects in Mr. Pleasure¡¯s room rising to her command. How had she managed to do it? A dark whisper fluttered in her mind. The voice made it possible. Panic, brought on by the men and their intent, allowed her to focus. What remained unclear in those moments was who was in control, her free will, or the voice lurking in the background?
When Mr. Pleasure freed her, rage drove her to retaliate in kind. Still, the sound of metal striking stone serenaded her memories. A savage bloodlust taking hold, but Judas¡¯s face, his hand on her shoulder, saved her, chasing the voice away. Why did the voice always flee?
You know why.
She shook her head in denial.
You can¡¯t lie to me, the voice purred. I¡¯m a part of you, remember? I see and feel everything you do. Even the thoughts you deny.
What are you? Julie¡¯s breath burned in her lungs as she waited.
I¡¯m the part that¡¯ll keep you alive, the voice declared.
Julie tensed at the declaration. Judas was the voice¡¯s weakness. Why do you always flee from him?
Because you¡¯re ashamed and don¡¯t wish him to perceive that part of you. The voice fell silent, fading away.
Did the voice speak the truth? A part of her unrealized? Had it always been, and Julie just denied it? If anything, the voice awoke while in the thrall of Mr. Pleasure¡ªwhen he broke her.
¡°You¡¯ll find that pain and torture can be a pleasure, he had said. ¡±You¡¯ll learn to love it, for it is the only thing that makes you know you¡¯re alive. Pain connects everything. If you survive, you¡¯ll appreciate the pain of other things¡ªthe things of the world¡ªand they¡¯re nothingcompared to what I¡¯m going to do to you. In that, you may find comfort, for your life will be painless compared to this.¡±
Midday approached when she finally stopped by a small stream for a longer break. She worked her way down to the running water and knelt to douse her neck, face, and arms in the cool water. Cupping her hands together, she dipped them into the brook, bringing the cupped hands to her mouth. The crisp water refreshed her parched throat, moistening her dry lips. A contented sigh escaped her.
After satisfying her thirst and cooling herself off, she returned closer to the road and sat beneath the shade of a large oak tree. With her back comfortably resting against the trunk, she drifted off into a light doze.
Voices and the splashing of water awoke her. Eyes snapping open, her head darted around her immediate area for signs of threat. Seeing none, she climbed to her feet and took a few steps along the path towards the creek. She hunched, staying low. A few feet later, she spied a group of nine beings huddled around the stream. They were humanoid. Loose stones clattered down the gentle slope when she adjusted for a better view. With battle-honed reflexes, they jumped in unison, each assuming a unique stance, weapons drawn.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
In a panic, she rose from her concealment, backpedaling. Her hands groped through her robes, searching for her wand. Just as she thrust it forward, taking aim, a twirl of a man¡¯s staff sent it flying towards the stream. Weaponless, defenseless, the man advanced on her.
The vow tumbled in her mind: I will never again be helpless.
Attack him! the voice urged. You don¡¯t need your wand to destroy him. A man further down the hill barked an order, halting the progressing man.
No, not a man: an elyf.
Now that she could see them clearly, they were all elyves, but unlike any she knew. Skin of pale amethyst, their eyes varying with intense hues: cerulean blue, pale turquoise, strong olive-yellow, smoky-gray, and vivid gamboge-orange to name a few. The man with the staff had red¡ªscarlet more than crimson or rose. Each had vibrant, eccentric hair ranging from taupe to an ashen-gray color.
A flurry of conversation erupted between the nine, punctuated by gestures. It sounded fluid to her ears, a merry and smooth poetry. Her eyes darted between them as they spoke, to discern if they scrutinized her as she did them. At any given time, one watched her while the other eight ignored her.
A consensus seemingly reached, they gave her their undivided attention. Further down the slope, one male came forward, replacing the elyf nearest her. He knelt, then stood just as quickly, speaking, ¡°You must forgive our transgression,¡± he spoke in soothing tones.
¡°You speak Myshku?¡± she asked, perplexed.
He laid a hesitant, soft hand on her shoulder. ¡°My name is Iddrial.¡±
¡°Careful,¡± broke in the elyf with staff.
¡°Peace, Ahn,¡± the leader reminded him. Iddrial removed his hand from Julie¡¯s shoulder. ¡°We didn¡¯t mean to startle or harm you. We thought you to be someone else.¡±
¡°It¡¯s dangerous to tell her our names,¡± Ahn persisted.
Iddrial turned his head to the side, seeing Ahn out of the corner of his eye. Julie¡¯s gaze followed, noting their tense defensive postures. ¡°She doesn¡¯t have the faintest idea of who we are, Ahn.¡±
¡°Not yet,¡± a female elyf muttered.
Iddrial communed with them in Thymulous, the tongue of the elyves. Eight of them retreated, leaving Julie alone with Iddrial. His eyes were vivid gamboge, a shade or two darker and more orange than her own amber eyes. Dark ash-gray hair with thin strips of leather twined through reached his stubbled jawline. By the time Julie took all this in, the eight returned. Iddrial held out his hand, never taking his eyes off Julie, and proffered her property once it reached him.
¡°I believe this is yours, wizard.¡±
With a tentative hand, she accepted. Without a further word, the eight fled, crossing the stream and fading into the wildlife, disappearing without a sound behind trees, ferns, rocks, and shrubs. Iddrial took two steps backward before, he too, crossed and vanished.
Once out of view, she hurried back to the oak and collected her pack. She shouldered it and set out at a brisk pace, distancing herself as much as possible in case they decided to return and take her captive, or worse.
¡°Do you plan to walk the whole way?¡± a voice said from beside her.
She spun, brandishing her wand. Breath quickened as she searched for who called out. At first, she thought the elyves followed her, but she didn¡¯t see anyone. Out of her peripheral vision, she perceived movement close to the ground. Eyes and hand redirected, and she stopped herself short.
A small creature stood beside her, a woman, beautiful with an athletic build, and no more than nine inches tall. Her voice, pleasant, a coy grin on her face. Julie¡¯s hand dipped, lowering her wand. The small woman was an unavailing threat. The mage squatted down, enthralled by the tiny being whose hair shone bright like sunlight and spun gold.
¡°Why do you ask?¡± Julie queried the being, intrigued.
¡°Most wizards teleport, use porting stone, or buy a portal. If they can¡¯t, they ride a horse. But you¡¯re walking, why?¡± Her voice sounded like the soft rustle of wind chimes.
¡°I¡¯m not like other wizards. I can¡¯t teleport far distances yet. Can¡¯t do it at all, actually.¡±
¡°At least you can, most can¡¯t. And not everyone¡¯s fortunate enough to be born with wings.¡±
Julie took an instant liking to her, but she couldn¡¯t be sure if she pined for companionship since Kam and Lily went home, or if it was something deeper. Her soft voice charmed the wizard, and she radiated with an inner light, reminding her of Staell, the unicorn.
¡°My name¡¯s Julie. What¡¯s yours?¡±
The other gave her a brilliant smile. ¡°I know. You¡¯re the mage from beyond, and we share a bond through the wing in your wand.¡± She paused. ¡°We talk about you in the community a lot,¡± she added, as if the explanation filled in all the gaping holes of her thought process.
How does she know so much? Julie gave voice to the thought.
¡°I¡¯m a fairy,¡± she declared. She twirled around. ¡°See the wings?¡±
Julie leaned closer and could just detect her translucent and crystalline wings about half the size of the tiny woman. Light glittered off her as she twirled. A familiarity stole over Julie.
¡°Where¡¯s this community of yours?¡± Julie inquired. As she stood, hot pins of tingling stabbed her shins and feet, falling asleep from squatting.
¡°In the Melodic Mountains. That¡¯s where almost all fairies live.¡±
Just where I need to go! ¡°What¡¯s your name? You never did tell me.¡±
¡°I¡¯m Ava, daughter of the elder fairy, Fiosana.¡±
¡°Pleased to meet you Ava, daughter of Fiosana. Are you traveling, too? Where are you headed?¡±
¡°Wherever you are,¡± the other replied. ¡°I¡¯m to accompany you as your familiar. It¡¯s my honor, Head of Creatures.¡±
¡°I didn¡¯t expect company,¡± Julie admitted. A faint whistling floated through the air, the creature hovering at eye level.
¡°You¡¯ll want me to accompany you.¡±
¡°Oh yeah? Why?¡±
¡°Well, for one, my mother¡¯s wing is in your wand, hence our bond. Secondly, unless you want to walk the whole way, I can teleport us to wherever you wish to go. Within reason, of course.¡±
¡°Of course.¡± Julie suppressed a smile. In truth, she was mystified by Ava¡¯s proclamation, the daughter of the fairy who gave up her wing. Her ability to teleport came as an advantageous bonus. Ava, like most fairies, was from the Melodic Mountains, where she needed to go, to the Place of Origins.
¡°You have a bond with me? Why didn¡¯t you come sooner?¡±
¡°You were ¡ mating,¡± the little creature said.
Julie blushed at the thought of Ava knowing. As she reddened, Ava was quick to add, ¡°Only I know, no one else. Don¡¯t worry. Where do you wish to go?¡±
Choking down embarrassment, Julie answered. ¡°To the Place of Origins.¡±
Ava blanched. ¡°Why? There¡¯s nothing there.¡±
¡°So, you know it?
¡°Yes. There¡¯s only one place that isn¡¯t for fairies. There has always been only one, and there can only be one. Fife Doole¡¯s old hut.¡±
There had only been one? Julie thought to herself.
¡°Lead the way,¡± Julie suggested. Inwardly, she smiled and her embarrassment faded with rising hope.
A blue swirl opened before them, and Ava floated towards her, resting on her shoulder. Together, they stepped through the gateway.
Chapter 51: Judas & Chapter 52: The City of Despair
¡°Is this all that is left?¡± Judas posed the newly-appointed governor of Wizard¡¯s Pass. A light drizzle soaked him, his graying hair matted to the sides of his face.
¡°Yes,¡± the other replied with a pause. His hand wiped off excess water from his forehead. The pair walked through the aftermath of the battle. ¡°Our houses, burned or destroyed, our loved ones are scattered and dead. We are in ruins.¡±
Judas glanced around him. Ruins was an understatement. With the proper materials, had they been available, and with some help, he could magically put the village back together in a few days, a week at most, but nothing he did would erase the scars of what happened. As he surveyed the area, a woman winked into existence. His heart leaped for a fleeting moment, thinking Julie had returned. Disappointment strangled the hope. At first glimpse, the woman reminded him of Julie.
Meristal closed the distance between them; the hood of her outer robe covered her hair. Why did he think Meristal was Julie? A shuddering whisper beckoned him to follow the thoughts. Madam Raviils was shorter, more petite than Julie, but on both accounts, not by much. The thoughts fled when Meristal spoke.
¡°Judas. I just came from the Elyfian Enclave. The elyves decided to march against the vampires. I didn¡¯t realize they harbored such ill feelings, but a declaration is miraculous. Perhaps Scodd Yullus¡¯ voice is stronger than we realized. An elyfian Portal Master sent an advance guard, but the vampires subdued the forces. They pulled a victory when a legion of goblins flanked the elyves.¡± She paused, her eyes falling to the carnage before flickering to a cluster of people nearby.
¡°So, it has begun,¡± Judas muttered. He looked off into the distance, northeast, towards the Corridor of Cruelty. ¡°The board is set, and you had your opening volley. The next one is ours.¡±
¡°What are you talking about?¡± Meristal inquired, perturbed.
¡°Xilor moved against us, and now it is time for our counter strike. Forget about the lower domains of Marcoalyn and Stratu¡¯Geim. He isn¡¯t worried about dominating them; he doesn¡¯t need to. If he controls Ralloc, he controls the entire realm and possibly Ermaeyth herself.¡±
¡°What about Far Point and the barrier?¡±
¡°A ruse. It holds nothing of value or threat to him.¡±
¡°How will he obtain Ralloc?¡±
¡°Well,¡± said Judas pulling out his wand and striking the dirt by his feet. The dirt molded into a hasty replica of the Ralloc and Marcoalyn domains. He pointed to the dirt map. ¡°The elyves marched via a portal from the northeast down to Shadow City, west by southwest. Goblins marched from here,¡± he said, pointing to the Goblin Forest that lay in the southwest of the Marcoalyn domain, ¡°through the Corridor and up into Shadow City.¡±
¡°Do you realize what you are suggesting, Judas?¡± asked Meristal.
¡°Yes. The goblins have an insurrection on their hands. If the Leviathan caste rises against the Palatine caste in Goblin¡¯s Terrace, we could be looking at a Goblin Rebellion. Is there any word from Kellis or Lagelm on such things?¡± Meristal shook her head. ¡°That is good. Let us hope we don¡¯t entertain a massacre as well as a war. So let¡¯s assume the Leviathan caste circumvented the seat of power in the Terrace. They could hit Far Point, Troll City, or Cape Gythmel along the way. Any news in regards to that?¡±
¡°No,¡± Meristal assured him. ¡°Nothing. No sightings, no skirmishes. All is quiet. Any word on Julie?¡±
The warlock shook his head. ¡°All is quiet.¡± He hoped she was safe and not lost, injured, or dead. It would be a great blow to him, as well as to the realm, if the fairy¡¯s legend proved true. He wasn¡¯t disputing whether it was real or not, but was content to let it play out, if it did at all.
He cleared the phlegm in his throat and continued. ¡°This is a dangerous time. Our strongest fighters, the elyves, were stopped, and goblins are in the Ralloc domain. Xilor has already obtained a foothold on the upper domain, and he hasn¡¯t even shown himself on the battlefield. But he will come, and I can tell you where, too.¡±
¡°Out with it! I still need to warn the council!¡± Meristal said tartly.
¡°At the Corridor, Cape Gythmel to be exact, now that we learned where some of his forces are. Get back to the Ralloc and gather what forces you can muster, even without the help of the council, if you have to. He will strike soon, and this will not be like the last war, something planned, orchestrated and drawn out. Xilor retains the element of surprise and will plow over us before we can respond. We will make defenses at Cape Gythmel.¡±
¡°Then I have good news in regards to Cape Gythmel.¡± She hesitated, debating on what to say. ¡°Daniel came to see me.¡± When Judas didn¡¯t respond, she reminded him. ¡°The Heir of Valin.¡±
¡°I know who that pompous ass is,¡± Judas barked harshly, his azure eyes cold. He never liked the man, but he was useful. ¡°Let me guess; he wanted to bed you?¡±
Meristal ignored this. ¡°He sent a squad of Krey to Cape Gythmel for ¡®exercises.¡¯ They should arrive soon and begin fortifying.¡±
¡°The Krey,¡± Judas grumbled in disgust, his lips frowned.
¡°You know what?¡± Meristal snapped as she backed away, calling her magic to teleport. ¡°I would have figured an exile like you would be more compassionate to other outcasts. Stop being so closed-minded, Judas.¡±
Then, she was gone.
Chapter 52
A city of ruins greeted Julie. The stately community was a wasteland now. Once, high walls encompassed the grand municipality, but now lay crumbled, mere rubble, cracked in jagged lines. The prosperity leached, the once impressive entrance all but destroyed. A lone statue of a unicorn stood outside the gate. It stood, unblemished, upon its pedestal, untouched by time.
¡°What is this place? Where are the mountains?¡± Julie questioned. With cautious curiosity, she padded closer towards the destroyed remains.
¡°The City of Despair. Everyone stops here when teleporting. An anomaly similar to the Corridor, sort of.¡±
¡°Why is that?¡±
¡°It was destroyed by some form of potent magic. Perhaps the backwash of such forces drags you out of your teleport. But you have to be traveling fairly close for it to do that.¡±
Julie let out a pensive hum, marveling at the unmutilated statue. The cryptic writing at the base ensnared her attention. The writing seemed familiar, similar to the book. The words moved as she stared, bending and rearranging until they made sense to her.
¡°No one can read it,¡± Ava explained with mild irritation. Julie ignored her. ¡°You won¡¯t be able to,¡± Ava said louder, more forcefully, breaking Julie¡¯s concentration.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.
¡°You might be surprised,¡± Julie murmured, turning her attention back to the pedestal.
Once again, the words shifted, unlocking the hidden meaning. ¡°It says, ¡®You must understand the lost language, the shield, and key to entering the City of Despair.¡¯¡±
¡°Yeah, right,¡± Ava said, rolling her eyes. ¡°No one can read it, weren¡¯t you listening?¡±
¡°We¡¯ll see who¡¯s right,¡± she maintained. Julie stepped closer. Focusing on the letters in front of her, to speak in Ucoric, Julie spoke. ¡°Hello.¡±
¡°What did you say?¡±
¡°Hello, I think.¡±
As she said that, the statue¡¯s head animated and returned the greeting, ¡°Hello.¡± Without preamble, it returned to its solid state.
¡°By the One,¡± Ava muttered, her eyes going wide.
¡°What happened here?¡± Julie inquired.
The stone reanimated. ¡°Only the one who did this knows for certain. In one cataclysmic day, the city was destroyed, replaced with what you survey before you. An unfathomable power was released here.¡±
¡°What did he say?¡± Ava demanded. Julie relayed what the unicorn offered. Ava flew up high enough to peer over the wall. ¡°There is hardly anything. Just a dead tree to the far north side, and a temple-like building in the center.¡± She floated back down to Julie. ¡°Ask him how we get in.¡±
¡°How do we get into the City of Despair?¡± Julie tested the effigy.
¡°I can take you if you choose to go, but why would you?¡± the figure asked.
¡°I don¡¯t know, maybe to check out what¡¯s in that building,¡± Julie said, peering past the unicorn and through the obliterated gate.
¡°I shall do as you ask, if you wish.¡±
She swallowed. ¡°I wish it.¡±
¡°Follow me.¡± The unicorn¡¯s body shifted, the stone falling away, revealing the encased skin beneath. His flesh was not translucent nor full of light but a white coat like a horse. He stepped off his pedestal and trotted towards the opening. The mage hurried to keep up, and Ava fluttered down to sit on her shoulder. Julie was pretty sure that the unicorn was not real, but some form of magic; Staell spoke directly to her mind while this one spoke aloud. She did note the magic, the way the masonry faded, revealing his body. It was a neat trick, one that she¡¯d like to learn.
¡°What¡¯s in the building ahead?¡± Julie pried as they passed through the broken gate.
¡°Inside remains unknown to me.¡±
¡°Can you speculate?¡± Ava chimed in.
Julie and Ava both realized the fairy could understand what was said while she sat on Julie¡¯s shoulder. To test this theory, Ava took flight.
¡°It was built before the fall of the city, that much we can tell. Most assume Xilor built the temple.¡±
¡°A temple for what?¡±
¡°Who can tell but the one who built it? The temple did not cause the destruction; rather, it was the epicenter.¡±
¡°What would be the point of centering the magic here instead of somewhere else?¡±
¡°That is unclear.¡±
¡°What did he say?¡± Ava asked, settling on Julie¡¯s right shoulder. Julie explained as they waded deeper into the city, drawing closer to the building. ¡°Doesn¡¯t sound like much help if you ask me,¡± Ava replied upon hearing.
¡°I agree. Perhaps we will find more answers once inside.¡±
¡°You¡¯re more likely to find answers here than in the Melodic Mountains,¡± the fairy said offhandedly.
¡°What do you mean?¡±
¡°I have never been to Fife¡¯s place, but I¡¯m acquainted with it. Once Fife left, the place vanished, and no one has returned. Probably obliterated by Xilor¡¯s army.
¡°It has to be there,¡± Julie reassured herself.
¡°I will, of course, do as you ask.¡±
They reached the monument without further conversation; the guide stopped shy of the stairs leading up to the front door. ¡°I¡¯ll await your return,¡± it offered with a dip of its head.
¡°Thank you.¡± She made the same gesture before moving past him and up the stairs. Reaching the top, in place of a door, a void of impenetrable shadow veiled the secrets inside. No light or gaze pierced the veil.
¡°What is this?¡± Julie awed.
¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±
Julie stepped forward, testing the substance, a light caressing of her fingers. A jarring wave ripped through her, not of power for protection, but an emotional one, an impact of memories and sensations.
What happened here? Julie wondered.
¡°Are you alright?¡±
Julie instinctively put her hand on her forehead, hurt from the emotional surge. She reassured her companion. ¡°Yes, I am fine. I don¡¯t know. I got a sense of what happened here like all the memories pushed into my mind ¡ I can¡¯t describe it.¡±
¡°Let me try,¡± Ava said, pushing off Julie¡¯s shoulders and flying right for the blackness. Before Julie could react, the void swallowed Ava.
¡°No!¡±
Almost immediately, the fairy returned. ¡°Mistress, you must come and see this!¡±
¡°What¡¯s in there?¡±
¡°You will see,¡± she coyly answered. ¡°Come.¡±
Julie reached back out, letting the memories and emotions course through her. She stepped into the void.
Her breath rushed out of her in a gasp on the other side. A fleeting cold like ice flickered, evaporating from her skin as she passed the pall. Ava floated in front of her.
A circular room greeted her; in the center, a round podium made of honed granite sat on a tiled floor of sunburst-orange clay. On the podium were six shapes cut out of the stone and arranged in a circular pattern, each different from the last. A seventh carving sat in the innermost.
In addition to the podium, the building boasted two other entrances. Julie noticed that these openings were the same distance from each other. The room was perfectly symmetrical; the temple crafted to mathematical perfection.
With cautious steps, she crept to the center of the room. Closing on the dais, she noted small, acute markings near each carving, each inlay colored to match a different stone: garnet, pearl, aquamarine, ruby, diamond, amethyst, and topaz surrounded the centerpiece.
¡°This is interesting,¡± said Julie, bending closer.
¡°What is?¡± Ava solicited as she fluttered over towards Julie.
¡°These markings are nearly identical to the ones in my book. There are slight differences, perhaps for pronunciation.¡±
¡°Maybe the same language, just a different dialect,¡± Ava submitted.
¡°What is this place?¡± Julie voiced, more to herself than her companion.
¡°Your guess is as good as mine,¡± the other¡¯s voice dripped with exhaustion.
¡°You might be right,¡± Julie concurred, glancing at Ava. A frown formed on Julie¡¯s face.
Ava¡¯s voice sounded empty and hollow in the vast open area, but the mage could still hear the slight sound of chimes as she spoke and the distant whistle that followed the tiny creature. The hairs on the back of Julie¡¯s neck stood on end and goosebumps raced down her skin. A presence watched her. The feeling was familiar, akin to the Corridor, but the room remained vacant. A creeping shudder crawled up her back.
Movement caught Julie¡¯s eye, drawing her back to Ava, who glided towards the floor, not in a graceful manner but unpredictable, sporadic. She wasn¡¯t falling at a rate that would injure her, but her wings beat slower as she progressed to the floor.
¡°Are you alright?¡± Julie prompt.
¡°Yes, mistress,¡± she slurred. The mage knelt to catch her, but the fairy reached the floor, her legs trembling, folding beneath her. Her head touched the floor, and she lay peacefully. With careful fingers, she touched her.
What in the Shades of the Underworld happened? She looks so fragile.
¡°As do you,¡± a voice called out.
Bolting for her feet, the awareness of eyes gazing upon her returned again, stronger than before. ¡°Who are you?¡± she called out, looking wildly about without seeing no one.
¡°I am a voice from the past and a guide to the present.¡±
¡°What do you want from me? What did you do to my friend?¡± Julie¡¯s voiced, anxious.
¡°To bequeath what I have learned. To teach.¡±
¡°Seems like everyone is offering that lately,¡± she countered. Her hand slid to her wand, and she pulled it, the wood reassuring in her grasp.
¡°As should be expected. It¡¯s not every day you meet a nephiliam.¡±
¡°You got the wrong person. I am not a nephiliam. I¡¯m not from here. I¡¯m a Wcic.¡±
The voice laughed, raspy, oily, but not cruel. ¡°That is just a cover. You are not Wcic.¡±
¡°Yes, I am, they told me.¡±
¡°Who? The people who have been closest to you? It was a lie!¡± the voice said tartly.
¡°How do you know that?¡± she remarked flippantly. While she did not believe the accuracy of his words, there was a cold, creeping chill of truth to them. It was more felt rather than known.
¡°Because to be a Wcic, you can¡¯t be born in this realm ¡ and you were.¡±
Chapter 53: Xilor
Xilor entered the hidden, vacant room. The voice had goaded him into returning, foretelling his impending doom. Of all the atrocities he committed along his path to a better future, for the good of Ermaeyth, his doom was to be beaten by some wretch? The notion was ludicrous. The brazen and bizarre thought managed to elicit a laugh from Xilor, but the more he thought about the unlikelihood, the more it galled him. If the voice foretold of Judas destroying him, Xilor would worry. Judas had nearly defeated him before. But a child? Prodigy or not, she was untrained. Power was nothing without proper training.
Xilor stepped through the door and closed it quietly behind him. He crossed over to the one article in the room, a cabinet. It had been a long time since he opened the bureau, but he was still inside. He opened the doors, and a cubical mirror-like object sat undisturbed but mired in dust. With a few strokes of his fingers, he wiped the motes of dust away. The object did not reflect his image. Instead, it reflected the face of his old master. Though he could have killed him, he placed him in this prison, his eternal prison.
¡°I have returned, as you knew I would,¡± Xilor whispered softly.
The image turned to face him. ¡°What do you want, to see me this time as I prattle on about your fate some more? Fine, you are doomed! Or did you come to gloat about your latest accomplishment again, to cheat death?¡± the former master said. ¡°There is no cheating the Lord of the Underworld; eventually, you will find that out.¡±
¡°You thought it impossible. What a small mind you possess,¡± Xilor sneered. He paused, cocking his head to the side. ¡°I believe the Lord of the Underworld and I reached an understanding.¡±
¡°You haven¡¯t cheated death, only escaped its clutches. There won¡¯t be a second evasion,¡± the other snorted.
¡°I did not escape death. You cannot cheat what you are,¡± Xilor preened.
¡°That is something you never seem to understand. You cannot change who you are; it is your destiny. Destiny will have its way.¡±
¡°I am not trying to change who I am, but becoming what I¡¯m supposed to be.¡±
¡°An abomination?¡± Hadius countered. ¡°All things will be corrected in the end, whether you succeed or not. That is the way of the Time Wardens. Your stupidity will awaken them!¡±
¡°You have always been a fool! No wonder I destroyed you when I had the chance! Time Wardens?¡± he scoffed. ¡°Who can fathom what kind of path I would have taken under your prolonged tutelage. I would be a weak coward, a servant or slave. You were an incompetent old man then, and you fear motivates you now, coward.¡±
¡°Fear drives everyone!¡± Hadius Lacove spat back.
¡°I fear nothing!¡±
Hadius was silent for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet, controlled. ¡°Then, you are a bigger fool than I imagined. Those with power can be broken. That is why you sought a solution to mortality.¡±
The words echoed in Xilor¡¯s ears. It was a drumming, pounding sensation. Everything seemed to stop. Nothing mattered.
Could he possibly know? the thought twisted in Xilor¡¯s mind.
¡°How would you know of this?¡± asked Xilor, barely above a whisper.
¡°I¡¯ve seen it,¡± Hadius responded. ¡°I never told you I only saw the future and not the past. I chose to let you believe what you wanted.¡±
¡°Obviously,¡± said Xilor, finding confidence, ¡°you can¡¯t tell that well, considering you are here now where I placed you.¡±
¡°You¡¯re right. I cannot see precisely, only possibilities.¡±
¡°Possibilities?¡± Xilor peculiarly asked.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
¡°Yes, the future is not set, nor will it ever be set. When gazing into the future, you can change events just by seeing them. Like a pebble dropped into a pond, the water is still water; nothing changed except the movement, and only just. The prospective unfolding of time and events cannot dictate free will. Free will gives each being the ability to decide, act, or simply not to act at all. An unavoidable and unbeatable pattern.¡±
¡°I am tired of your riddles,¡± Xilor mumbled, rubbing his temples.
¡°Everything you do will be countered.¡± Hadius stopped, almost like in mid-sentence.
¡°Tell me more.¡±
¡°It is better for one¡¯s destiny to unfold,¡± the cube advised.
¡°Riddles? Lies? Nothing but deceit? Tell me or I swear to make your memory a lot more painful and meaningless.¡±
¡°Do not forget that lies and deceit are your way as well.¡± Hadius sighed heavily. ¡°Knowing what may come, you will strive to change it or make it happen. What may come is set or denied by your inquiry.¡±
¡°Out with it!¡±
¡°There are five doors in which the future will let you wander through. The first one is your ultimate victory. The only opposition is the man who was your first oppressor, and he will bury you under his heel. Judas Lakayre will defeat you and put an infinite end to your life, one that you cannot escape.¡±
Xilor mulled over the proclamation. He knew better than to interrupt. Hadius was doing what he desired, telling him the possibilities, so he understood the odds of his gamble.
¡°The second door will yield to your heart¡¯s desire. You shall be the emperor of the realms; everyone will answer fearfully at your feet, and you will discover lost magic. Immortality lies ahead. Through you, the Lord of the Underworld shall walk in the world of the Living.
¡°The third door is shrouded in shadow but through it, a tapestry of light guarded by a being of time and shadow, a Time Warden, and you will be destroyed. To glimpse the Time Warden is to glimpse death, but no gaze can pierce the shadowed cowl.
¡°The fourth door is strange. Nothing like this has ever transpired before, and nothing like this will ever transpire again. There is a magical being, a fallen angel of darkness and light who will crush you. This being is death for the death-bearer. You are the latter.¡±
This possibility intrigued Xilor more than the others. A fallen angel. He had never seen an archangel and didn¡¯t think they existed, but if they did, he was sure he could overcome them when the time came.
¡°The fifth and final door reveals the angel and death united. Hand in hand, they conquer realms and worlds of realms in the arms of the cosmos. All bow to your relentless oppression, and civilizations will crumble against the might of the angel.¡± Hadius breathed in deep and sighed noisily. ¡°What you do with this knowledge is up to you. I suggest, however, that you let Destiny play as she will and not force her hand.¡±
¡°I shall trust my intuitions about what to do next.¡±
¡°Then be prepared to accept the consequences.¡±
¡°Who is this fallen angel?¡±
¡°Why are you so interested?¡± queried Hadius.
¡°I have never heard of this angel. If ever confronted by him, I may offer him a choice and place beside me.¡±
¡°Interesting outlook, but I never said it was a he. You will never get or grasp the simple fact that not all power lies within man alone. You overlook what you do not understand.¡±
¡°A woman?¡± Contempt gushed through his sneering voice.
¡°Yes, a woman! She possesses the powers of both her parent¡¯s lineage, something that has not happened in a long time. The powerful bend and fall if she so chooses. She was much like you for a while, unaware of her true potential.¡±
¡°Then I will make sure she finds out what it is. Who are her parents?¡± Xilor inquired.
¡°It¡¯s of no consequence; she is a Wcic ¡¡±
A sudden knock came from the door. Xilor looked down at the cube in his palm, peering at him, trying to catch any deceit. In a whirl, he placed the cube back in the cabinet.
Who the hell found me? No one knows of this room!
After shutting the doors to the cabinet, he rushed over to the hatch and threw it open. Vlukus stood before him and bowed.
¡°The army is ready to march, and the xicx stand by awaiting your command, High One.¡±
¡°How did you find me here?¡± Xilor hissed.
¡°Since you created us, we can always feel where you are.¡±
That was a side effect he hadn¡¯t foreseen.
Damn! ¡°Never speak of this room to anyone.¡±
¡°Your will be done, High One.¡±
Xilor followed Vlukus through the winding corridors of Gryzlaud to the balcony overlooking the hold¡¯s courtyard. A stirring of what Xilor could only call joy flowered within his chest. His army of goblins, the small, cruel, and twisted beings of different hues and shades marched under the cover of darkness, conjured by his power. For a long time had he yearned for the thundering sound of conquering footsteps.
Now, the Second Wizard¡¯s War started in earnest.
Chapter 54: The Temple
¡°Have you ever heard of Rumigul?¡± the voice asked Julie.
¡°Yes, the ancient magic¡ªone about which most only speculate, one that corrupts.¡±
¡°Corruption,¡± said the voice, intrigued by her banausic knowledge of the arts, ¡°is in the mind of the beholder, and in the eyes of all who are too foolish to realize that power¡ªtrue power¡ªcan save. As far as being ancient, all magic is ancient, as history clearly states.¡±
¡°Your logic would seem sound, but I do not trust what I cannot see. Who are you?¡±
¡°I was once a pupil like you,¡± he said, his voice lightening for a moment. Julie detected a sly smile in his voice. ¡°Young, foolish, naive, until I learned Rumigul and beyond. I discovered its secrets, the true power, and nature of magic.¡±
¡°That sounds like corruption to me.¡± Julie clipped. ¡°My education is limited, but I¡¯m pretty sure that¡¯s what it is.¡±
¡°To understand the possessed depths, one must view all aspects; not just the arbitrary force-fed axiom through the Ages. Magic is old, older than we are. It is ever-changing and ever-evolving, and so, therefore, we must evolve and change as well,¡± he said mysteriously. ¡°Corruption stems from Derengi, something I cannot do. Derengi is akin to the powers of the Lord of the Underworld. There are similarities between the two.¡±
¡°If you have something to teach me about magic, then I am listening, but,¡± she emphasized the word, ¡°you haven¡¯t told me anything solid yet. I still don¡¯t know who you are.¡±
¡°Very well, I will tell you if you are willing to listen. My name is Rusem Geim. I was once lord of the lands south of the Melodic Mountains, King of the Stratu¡¯Geim domain.¡±
Not likely, she thought, rolling her eyes. ¡°What happened?¡±
¡°I died.¡±
¡°A lot of people die here,¡± said Julie quietly, thinking back to the vision of Judas in the battle in some far off town.
He lies! the voice in her head screamed. They all lie, they want you for their end purposes, just like Judas did.
Shut up! she told the voice.
¡°Yes, many people do, most of the time without cause.¡±
¡°I didn¡¯t realize you had to die for a cause,¡± Julie voiced solemnly. Her eyes flickered to the floor, catching a glimpse of Ava. ¡°What did you do to Ava?¡±
¡°I put her to sleep. This way we can talk without having to worry about being overheard and interrupted.¡±
¡°Is she hurt?¡±
¡°That would not bode well for trust, wouldn¡¯t you agree?¡±
Julie mulled over his words, finding truth in them. ¡°What is so important that she can¡¯t be awake to hear?¡±
¡°From my past, I have never been able to trust fairies. They are conniving pests and only look out for themselves, never trusting anyone. There are many things I could teach you, but I will impart one thing now that will serve you best. Think of it as an offer, a promise of more to come. This way, you will know who is lying to you, and you can find out why.¡±
¡°I find that hard to believe,¡± she doubted.
¡°Hold on to your beliefs, but with this new technique, you can be sure. Let me enlighten you,¡± Rusem pleaded.
¡°Alright,¡± Julie said warily. ¡°You may teach me this, and if it serves me well, perhaps I shall return and learn more.¡±Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
¡°You won¡¯t regret it,¡± he promised.
From the center of the pedestal, the sixth carving, a murky, white light arched out of the opening, streaming into Julie¡¯s eyes. She could feel the tingling sensation dance throughout her skull, coming in waves. Comparative to the book, it barely registered, more like a gentle caress. A warning went off in her mind.
She cautioned herself, Knowledge shouldn¡¯t be easy, but achieved through the process of education and dedication.
It was too easy. Perhaps she was accustomed to the struggle under Judas¡¯s tutelage. Somewhere, in the back of her consciousness, she knew that was wrong, both the struggle and easily acquired knowledge. War raged within her. The enlightenment showed her how to bend circumstances, mold them to her will if she chose.
Dominating someone to do what I want could be a good thing, the voice conceded.
It¡¯s wrong to possess anyone¡¯s mind or soul, no matter how dire the situation is!
Not even to save a life, to preserve it?
No, no life is worth the conquering of a mind.
Not even Judas¡¯ss? Lily¡¯s?
She answered with silence. The inner battle shifted, and she lost her moral ground. Julie would do anything to save Lily¡¯s life. Feasibly Judas¡¯ss, too. The voice sank its claws deep, taking root, dampening her conscience. She knew it would be the right thing, to save Judas and Lily, Kam, too.
She could wield abilities to end Xilor, but still, the conflict remained. She hadn¡¯t lost herself, not yet, but she was close. Julie stood on a precipice, not wanting to fall into the breech, but the fortitude to continue her fight abated.
A part of her admired the man who brought her into this magical world; the other half detested him for the Corridor and Mr. Pleasure. That place was a turning point for her, changed her, altered their relationship. She tried to understand his logic and couldn¡¯t. Turbulent anger flowed in her.
The light stopped, sudden, abrupt.
A man stood before her. He was older than she expected, his voice youthful.
Attractive, Julie smiled to herself.
An aura radiated about him, and his eyes reminded her of Judas, wise beyond his years. Her amber gaze scrutinized him from head to toe. He was a little taller than her, not by much, a whole head and then some shorter than Kam. The lust stirred within her, her insides burning with fire, strong, but not as much as with Lily and Kam. She clamped down introspectively.
Am I attracted to him or his aura?
¡°This,¡± the man said, ¡°is what I looked like before I died.¡± If he noticed her lust, he didn¡¯t give any indication.
Is it hot in here? ¡°Pity you¡¯re dead,¡± Julie demurred.
¡°Yes, but that doesn¡¯t mean that you can¡¯t come back and see me again.¡± He stepped closer, the lust growing stronger, and held out his hand. Julie opened hers to receive him.
Shades of the Underworld, where is Lily when I need her?
Instead, he dropped something into her palm. A ring.
Fuck! she mentally screamed. What a huge disappointment.
¡°This is a teleport ring. It will bring you straight here to this temple. No need to go through the gatekeeper anymore. Whenever you decide that you¡¯re ready, you can return.¡±
Her eyes swam, but as his image faded, so too, did the magelust.
Ava stirred. ¡°My apologies, mistress. I am ashamed for falling asleep.¡±
¡°Don¡¯t worry about it,¡± Julie assured her. ¡°It was not your fault.¡±
¡°How long was I out?¡±
¡°No more than ten minutes,¡± Julie lied. She had no clue how long they were inside the temple. ¡°Come, Ava, we¡¯re leaving.¡±
Together, they stepped into the void and out the other side.
¡°Back already?¡± the unicorn asked.
¡°What do you mean?¡± Ava pondered.
¡°You just went in. I swear to you, I have yet to take my eyes off the portal, and you reemerged.¡±
A sense of unease rippled through Julie, and she glanced back with uncertainty, letting her gaze linger for a moment. ¡°We¡¯re done,¡± Julie intoned, finding her voice. ¡°There wasn¡¯t much to see.¡±
¡°Follow me,¡± the unicorn offered.
They returned to the gate in silence, Julie letting her mind drift to what transpired. They had been in there for at least ten minutes, she was sure of it, yet only seconds passed for the unicorn. She mulled over her recollection, fumbling with the ring that Rusem Geim had given her. She wanted to test her prowess of mind-probing; the more she practiced, the less likely it would be detectable. When she grasped the ability, commanded it, she would turn her thoughts and will toward other talents. They would serve her needs, a collection, an arsenal at her disposal. And when the time was right, she¡¯d confront Xilor and bring an end to his reign.
By any means necessary.
Chapter 55: Meristal
The Kothlere Council Chambers always had a shine, an opulent sparkle to Meristal¡¯s eye. Today, however, the room didn¡¯t seem as bright or as beautiful. A dark mood rivaling the hue of the deep phthalo-blue carpets settled over the coming proceedings. To her, the chambers represented power, justice, prestige; to Judas, it represented oppression, vanity, irresponsibility. Since Kayis took office nearly a score of years past, the former Advocate of Law tended to agree with the warlock. Kayis was spoiled and tactless.
The decor always changed when a new consul took office, a way of signifying their mark. Tapestries of the noble Houses, the Dathyr House, in particular, adorned the walls. Gossamer curtains, rods of gold and silver, black walnut and cypress wood¡ªthe latter imported from the Vikal Mountains near the Krey¡¯s home¡ªall mirrored the attitude of those in power: egotistical luxury. Though a charming man at times, Kayis¡¯ ambition and alacritous rise made him drunk off his success. He wasn¡¯t an only child, but might as well be, the youngest with his nearest sibling two Ages older.
After being discredited, and the council exiled Judas, Kayis publicly shunned him. Avarice was a strong incentive in the Dathyr lineage. Launching a campaign with the title warlock as his platform, Kayis rose to prominence while playing on everyone¡¯s fears, claiming the highest office. The community feared what the title warlock represented more than they disagreed with Judas¡¯ss expulsion. Many still held Judas in high regard, but Kayis, seemingly born without a spine, lost her respect, long ago.
¡°Please,¡± Kellis, the goblin, offered, ¡°be seated.¡±
Meristal took a seat at the table below the bench, the members looking down at her. A few aides bustled about, helping the scribes with parchment and ink, ready to record the proceedings. ¡°Greetings,¡± she began stiffly. She folded her porcelain-white fingers in front of her.
¡°Please,¡± Lagelm said, flourishing a smile, his needle sharp teeth peeking through the gap in his lips. ¡°For one such as you, it is our honor. How may we be of service?¡±
She paused to consider the faces of the collective. Some seemed interested in what she had to say, but others, like Kayis Dathyr, had their minds made up. The ancient rivalry between Meristal and Daylynn twisted the latter to be less than inclined. Bile rose in her mouth recalling the cause of their animosity, but she trudged on, making sure to hide her displeasure.
¡°I¡¯m sure grave word reached Ralloc that many trolls laid siege to Wizard¡¯s Pass. Though a group of wizards and common folk were able to repel them, the toll exacted cost them numerous lives and the village itself.¡±
¡°Yes we¡¯ve heard,¡± Kayis said dismissively. His voice turned impertinent. ¡°Have you come with any fresh news, or have you come to plead the case of your loved one, making a name for yourself?¡± Though his power had blinded him to reality, he used his title as a right to belittle anyone or anything he chose, like a mad king to those he oppressed. He leaned back in his chair, reclined like a tyrant on a throne, a tight grin spreading.
¡°My name and my history are impeccable, beyond reproach from the likes of you, Consul. Thank you for your inquiry, though. And if you are referring to Judas as my loved one, again, you would be mistaken; he is not my loved one. Yes, I do come with fresh news, but the more you interrupt me, the longer it will take me to spit it out.¡±
An electric tension rippled through the chambers. Meristal¡¯s placid face and neutral voice gave nothing away. Her eyes held him, but she caught small smiles coming to a few delegates. Dathyr tried to undermine her, and she would not be cowed.
Kayis bristled and sat up, no longer slouching.
Meristal waited for a tantrum when Lagelm spoke up. ¡°I am interested in what message she brings. I will not tolerate any more outbursts about her personal life,¡± he said brusquely, throwing Kayis a sour look of displeasure. ¡°Please, Madam Raviils, continue with the news.¡±
Meristal was grateful for the vote of confidence. She wanted to express thanks with a glance but refrained from averting her eyes, knowing she would be the first to look away and lose whatever ground she¡¯d gained.
She continued. ¡°The trolls laid siege to Wizard¡¯s Pass and the Elyfian Enclave sent troops to Shadow City. Vampires routed the contingent with the aid of goblins.¡±
¡°Curious,¡± Dathyr sneered, ¡°the elyves marched to war without a declaration. I did not ask for assistance. I wonder where they got the notion. You? The renegade warlock?¡±
¡°I wouldn¡¯t know.¡±
¡°Wouldn¡¯t you?¡± Kayis countered.
¡°I am here in Ralloc and Judas is fleeing to only the gods could guess.¡±
¡°Is he?¡±
¡°What are you getting at?¡± Meristal snapped, perturbed.
¡°We are aware of the band of trolls that attacked Wizard¡¯s Pass, and that goblins that slipped through the Corridor and sought shelter in Shadow City. The question is: how are you familiar with those facts?¡±
¡°Wait,¡± Meristal said, rising from her chair. ¡°You knew about enemy movement, about both attacks, and have done nothing? How does someone as incompetent as you become elected? You realize war is starting and you are unprepared!¡±
Kayis¡¯s smile stretched, oily and filled with contempt. Meristal wasn¡¯t sure where he directed the contempt. Her? Judas? Ralloc in general? ¡°Careful!¡± he hissed. ¡°You not only address your consul, but nobility as well, peasant.¡±
Cheeks flushed red, but her words came halting, fighting for control. She loathed narrow-minded, pretentious people. ¡°You knew the goblins came through, and the vampires captured the elyves?¡±
¡°There is little I am not privy to. So, the elyves want to play war, let them. Let them kill each other. What do I care? They are not wizardkind or Rallocan.¡±
Meristal rarely lost her composure. She could see all sides of an argument and value each opinion for its uniqueness, but his attitude disgusted her. ¡°You are repulsive! You¡¯re cruel and xenophobic, no better than a boy playing with people¡¯s lives like they are your toys! You have no honor or remorse, and your lack of morals makes you equal to Xilor.¡±
A flurry of murmurs rippled through the room. Hushed conversations erupted from all the delegates and aides below the dais of the council. Some frantically whispered while others stood gawking. Whatever sway the consul had vanished, shifted. She had torn him apart in front of his supporters, saying everything they already knew and thought. But she stated it openly, not only in front of his fellow delegates, but the few people from the public sitting in attendance and the aides. Kellis broke in before she could continue or the other erupt.
¡°Who informed you about the goblins coming through the Corridor of Cruelty? I don¡¯t even know about that, and I¡¯m a goblin! The elyves marched?¡±
¡°Yes, we know,¡± Dathyr confirmed, reluctant.
¡°We do?¡± Daylynn interrupted, surprised. Her head turned towards him. ¡°I am just now hearing about it.¡±
¡°When did you hear of this disturbing news?¡± Lagelm queried.
¡°Word reached my ears shortly before the attack. I was pondering on whether to tell the council or not, the outcome inevitable either way, and the elyves defeat would not sit lightly here.¡±
¡°And lying to us would?¡± Sedrus the centaur yelled, stamping his hoof into the floor.
¡°It¡¯s not a matter of lying¡¡± Dathyr began.
¡°No, you just withheld important, time-critical information from us!¡± Daylynn said in clipped tones. Meristal noted the color in her cheeks.
At least she has some sensibility left, Meristal commended silently.
¡°Council members¡ª¡± said Dathyr, holding up placating hands.
¡°Clearly, you are not doing your job,¡± Kellis interjected. Both goblins had been uncharacteristically quiet since hearing their race was involved. Both Kellis and Lagelm were of the Palatine caste and not Leviathan, the latter having sided with Xilor. Goblins hailed from two castes: the Palatine, comprising the ruling body¡ªthe most identical to wizardkind, though shorter than dwaven¡ªand the Leviathan, roughly ninety percent of the population and were far more grotesque creatures with multiple limbs, mouths, or eyes and ranged in height. The Palatine kept control because of their magical abilities.
¡°What would a goblin know of my job?¡± Dathyr shot at the little creature, demeaning him.
¡°What would a wizard know of mine?¡± Lagelm countered. ¡°Withholding this information is a blatant contradiction to the vows you swore when you assumed office.¡±
¡°Don¡¯t talk to me about vows! Your race is in open rebellion!¡±
¡°Which we could have sent troops to quell,¡± Sedrus barked. ¡°There would be no uprising now.¡±
¡°And hampered Xilor¡¯s plans,¡± Lagelm joined, barring his teeth.
¡°You can¡¯t believe he¡¯s returned. It was a sham, a hoax. For all we know¡ª¡±
¡°We don¡¯t know anything!¡± Daylynn argued, rising to her feet.
¡°You are so caught up in schemes that you can no longer do your job,¡± Lagelm seethed.
¡°You betrayed our trust, your office, the people you are sworn to serve,¡± Sedrus glowered, crossing his arms.
Dathyr opened his mouth, but Kellis cut him off. ¡°You tied our hands, have shaken our faith, and can no longer serve as consul.¡±This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
¡°You can¡¯t be serious!¡± Dathyr scoffed. He searched for support among his peers, but Capraro and Poplu wisely remained seated, silent. There was nothing they could do. Kayis had lied or omitted facts, kept information from the assembly, and they held the capability to depose him. Meristal was sure he had done so before, in the past, but such acts never reached their ears, let alone become public knowledge. In a closed session, Kayis might be able to slither out of his demise, but aides and members of the public were present. Tomorrow morning, his calamity would be in a special publishing of New Suns Times.
Todd might like this story, she mused. Might even get him to stop hounding Judas.
¡°Yes, I am serious. You allowed your hate for your former master to consume you, bent on discrediting him. Your effort to brand him a renegade failed, and we denied you permission to hunt him as an outlaw,¡± Kellis retorted.
¡°Yet you sent guards and lackeys to search for him without authorization,¡± Sedrus divulged.
¡°The only thing you care about is power and not the people or the realm,¡± Lagelm amended. ¡°You sit here and send personal japes to Madam Raviils, who came of her own volition to report.¡±
¡°Luckily for us, she did. Otherwise, we would never appreciate the depths of your dereliction!¡± Daylynn snipped.
¡°Ha ¡ you can¡¯t be¡ªdereliction?¡± Dathyr sputtered, trying to play it off as a joke.
¡°I am afraid so. You¡¯ve brought great dishonor to your position, and the House of Dathyr,¡± Kellis intoned. He looked down the row at the ensemble. ¡°All those for Consul Kayis Dathyr¡¯s deposition, speak now.¡±
¡°Aye.¡±
¡°Aye.¡±
¡°Aye.¡±
Sedrus, Kellis, and Lagelm turned to Daylynn, expectant. Meristal watched her dither under the pressure of the tally and the scrutiny of their gaze. Three others remained, and the vote was tied. Piero Capraro and Vamor Poplu would never go against Kayis, staunch supporters in political and House alignments.
The deciding factor came down to Daylynn Reese and her penchant for ambiguity. Daylynn caught Kayis¡¯ gaze, eyes filled with questions asked in silence. Neither the plea or implied threat in his eyes could keep her from bowing to the council¡¯s wishes.
¡°Aye,¡± she concurred. The other two kept silent. With a four-two majority, and the deposed not allowed to vote, the decision became formal.
¡°It is the council¡¯s decision, Kayis Dathyr, you will step down immediately,¡± Lagelm declared.
The time-honored procedure between the relieving of a consul, whether voluntary or involuntary, was for the consul to bow to the body, showing respect of the office, position, and responsibilities it held. The committee would return the bow, acknowledging the respect of that person and the job they had done for the people. Dathyr, prideful like his cousin, Vamor Poplu, spat on the floor before stepping off from the platform, his face livid.
¡°Who shall take the mantle?¡± Sedrus hypothesized.
¡°I suppose you want it?¡± Poplu jeered. ¡°It¡¯ll be a cold day in the Underworld before I let that happen!¡±
¡°It is cold in the Underworld, sycophant!¡± muttered Kellis.
¡°We have a problem,¡± Lagelm voiced.
¡°What?¡±
¡°There is no way for us to choose who the consul is and pull the majority to pass if we are voting ourselves. It must be a four to two, minimum, and Poplu and Capraro will veto anyone we nominate within our ranks.¡±
¡°Damn right,¡± Poplu finished.
¡°What do you suggest?¡± Daylynn muttered, hesitant.
¡°We elect in a temporary solution until elections can be held. There is a rectification if there is a cause, which there is: war,¡± Lagelm informed.
¡°I¡¯ve never heard of such an amendment!¡± Capraro choked.
Lagelm turned his attention to Meristal. ¡°Advocate? Can you shed some light on the statute I am speaking of?¡±
Meristal nodded, ¡°Yes, you are correct, there must be a precedence. With a war coming, you can select a temporary appointee under the pretense that once the war is over, elections are held.¡±
Daylynn frowned, then asked Meristal, ¡°What are the limitations of such an individual?¡±
Meristal shrugged and shook her head. ¡°The statute does not specify limitations. In every regard, the person nominated and voted in by the majority of the council will be in every sense a regular consul with the exception that once the precedence has passed, they must either step down or hold an election and be voted in. At any given time, if a challenge is issued to the current appointee, special elections must be held within the governing body, just like normal circumstances until the term has expired.¡±
¡°What is the length of term they can serve?¡± Sedrus asked.
¡°As long as necessary.¡±
¡°See?¡± Lagelm posed to his equals.
¡°Who do you suggest?¡± Kellis questioned.
¡°For now, we let Madam Raviils finish before deciding. Then, with all the facts presented, we can better decide.¡±
¡°Excellent suggestion, Councilman Lagelm,¡± Sedrus said. He shot Kayis a withering glance and turned his attention to Meristal. ¡°Please, continue.¡± His expression gave nothing away. Per the agreement of Judas¡¯s inner circle, outside of the circle, they were to treat each other as near-strangers, only familiar by association to their professions. Sedrus had abandoned them, and Meristal couldn¡¯t guess how he would act.
Meristal resumed her seat as did the representatives. She took a few moments to collect her thoughts and then launched back into her message. ¡°Warlock Lakayre suggested Xilor¡¯s next move will be against the Corridor, specifically Cape Gythmel. With three attacks to date, Dlad City, Wizard¡¯s Pass, and the counter attack at Shadow City, he is poised to bypass the Marcoalyn domain and invade Ralloc¡¯s domain. The trolls aligned with him, evident at Wizard¡¯s Pass, and he has a strong foot in the Ralloc domain with his vanguard of goblins in Shadow City. It is all but certain that the vampires are with him, either by choice or force.¡±
She paused briefly to catch her breath and to look at the governing body. ¡°He deduces that the domains of Marcoalyn and Stratu¡¯Geim hold no significance at this time, with their limited resources and little strategic focal points. We believe that if he controls Ralloc, the rest of the realms, and possibly all Ermaeyth, will fall without a fight.¡±
¡°Is that all you have to report at this time?¡± Kellis asked politely.
¡°One other thing. The Wcic in his care fled, left on her own accord in the night. I don¡¯t know how wise that was, nor did he say why or where she went because he is unaware. I can only pray she knows what she is doing.¡±
¡°I have faith in Warlock Lakayre¡¯s wisdom. As to the Wcic, I am less sure. Warlock Lakayre has never been wrong before, and I don¡¯t think he would start now. However,¡± Kellis took a breath, ¡°you need not worry about young Julie at this time. We cannot weigh the risk of her life against all others.¡±
¡°I concur,¡± Lagelm added. ¡°We should see if the fairies will lend aid, and if we can persuade the saricrocians to come, all the better. Those are some pretty big ¡®ifs¡¯.¡±
¡°Agreed,¡± said Daylynn Reese. ¡°We shall deploy half our standing army to march against the Corridor by way of a portal. For the other half, I think it would be wise to leave here in case the vampires or goblins make a fast attack against Ralloc.¡±
¡°Sensible,¡± said Sedrus. ¡°The only order left to fulfill is who will lead the army and who is the new appointed consul. We should also nominate a representative to the front lines to assist with communication.¡±
¡°There is something else,¡± Meristal broke in. ¡°The Heir of Valin sent a squad of the Black Tide to conduct war game scenarios before knowing about Xilor¡¯s return. Since they are already mobile, we should send them a Port Master and teleport them to Cape Gythmel.¡±
¡°The Krey are marching?¡± Sedrus asked, his voice dripped with suspicion and worry.
¡°I thought that was against the law!¡± Daylynn shrieked. ¡°What is to stop them from marching on Ralloc?¡±
¡°It isn¡¯t against the law, I checked,¡± Meristal spoke up. ¡°They have committed no crime. The War Council convened and signed off on their expedition. They are not marching to war but for training purposes. As far as I know, they are oblivious to this fact, but now that we are at war, we should use them to fortify Cape Gythmel.¡±
¡°Those are some amazing coincidences,¡± Kellis said slowly. ¡°How did they realize we were at war before we did?¡±
¡°As I said, ¡®war game scenarios¡¯ and from what I understand, you were told before they did when Staell gave one of your members a warning to deliver, right?¡± Meristal said hastily. She was on dangerous ground if the group dug too much into her story.
¡°It is,¡± Kellis said. He gave Dathyr a withering glance.
¡°Even if they did march on Ralloc, which they are not, one squad of Krey could not take the city. You have nothing to fear.¡±
Lagelm stirred. ¡°For our representative on the front lines, we should send Kayis Dathyr. Those in favor?¡± He looked around at the delegates, and everyone nodded in agreement except Capraro and Poplu. ¡°Very well,¡± he said, turning his attention to Dathyr. ¡°You are in charge of the mission and its completion until relieved of duty by one of higher authority or commanding officer of the Grand Royal Army. Should you fail to act in a proper, responsible manner, you shall be exiled, like your former mentor. Your shame will haunt your family¡¯s honor and community standing.¡±
¡°Speaking of your former mentor,¡± Meristal started, without being able to stop, ¡°I think it is only suiting that you should answer to him at the Corridor. You are in charge of the army, but you will ultimately answer to him.¡± Once realizing what she did, she quickly closed her mouth. She looked at the committee with a placid face, still in shock from her blurt.
¡°That ¡ is a great idea,¡± Lagelm said to her at length, letting the thought form into its conclusion.
¡°I concur,¡± Kellis approved. ¡°It is settled. Now then, on to the new consul. Who shall take the slackened reins from Kayis?¡±
¡°I would be honored,¡± Sedrus demurred with a bow.
¡°Yes, you would be good,¡± said Lagelm, ¡°if a war wasn¡¯t upon us, but bloodshed does not suit you. Poplu and Capraro would block your nomination because you cannot vote for yourself. We must think outside the immediate council.¡±
¡°I agree, but who? Master Jynerul Tyku?¡± Daylynn Reese suggested.
¡°No,¡± Kellis said. ¡°He would serve us best on the battlefield. Madam Meristal? Have you ever considered politics?¡±
¡°Yes, but I was considered too radical for most, and my tenure as a politician amounted to only having my name on the ballot,¡± Meristal explained. ¡°I am an Advocate of Law, not politics, and retired. Perhaps Judas?¡±
¡°Under the circumstances, I would say you are the best choice. Powerful, wise, logical, an absolute grasp of legislation, and absent an apprentice. Besides, though Judas would be our best choice, he is a warlock and cannot hold any title or office of authority,¡± Kellis answered. ¡°You have ample time as you are retired.¡±
¡°You are the next best choice,¡± Daylynn concurred. Meristal could see she struggled with the words, knowing how hard it must have been to admit. Daylynn attempted to let go of her animosity for the better of the people.
Just this once, Meristal thought sardonically.
Lagelm encouraged Meristal. ¡°You are admired by many, from noble to peasant. When word reaches the people¡¯s ears that you stood beside Judas despite the cost of public shaming, and he was right all along, imagine the outpour of support you¡¯ll receive. Truly you are the best choice, temporary or not. You served as an Advocate for many years and took additional duties, tours, taking you far from Ralloc in the service of our Republic.¡±
Kellis approved. ¡°Not to mention that you have regular communication with the archangels. Shades! Most people never see them, but you commune with them on a regular basis. You and Daylynn. I find that most¡¡±¡ªhe searched for the right words, looking from Meristal to Daylynn a few times¡ª¡°peculiar.¡±
Both women¡¯s eyes flashed to one another, and their gazes locked. Both held pain, Daylynn with anger, Meristal with a righteous hatred. A slight quiver of fear trembled behind their eyes, looking back at Lagelm.
¡°It¡¯s time for a vote,¡± Sedrus called. ¡°All for Meristal as the new consul? I agree to the appointment and place my vote with her.¡±
¡°Aye.¡±
¡°Aye.¡±
¡°Aye,¡± Daylynn said after a beat.
Poplu and Capraro only glared at Meristal and the others present.
¡°It is agreed then! Consul Meristal? What is your first act?¡±
Chapter 56: The Place of Origins
Imposing, fog-covered mountains filled Julie¡¯s vision. Eyes tracked up until the elevation became lost from sight, peaks hidden in the obscurity of white cotton swirls. The task of climbing the daunting beasts persuaded her to turn back, and the subtle mystical impulse to turn away grew stronger by the moment. Her mantra of never being weak again persisted, a vigil that spurred her on.
Who commands you? An arcane urge? You came here to do something, and you¡¯re not about to walk away now just because someone else wants you to.
But she could not deny the desire with the mountains so close.
¡°What is this place?¡±
¡°It is the Melodic Mountains,¡± Ava answered. ¡°There is an enchantment upon these lands, causing people to turn back.¡±
¡°Who causes this?¡±
The ability to compel people is a good enough reason to stay, to learn the secret.
¡°The fairies maintain the enchantment with our presence, but we did not place it,¡± Ava declared.
¡°Who else lives here besides the fairies and Fife Doole?¡± Julie shot her a sidelong glance.
¡°No one; few mortals have set foot here, including Warlock Lakayre. Oh, and Meristal! Perhaps, someday, I will share the story.¡±
¡°Meristal was here before?¡± Surprise rippled through the mage.
¡°Yes, long ago.¡±
Julie shrugged. ¡°We won¡¯t get any closer by standing here. Let¡¯s go.¡±
With Ava leading, Julie followed her up a rutted path snaking back and forth between towering cypress trees. The incline and treacherous footing compelled Julie to save her breath as her muscles ached, lungs burned, and sweat poured down her spine. Several times, Julie checked her footing, almost falling. The mountain air smelled of rain and damp decay. A thin humidity clung about them. With a slow pace and mind numbing exertion, an eternity could have passed. She was surprised and grateful when she reached a plateau, obscured by thin mist, trees, and the bottom wisps of cloud.
¡°Welcome to Fife¡¯s, mistress,¡± said Ava.
Eyes darted around, noting the empty clearing hedged by trees. A brook bubbled in the distance. A well-worn path led away, further into the dense trees.
¡°Well, where is it?¡± demanded Julie, her composure slipping. The embers of a cold fury kindled within her. Had she wasted her time to come all this way for nothing?
You fool, the voice inside her sneered.
The anger grudgingly subsided as she waited for a more logical explanation.
¡°There are many potent enchantments placed here,¡± Ava promised.
¡°Potent enchantments, huh?¡± the mage muttered. Julie¡¯s eyes locked on the little creature hovering near; a flicker stole across the other¡¯s face, a recognition that Julie was not, in fact, talking to her.
A swelling rose inside Julie, the possibility of learning the powerful mystery to what kept this place hidden for thousands of years within her grasp, tantalizingly close. An additional task, but one she would undertake. The mage noted the book remained silent, which bothered her. She expected more from the elusive cognisance.
¡°Mistress,¡± Ava broke in.
Emotions in check, Julie turned to look at her. ¡°Yes, what is it, Ava?¡±
¡°I have done my duty and brought you, as you asked, and kept you from harm to the best of my abilities. Now that my task is complete, I must return to my home. Should you need me, call my name and I will answer.¡±
¡°I understand,¡± Julie stated, being partially truthful. At this point, she was too angry to care.
It was all a waste! The only good thing to come from her entire journey happened when she met Lily. That alone made the trip worth the effort, but she expected more.
¡°Thank you for helping me, Ava. I shall call upon you again,¡± she said hurriedly. The little creature agitated her; finding nothing of worth flustered her, and the fairy¡¯s words only compounded her ire.
¡°Thank you, Mistress, most kind of you. It was an honor to serve you.¡± The fairy vanished, leaving Julie alone once again.
Finally, the little brat is gone, she sighed.
She liked Ava, but there was something about her personality that riled her nerves, most likely the child-like nature, or perhaps just her voice. Ava, best if taken in small, moderate dosages, may come in handy in the future.
Best not to chase her off.
Whispers tickled Julie¡¯s ears the moment the fairy faded, and she sought their origin. For a moment, she floundered until she recalled the familiarity. In haste, she threw her pack off her back and opened the flap, digging for the ever-silent book. Once free, the whispers became clear, the book calling her name, glowing, light escaping the closed pages.
¡°Your name, speak it. The Place of Origins opens for the Bearer of Secrets alone.¡±
¡°Julie.¡± she declared in haste, excited.
Nothing happened.
¡°Your true name is not the one you recognize, but the name your parents gave you.¡±
¡°How do you know so much? And how in the Underworld am I to realize a name I¡¯ve never heard?¡±
¡°We only impart what we must for your guidance. Speak your name, free of emotion, untainted by ambition, and what is locked will open.¡± The book went silent. The name tumbled in her head. In her hand, the book trembled, a soothing peace resonated in her. There was power here, waiting to be opened, waiting for her to claim. But the book¡¯s warning cautioned her zeal. She sealed her feelings away. It would never be hers if she didn¡¯t unlock the Place of Origins.
Closing her eyes, Julie cleared her mind and let the aura wash over her. Only the presence of the ancient aura suffused her head. Garbled fragments, flashes of voices echoed through her head.
Vague images came to her, blurred impressions. She could not distinguish the man clearly, like water had filled her eyes. His face loomed near, young.
¡°She is beautiful,¡± she heard a man¡¯s voice say. ¡°Like her mother, beauty frozen in a timeless moment.¡±
¡°What should we call her?¡± her mother¡¯s voice asked, weary and happy. ¡°Hope?¡±
¡°No, she¡¯s an angel.¡±
¡°Look at her eyes; they twinkle like stars.¡±
¡°I am fond of a name in the druid language: Starriace. It means ¡®daughter of the sky.¡¯¡±
¡°Starriace? I like that name.¡±
The image faded, and darkness smothered her. She sensed someone, a woman, familiar, but not her mother. Her eyes still blurred, but she could detect a chin and lips.
¡°Hello, little one,¡± her voice said, sounding like thousands of voices speaking in unison, obscuring her true voice. Her words were warm, affectionate, but distant. ¡°I am sorry that I am the one to take you from the life you would have, but no one will remember your beginning. It is safer this way, for you to fade from time. I have witnessed, and that is enough, but I cannot see your end. No end knows you.¡± She paused, drawing near. A press of warm lips against Julie¡¯s head, the memory so strong she felt it in the present. ¡°Welcome, Starriace, daughter of the sky.¡±
¡°Starriace?¡± she breathed, uncertain.
Her eyes opened, the air shimmering before her, revealing Fife Doole¡¯s old cottage. Unscathed, undamaged, untouched for Ages, protected by his wards. The front door and windows remained shut, no light illuminating the interior. The small, rickety chimney remained quiet, free of smoke. Brimming with hubris, Julie approached the door.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
The allure of influential knowledge laying inside hastened her step. Soon, they would be in her grasp. Her mind raced, trying to imagine what she would find, what form the enigmas would take. Texts and scrolls? An amulet? Julie could almost taste them, touch them.
Power! I will never be helpless again!
An aura resonated from within the walls of the hut. Julie knew the journey she would embark on would shape the future; hers, and perhaps others. In the presence of the old hut, Rusem and Judas¡¯s teachings diminished. Her time had come.
Opening the door, she stepped through and crept slowly around the tiny hut.
From the cluttered interior to how low the table and shelves sat, Fife Doole was indeed of small stature. Though cramped, everything was meticulously kept, a pretentiously tidy individual and a perfectionist. She found the quality attractive, ordered and structured. Though speculative, Julie surmised Fife, at the end of his life, was without a companion. The cozy and homey house lacked the touch of a woman.
With cautious care, she tested the small stool by the workbench, unsure if it would hold her weight. Papers and books covered the desk, and she methodically poured through them, hoping for discovery. A project caught her eye, and she judged it to be from his later years, the writing large, not as cramped or sharp as previous works she leafed through. Scrolls lay to the side of the desk, a neat stack with all wax seals facing the same direction. A few loitered behind the stack, unsealed.
A hesitant pause rippled through her; a dreaded sense of invasion and violation infected her. Fife was long gone, but his works and artifacts remained. A sense of wrongness at rifling through his possessions made her waver. The ludicrous moment passed, and she snatched up the first unsealed scroll. She unrolled the parchment carefully, the leaf crinkling, and the scrawled title filled the top: Time Displacement. Julie didn¡¯t understand what she read, but pieces stuck out, fragments of words like the false timeline or time reversal. Time, to her, always seemed to be a continuous entity, flowing forward. The possibility of time being false or going in reverse never crossed her mind. Thinking about such things provoked her to return to the book she received in the swamps. She placed it on the table, waiting.
¡°We have returned, and all within will be revealed to the Bearer.¡±
A flash of light shot out inside the hut, strong enough to make the walls tremble. She blinked her eyes, chasing the spots away. When she could see again, the halfling stood before her. He was not a ghost, but not quite a solid state, almost transparent before solidifying.
Once he did, Julie crashed to the floor, her back slamming against the ground, driving the air from her lungs. Her body burned like liquid fire simmering beneath her skin. The pain in her head was so strong she thought her skull cleaved in two. Magelust scalded her insides. Her heart labored under the sway, the pleasure so intense it registered as pain. Breath came sharp, sporadic, painful, like a hot knife sliding in between her ribs with each inhale. Pores opened up, sweat drenching her body like she submerged in a hot bath without discarding her articles. A fierce itch tickled her skin, and she tried to claw the feeling away.
The lust drowned her, rebuffing against her like squalls in a storm. She wanted free of the restrictive cocoon. Her hands flung to her robes, ripping them open, exposing her breasts, trying to shake out as quickly as possible.
Fife held out his hand, his fingers splayed. ¡°Stop!¡± the tiny creature commanded. A wave of energy slammed into Julie, stopping the lust. Her head hung in embarrassment; catching herself exposed, she hastily closed her robes.
¡°What is happening to me?¡± she cried, tears of pain and humility streaking down her face. The pleasure had stopped, the agony fading, but the memory, as real and vivid as Mr. Pleasure, lingered.
¡°That is the magelust; has no one told you how to control it?¡± Julie didn¡¯t trust herself to speak, so she shook her head. ¡°Each being is different; I shall adjust my dampening shield to compensate for your inabilities, yes? In time, you will learn to control your own; it is not something that can be taught, but learned from within, you understand?¡± Julie nodded, drying her eyes.
¡°Introductions are in order, is that not so, Starriace?¡± squeaked the elder. He bowed his head at the neck. ¡°I am Fife Doole.¡± The halfling was bald on top with shaggy silver hair circling the sides and back. His bushy mustache grew out the sides of his face and merged with his shaggy beard of the same color, the latter growing past his waistband. Fierce, dark green eyes scrutinized her.
Holding her robes closed, tucking them behind her sash, she found her voice. ¡°What are you?¡±
¡°I am a halfling, can you not tell? I was a Grand Maghai of the Stratu¡¯Geim domain, and I am the last survivor of the Great Wizards Council. I lived and taught many prominent wizards throughout time, including your father. And surely Judas spoke of me, is that not so?¡±
¡°You knew my father?¡± a breathless Julie insisted. Now, that Fife mentioned it, she remembered Judas speaking of halfling.
¡°Oh yes, Starriace.¡± He had caught himself before he said more than he wished and bowed, his shaggy beard touching the floor.
¡°What is that supposed to mean? Your body language?¡± she inquired, a little more harshly than she intended.
¡°Starriace, everything depends greatly on how you approach them, do you understand? Take Simon Poplu, for instance¡ªthe second-to-last student I taught¡ªconsiderable promise with a perceptive mind, but pride forever haunted his bloodline. A curse comes with too much, is that not so?¡± Julie shrugged. ¡°Some would say I am a bastard for not telling him his problem but a fault of mine? I think not! I helped him by not telling him. No doubt the lesson is learned by now, one taught only by failing. If I had told him of his arrogance, he would detest and resist my assistance, wouldn¡¯t he? So, just to spite me, he would make sure he never failed and thus never learning his lesson. So, I hope he fell on his ass, don¡¯t you agree?¡±
¡°Please don¡¯t call me by that name. And what does Simon Poplu have to do with me?¡±
¡°I am helping you by not telling you, haven¡¯t you been listening? What good are you to me if you can not heed my words?¡±
Resentment flared, but she bit down on any retort. She played back the last few moments. Fife spoke oddly, alien enough to recognize the Myshku language may not be his primary language, or even second or third. There was no way to tell without asking, and doing so might give offense. Instead, she changed the subject, recalling his short tale. ¡°And what curse do you speak of?¡±
¡°His bloodline is rife with pride. I once warned him when he first came to me. Unchecked pride would be his downfall. To my dismay, I must say, every male of his line has died young.¡±
Julie nodded, unsure how to respond at this point. What could she say to that?
¡°They say,¡± he began again before the silence stretched between them, ¡°the greatest wizards die young, but the wisest live longest. So what is better, to be great or to be wise?¡± He let the question hang as if waiting for an answer. When none came, he continued. ¡°Well, Starriace, I have waited long for you to come to me and begin your training. I must say, you are much older than I thought you would be. But we have now met, have we not? And you are a lot less educated than I hoped. But you are here, and that¡¯s all that matters now, yes?¡±
¡°Well, before we get started and jump to any quick conclusions and decisions, my name is Julie, not Starriace, so stop calling me by that name.¡±
¡°Child, do you know who gave you the name?¡± He waited for her to answer but she merely just shook her head. ¡°Your mother named you after your father¡¯s wishes.¡±
Julie tried hard to keep tears from her eyes. She did not know where they were coming from; all that mattered was keeping them from forming in front of the little, old halfling.
¡°Where are my parents? Are they dead?¡±
¡°No, Starriace, they are very much alive. Though many speculated your demise, your body was never produced. Your place among the inhabitants of the Other Side was kept secret for your protection.¡±
An unbidden thought came to her, and she gave it voice. ¡°You speak of secrets, and it might be foolish to ask, but I must: is Judas¡¯ss daughter alive?¡±
Why do you care anymore?
¡°Who told you about her?¡± the tiny man asked.
¡°The book.¡± It seemed an Age ago that Judas had given it to her.
¡°Really? Interesting¡and cruel.¡±
¡°Well?¡± she badgered, an edge in her voice. ¡°Is she?¡±
¡°She is ¡ dead, in a manner of speaking.¡±
¡°In a manner of speaking ¡?¡±
¡°Worry not, but yes, she is. However, it is possible to awaken her,¡± he said. His gaze dropped to his beard again, and he rolled the hair between his fingers. ¡°Yes, it is possible to bring her back.¡±
¡°How?¡±
¡°Best not to think too far ahead, young one, you will hurt yourself. It is deep magic you are exploring, foolish for a neophyte.¡±
¡°But I thought people who are dead can¡¯t come back to life?¡±
To this, Fife Doole said nothing. The motors in her brain reeled from words spoken and left unsaid.
Raising the dead is possible?
Hope flared in her chest. She could do this for Judas¡¯ss daughter, as well as for Meristal¡¯s child. But then another realization came to her. She wished Judas¡¯s daughter still lived, that she was his daughter, but Fife¡¯s revelation dashed those wayward dreams. With the truth out, he quashed her aspiration. An ache anguished in her heart, but the cold voice reminded her of the atrocities she endured and the man who let it happen. The emotions came back to haunt her, the binding the book placed on her released.
He¡¯s not a bad man, just incautious.
¡°Put away your emotions,¡± Fife instructed briskly. ¡°They will do you no good for what is to come. You are here to train, not cry, is that not so?¡±
¡°I want to learn more about my parents. I want to see them.¡±
¡°No,¡± Fife said sternly. His face formed an unpleasant frown for a moment and then softened, as did his voice. ¡°You will see them soon enough, child, when the time is right. But more important things take precedence over a reunion with your parents, or have you forgotten the carnage you saw in your Shadowcasting?¡±
¡°How did you¡ª?¡±
¡°I know many things, or did you think you and Harold were the only Shadowcasters?¡± He chuckled to himself. ¡°Would you like to visit your parents?¡± Fife asked her. She nodded. ¡°Then study, train in earnest, because the dead have no eyes for the living, yes?¡±
Crestfallen and slightly perturbed, she watched Fife Doole waddle around the table and help himself to a stool opposite Julie. He took her hands in his and looked into her eyes. ¡°Clear your mind of everything, Starriace. The only thing that matters now is your acceptance of who you are, what you are, and what you are here to do. Above all, your training is most important. I will train you in basic skills and arts, but you must choose your path based on what aptitudes you wish to hone and become one with. It¡¯s the power of the mind. Not many understand. Most place faith in their incantations. Fools they are, is that not so? Too easy to use and easily defended, yes? I will teach you the hard way, but you will never perceive how hard it is because you have nothing to compare it to.
¡°Judas started you on the path to unlocking your mind; I shall finish it. But opening your soul? Only you can do that. Tomorrow we start.¡±
Chapter 57: Julie and Fife
Fife showed Julie to her bed and bade her goodnight. The gnomling assured her there would be time for questions later, and that she needed rest. Dawn came early, and Fife woke Julie with a sharp crack of his staff on her bed, bolting her into an upright position, her head slamming into the low ceiling above. Fife chuckled heartily.
¡°I do that to every apprentice on the first day, and it is still funny,¡± he smiled. ¡°You would like breakfast?¡±
Julie rubbed her head in agitation, a headache blossoming behind her eyes. ¡°Yes,¡± she grunted.
¡°Then you should rise earlier, should you not?¡± Fife declared. ¡°It is much too late for breakfast, and now you are much too late in starting your lessons. Do you think this is an inn where I clean up after you and you rise and sleep as you wish?¡±
¡°No, I don¡¯t think that,¡± she said, already irritated with him. The discomfort didn¡¯t help either. ¡°You never said when I had to get up.¡±
¡°Then, you should have asked, should you not? You will rise before the sun each day, do you understand?¡± He pulled on his beard, his green gaze piercing her, measuring her.
¡°I understand,¡± she growled, throwing off the sheets.
¡°Master,¡± he supplied.
¡°What?¡±
Fife rapt her lightly on the head with his rod. ¡°Master! You will address me as master or Grand Maghai, is that so hard?¡±
¡°Would you stop doing that?¡± she blurted, her ire rising.
He rapt her again. ¡°Master.¡±
¡°Ow, fuck, do you know how much that hurts?¡±
He hit her again, this time, harder. ¡°Master. You will address me as master or Grand Maghai,¡± he reiterated.
¡°Shades of the Underworld, would you stop that ¡ master?¡±
He smiled somewhat. ¡°Better. It is a start, though slow, don¡¯t you agree?¡±
Not trusting herself to speak, Julie only nodded. Her mind quickly darted to Rusem¡¯s ring. She had but to put it on, and she could leave.
¡°Get dressed, Starriace, and meet me outside.¡± When she didn¡¯t respond promptly, he raised his staff in warning.
¡°Yes, master.¡±
The ring is sounding better by the second, the saturnine thought came.
Her mood did not improve when she stubbed her toe on a chest in her room and sprained her wrist as her fist smashed into the low ceiling while slipping her arm into the robes. Twice she smacked her head on the low ceiling as she headed to the door, darkening her surly temperament. By the time she exited the small hut, she cursed like a storm, and her presence boiled like a cyclone. The blinding, early morning light of the suns did little to improve her disposition. Fife had his back to her as she entered the clearing to the side of his hut.
Strike him down, the voice urged. You¡¯ll feel better. While sorely tempted, she knew she wouldn¡¯t live for much longer.
¡°I can see giving up power is difficult for you,¡± Fife stated as Julie closed the distance. ¡°Do you not like feeling helpless, Starriace?¡±
¡°My name is Julie,¡± she retorted. An invisible wave hit her in the head, right where her headache blossomed. Biting back her curses and retaliation with conjury of her own, she amended, ¡°My name is Julie, master.¡±
He nodded at her and paced casually, his short legs making his movements minute. Now that Julie stood fully erect¡ªwhich wasn¡¯t tall¡ªshe noticed Fife only came up to the top of her thigh. ¡°Your name is Starriace, and I shall only call you so. Should I not call you by your true name?¡±
With Fife speaking Myshku as a foreign language, and the ache erupting in her head, she didn¡¯t bother arguing with him.
Call me whatever you want, little man. My name is Julie, and you can¡¯t change that!
Instead, she said, ¡°You are my master, and you may call me what you wish.¡±
Fife¡¯s eyes flickered for a moment, doubting her honesty. ¡°Shall we begin?¡±
He sat with legs crossed and waited. When the student didn¡¯t mirror him, he commanded, ¡°Sit.¡± Julie complied without responding.
I don¡¯t have to call you master when I don¡¯t respond.
¡°You are going to have a difficult time if you lack mastery of humility, Starriace. This simple act of submission and obedience inherently creates a sense of discipline and respect.¡± He closed his eyes and Julie warily followed suit. ¡°I wake all my apprentices the same way, causing them to knock their heads and get headaches to teach them their first lesson; but you are a slow learner, so you will receive several lessons today, is that not so? Rumigul is about the power of the mind, and yours is hurting, is it not? Before you turn your magic outward, you must first turn it inward. Clear your mind except my voice and your pain. Sense where it ends, how far it stretches, where your brain ends and your skull begins. Follow the pulse, the throb, can you do that, Starriace?¡±
Julie followed Fife¡¯s instruction while ignoring the name he called her, tracing the edges of her misery. She suffered the throbbing of her skull, reaching all the way to her eyes. The ache was reminiscent of staying awake for an entire day and only allowed a two-hour nap as a reprieve. At last, she traced the entire area of her headache. ¡°Yes, I can.¡±
¡°Now visualize it.¡±
¡°How, master?¡±
¡°As anything you wish. You possess an imagination, do you not?¡±
Julie repressed a sigh and imagine her pain as a ball of bright, white light, which hurt her eyes. ¡°I have done so.¡±
¡°What do you envision?¡±
¡°A ball of white light.¡±
¡°Ah, white light, very good. Most people think of it as a light, but white is good, isn¡¯t it? Blinding and painful to stare at, just like the suns. Darken it.¡±
¡°How?¡±
¡°Imagine your light like that of the sky, darkening as the sun sets. Darken it and your torment will recede.¡±
So Julie darkened the white light, changing from blinding white to a darker shade of gray. Immediately, she distinguished a reduction of discomfort to a more tolerable level, but still it lingered.
¡°Now that you darkened the light, picture a cloud of steam from boiling water. As it rises from the water, it disappears. Separate your malady, fantasize steam.¡±
She did as instructed, imagining the now gray light as mist, watching it dissipate the further it went from the source. Again, the ache yielded. The smog dissipated within the bubble where the light had been, only a slight twinge remained.
¡°Now make your bubble small.¡± Fife instructed.
Julie shrank the bubble, collapsing it until the last of her headache was gone.
¡°Is it that simple?¡± she exclaimed. The invisible force rapped her on the head. ¡°Ow¡ªis it that simple, master?¡±
¡°For headaches, yes. I foresee you having a great deal more while you are here, Starriace.¡±
Julie¡¯s lips twisted slightly, but otherwise remained silent.
¡°Defend yourself!¡± Fife roared, surprisingly loud for such a small being. He leaped to his feet, twirling his staff as it caught aflame, slamming the end into the ground. A wall of flame raced towards Julie. She let out a yelp as the fire closed, and dove to the side. The fire went past as she rolled up to her feet, fumbling for her wand. Once free, her limited repertoire of spells flew across the distance. Fife batted them away with the flick of his hand. ¡°Do better, child!¡±
An invisible fist hit Julie in the chest, lifting her up off her feet. She landed hard on her tailbone and rolled up backward. Her hair splayed in a mess as she hurriedly brushed it out of her eyes. A ball of ice formed in the gnomling¡¯s hand and he launched it at her. The icy sphere smashed her in the chest, driving the wind from her lungs. In a terrifying moment, she felt more than heard the detectable crack, her ribs breaking from the impact. A deep cold raced down her body.
¡°You are half trained and poorly educated, Starriace,¡± he intoned as she sucked in a desperate breath. Flame rose from his palm like a flickering inferno, launching pebble-sized balls of fire. Still gasping, Julie ran sideways, trying to outrun the searing volley. She dove behind a willow to catch her breath.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.
¡°Do you think a tree will stop an attack?¡± he chided her. A loud crack resonated at Julie¡¯s back; splinters furrowed along her spine, her scalp blazed with fire from shrapnel. The wood groaned. A quick check told her that Fife blasted the tree with energy, shattering the trunk. Another groan and it started to topple, falling towards her. She dove, the tree missing her by mere inches. A sharp ache punctured her ribs as she rolled up to her feet.
Fife, over ten meters away, swept his stick in front of him, mimicking the effects of sweeping her legs out underneath her, and Julie toppled backward, her head bouncing off the ground. Head pounding, she rolled over, facing Fife. With a sneer, she muttered a curse, hoping to catch him off guard. Again, Fife motioned with his hand. Instead of batting it away, he sent it back at her, the curse rebounding off Julie¡¯s chest. Red fell over her gaze, her body burning in distress. Blood seeped from her scalp, running into her eyes, courtesy of the splinters of the exploding tree.
¡°Are you so weak that you can not defend yourself, Starriace?¡± he asked sincerely. But to her ears, it sounded like mockery.
I hate you! the voice screamed.
Resentment welled up inside her, a lashing beast wanting to claw its way out of her throat. She struggled to her feet, dodging an additional wave of energy, more from stumbling luck than skill. Rage rose as blood trickled from her nose. Without conscious thought or incantation, she lashed out. The spell erupted from her wand, intent on annihilating the Grand Maghai. The ground ripped, churned in the invisible wake. Fife waved his hands down into the ground, the energy subsiding, killing her attack.
¡°Better. But you are relying on your hate, are you not?¡± He motioned with his hand, and Julie felt a sudden jolt shoot up her left arm, a small rock the size of her fist struck the ground at her feet. ¡°Hate is a good motivator, Starriace, but fear is even greater. You do not properly understand your abilities. You do not fear.¡±
His hand moved again, but this time, in an upward motion, lifting Julie into the air. The wand slipped from her fingers, her feet two meters from the ground. Hands struggled for her neck; the air constricted as he held her. ¡°You should be very afraid, Starriace. Fear begets respect.¡±
Whether from a lack of air or the sound of Fife¡¯s voice, panic shot through her. The pulse of her heart thundered in her ears, her lungs raw and scorched. Still, he held her as she felt veins spiderweb across her forehead and along her face.
He intends to kill me, she realized. Undeniable terror reached her eyes.
Fife stirred. ¡°There¡¯s the fear.¡± With an overhand motion of his rod, Julie plummeted to the ground.
Julie gasped for breath and sat up in a rush, her legs still crossed. Hands flew to her face and came away clean, no trace of blood. Even her hair, which should be unkempt from the fight, remained neat and tidy. Though no physical injuries manifested, the soreness throbbed, real. Across from her, Fife opened his eyes and stood, using his staff for support.
¡°We didn¡¯t fight?¡± Julie gasped. A quick rap across her skull reminded her of protocol.
¡°No, we did not, Starriace. Would you have preferred that? Destroying my yard in a scuffle is not the best method to teach you, yes?¡±
¡°I hurt all over.¡±
¡°Another lesson, yes? Learn how to ease your pain.¡± He waddled back to his hut when he stopped and turned to her. ¡°You did well when you quit muttering incantations like a fool. Rumigul mages use the mind, not the mouth.¡± Julie winced as she repositioned. ¡°Tend to your wounds,¡± he said, leaving her to apply earlier lessons, easing the spasms throughout her body.
The next morning, Fife Doole stood outside his house, his stick twirling lazily in his hands, waiting for her arrival. She emerged from the hut at a slow pace, exhaustion oozing from her. All night she healed the ¡®wounds¡¯ inflicted by their battle of minds, forgoing sleep. She had yet to eat, dressing slowly with her sore muscles screaming in protest.
Fife didn¡¯t speak when she stopped in front of him. She shifted her weight, hiding her discomfort and her indifference in an eye roll. Julie hadn¡¯t taken an immediate liking to Fife. His unorthodox methods, relentless demand for deference, and Myshku not being his primary language, annoyed her to no end. The words he spoke were curt, brash, but his tone denied such prejudice. In the sole day she spent with him, he taught her many things in one exercise, primarily awe and dread. Fleetingly, while Fife held Julie by the throat, she thought he meant to kill her.
He could have, with ease, too.
That was the most intimidating part. When Julie accompanied Judas, she had known he was powerful, yet he never displayed or flaunted his brilliance. In fact, he went out of his way not to do magic. The Grand Maghai, bred from different stock, defeated her with an ease that belied his skill.
No, he didn¡¯t defeat me. He kicked my ass!
His skill and prowess, realized in a blatant display, pulled the wool from her eyes. She thought the fight real instead of in her head. Another epiphany arose from her devastating defeat: the awareness of being on the losing end, a place she never wanted to be again. Her pride was just as bruised as her body. Despite her helplessness against Mr. Pleasure, he merely dominated her; Fife confronted her with her wand at the ready, alert and observant, which made her defeat all the more terrifying. She noted the difference between the two: being helpless and attempting, or just finding yourself helpless.
With reflection, she reconciled the difference in lessons, magical versus without. In a minor aspect, she learned to heal. Removing aches, swelling of muscle, and bruised bones took time and energy. He had shown her the door, as Judas always said, but Julie twisted the knob, and Fife kicked her through. She struggled with the lesson, but the benefit outweighed her efforts.
Perhaps there is something to these teachings, she grudgingly admitted.
Fife raised an eyebrow.
She needed to attain mastery under him, but she didn¡¯t have to like him. Rusem¡¯s ring crept back into her mind. I could just leave¡ ¡°Good morning, master.¡±
¡°A morning of goodness to you as well.¡± He pulled on his shaggy beard. ¡°Today, we memorize a new lesson: respect. What do you think that means, Starriace?¡±
I have so many answers for you, little man.
Julie remained silent until she found a satisfactory answer. ¡°Submission to an elder, letting the elder have the right of way or letting them speak and not interrupting.¡±
¡°Wrong!¡± Fife Doole said in a stern voice. ¡°¡ and correct. But I am not talking about reverence for people but of things.¡±
¡°Calling people by their correct names, master?¡± she replied pointedly.
¡°No, name is the wrong type of thing. Trying again with less attitude is better, don¡¯t you agree?¡±
Julie took a deep breath, pondering what the gnomling wished to hear. His instructional method differed from all she experienced thus far, a practical application compared to Judas¡¯s by-the-tome-while-on-the-run approach, and Rusem¡¯s freely given knowledge. The latter appealed to her more than she cared to admit, but she had scruples about effortless attainment. The warlock¡¯s method would be better suited for a classroom environment. Still, she took an immediate disliking to Fife.
If I don¡¯t ever try to learn to submit, I will never get anything out of his training.
Thinking back over her journey, a brief flash of the innkeeper in Far Point came into mind. ¡°I would say someone¡¯s religion. You never know if theirs is the correct one or not. Also, showing disrespect to the religion can create a great deal of enemies.¡±
¡°True. Though not having consideration for a religion can¡¯t kill you, unless, of course, you offend the zealots,¡± he said, adjusting the rod in his hand. ¡°I am talking about respect for magic, Starriace. Was it so difficult? It will kill you faster than all else, either by someone using against you, or your improper use. Always appreciate what you can do with it and what it can do to you, yes? It is best not to forget that you do not control it, agreed? Magic allows you to use, direct, and channel, but never dominate. Absolute dominion is not impossible, but not plausible. Not unless ¡ ¡± he trailed off and looked at her. ¡°You would dedicate more years than you have to obtain that level. Now, child, how powerful does your essence allow you to be?¡±
¡°Are you saying I will never gain control, Grand Maghai? Then why waste my time?¡±
¡°I did not say you won¡¯t possess an element of control, right? I said ¡®that kind of control,¡¯ do you not remember? Clean out your ears, Starriace!¡± She listened as Fife repeated his first question again. ¡°How powerful does your essence allow you to be?¡±
¡°As powerful as it lets you, I suppose, master.¡±
¡°No, no. Not what you can tap into because anyone can tap into the bottomless well, right? It¡¯s the abilities already in you. What you are born with.¡±
¡°I do not know, master,¡± she said, suddenly intrigued the gnomling might show her a secret about endless potential at her disposal.
¡°Before you can tap into the well, you must find out where your limits are and learn to expand beyond. You feel your essence but you do not hold sway. It requires a constant struggle, do you understand? There is no quick, easy way, but every day you must stretch beyond, for the rest of your life.¡±
¡°How, master? How would I expand what I am?¡±
¡°First, you must recognize how much you truly are.¡±
Fife touched her hand, showing Julie her essence, the one born to her. The process was slow at first with meanings lost in translation, but eventually Julie figured out what the Grand Maghai tried to accomplish. Essentially, everyone is born with an inherent ability, just like everyone is born with a soul. The best way to describe the essence was to imagine it as a soul. Unseen, but acknowledged, within their bodies. Julie¡¯s task was to find hers.
Fife once again began the period of instruction and then wandered off to fiddle with the experiments he loved to tinker with. Under the rising and falling suns, Julie spent hours sitting, sweating, searching in vain. Dusk set, and Julie failed to find her aura without guidance. Fife returned to her, lugging a large wooden bucket.
¡°The last sunset, I shall sleep now. You shall not, nor shall you have food until you complete your task. It is very important that you do not sleep, no matter what!¡± He placed a bucket down beside her filled with water. ¡°Drink as much as you like, but do not eat, understand? Keep searching for your essence.¡±
Julie, still sitting with her eyes closed, only nodded in affirmation to his words. Fife sighed and returned to his cottage, no doubt retiring for the night. His snores fractured her concentration not long after.
The last sliver of light had disappeared beyond the horizons, the sky turning dark and stars glittered against the black velvet. Julie swallowed. Her tongue swelled from lack of water and sitting outside all day in the sun. For a moment, she gave up the search, reached for the ladle, and spooned herself a cool drink. It was refreshing, and nothing tasted better at that moment. She greedily ladled a second spoon, followed swiftly by a third and fourth. By the fifth ladle, Julie felt the sensation.
She experienced something similar to this before, once with the Vampire Dust she ordered at the inn, and the second in passionate ecstasy with Lily and Kam. By the time the truth registered, Julie was too far gone.
That little gnomling bastard drugged me!
She breathed deep and the world tilted. Her hand braced her from falling. The movement made her aware of effects she didn¡¯t notice before. When her hand stirred, she saw an echo of her movement or a phantom hand, greatly exaggerated and blurry, minutely slower than her physical hand. The world tilted again, and she carefully laid down on her back, holding her hands up against the backdrop of stars. She shifted them, watching the phantom hands move in a slower blur and then reunite with her skin. For what could have been seconds or hours, Julie focused on the phantom limbs, detecting something¡
It finally flashed through her where she experienced it before: while detained by Mr. Pleasure. The moment she had opened herself up, lifting all his weapons and tools into the air, her element of manipulation absolute. In her rage, she had reached inside of her, latching on to her aura, the core of her power.
Fife was right, anger could serve its purpose, she unwillingly acknowledged. But she could recognize her aura again: the phantom limbs of her essence.
¡°Shades,¡± she whispered, a small smile caressing her lips.
Giddy with excitement, she lurched to her feet and headed for the cottage, her steps staggering, halting.
¡°Hey, you stubby bastard,¡± she cried languidly to Fife. ¡°I can see¡ª¡± she tripped and fell. The world spun. She hurled, vomiting up the water and the drug in her system before passing out in her bile.
Chapter 58: Julie and Fife
Julie could not find her magical essence the next day, or the day after. Every day she languished. Without rage or strong emotions to help call it forth, her affinity diminished.
The cycles of day and night blurred by as her stomach and body screamed for sustenance. Today, only a single sun rose, and the day whittled away until the lonely sunset. The three celestial bodies loomed bright and full in the darkened sky; when all three full moons aligned every three months, citizens of Ermaeyth marked the passing of another season. Tonight, Auqyn, Nykron, and Faellon, formed a lopsided triangle.
Fife presented the bucket, which she drank from greedily; the phantom limbs appeared shortly after. Like the previous excursion, the laced water brought her to a stupor. She managed to hold her stomach when she passed out. The following day she woke with the sun creeping into the sky, Fife hovering over her, leaning on his staff. She wiped her mouth and sat up, not bothering to ask for breakfast or a change her clothes.
And so she sat.
That night recycled the repetitive pattern: ladle, water, phantom limbs. This night, Julie didn¡¯t drink as much even though her body protested her restraint. She traced the magical essence over her body. The difficulty lay in detecting herself, distinguishing her aura from the magic flooding the Melodic Mountains. The mountains themselves, Fife, his hut, the books with runes in his cottage, she felt each distinct essence, but not her own, and not without Fife¡¯s special water.
Julie reached an epiphany on the third night, correlating the distinct quality of other magical objects or people to subtle flavors, then adding a ¡®flavor¡¯ to her essence. From that moment on, she could detect her essence like a second skin, real, present though most of the time she couldn¡¯t discern it. It was natural, like breathing.
After many days of starving and becoming delirious from dehydration, Fife allowed her two days of rest. On the third day, she woke early enough for breakfast, shocking her almost as much as the Grand Maghai. After they had eaten a hearty breakfast of fruits, eggs, bacon, a grain-based porridge, and chilled goat¡¯s milk to wash it down, Julie found herself scrubbing pots and plates in the kitchen while Fife tinkered with his latest invention. Julie shot the gnomling scathing looks, though couldn¡¯t help but smile as he worked.
Sure, he could teach me and anyone else to use magic, but his passion for inventing seems more important than my training.
Fife¡¯s lessons were grueling and hard for Julie to master, but she learned quickly. Much to her chagrin, she begrudgingly admitted the little creature knew what he was doing. His lessons were like his first, many bundled into one. Each lesson manifested in steps, each tethered to another through a series, until she learned them all. Judas never delved this deep into teaching, relying more on a let-me-show-you-this and try-to-remember-that mentality. That would have worked, but she lacked any ground work or understanding. Fife understood she knew almost nothing and approached her that way. Julie took into consideration that Judas had not taught anyone in a long time, and found herself currently inefficient. She fostered leniency for Judas in that regard, the warlock unaware she belonged to the annals of Rumigul, whereas Fife knew what she was.
Not exactly¡ she amended.
By punctual routine, Julie found herself outside, sitting in a crossed leg fashion for Fife¡¯s theoretical period of instruction. Later would come the practical application, and it would be grueling, regardless how it manifested.
¡°What keeps you alive, young Starriace?¡± he inquired. The Grand Maghai planted the end of his rod in the ground.
¡°Magic, master,¡± she blurted. Fife smacked her on the head with his staff.
¡°That was for guessing. Try again, and this time, think before you speak, Starriace.¡±
My name is not Starriace!
Julie quietly contemplated. She had forgotten the initial reason for contemplation. Her face pinched up, concentrating. ¡°Your heart,¡± she guessed again.
¡°True,¡± Fife grinned, then frowned, ¡°and false. For your heart to beat, what must you have?¡±
¡°Blood?¡±
¡°What is in the blood, Starriace?¡±
¡°Water?¡±
¡°Homugons, Starriace!¡± Fife cursed as he threw up his arms. ¡°Do you just go through life stumbling and guessing? Do you ever sit for a moment and come up with an educated answer? The answer I am looking for, young one, is air.¡± Julie slumped at his rebuke. Each admonition, she noticed, was short, scything, and pointed; he never expounded and dwelt on her failures despite being quick to point them out. She idly wondered if Rusem would treat her the same way. Her thoughts danced back to the ring in her pack.
¡°The air you breathe is as invisible as your soul, is that not so? How do we know there is air? The same as our soul, yes? We just know. Our lungs expand and contract with breath, don¡¯t they? And the air and wind are as one, is that not so? Air may serve your purpose, just like water and fire. Fire warms you, cooks your food; water washes you, nourishes, does it not? Air keeps you alive, but it can also hide, obscure, even deflect. If I throw a rock into a strong gale, would the stone not return to me? I am sure it would, aren¡¯t you?¡±
Fife paced as he usually did when lecturing.
¡°The point I am trying to make is that air is made up of the same thing as water and fire. What if I told you water contained individual elements that can be brought together or separated? Do you think me as crazy?¡±
¡°Master, I am not sure what to think at this point,¡± Julie declared. A quick rap of his rod reminded her of her stupidity.
¡°If my lessons mean nothing to you, then why waste my time, indeed?¡± He stormed off to his cottage while Julie remained motionless, unsure of what to do. She felt terrible for blurting the truth of her experiences.
What the hell is wrong with me? she wondered.
Nothing. You told the truth. Besides, he deserved it for all those times he hit you.
Each time he hit her with his staff or cut her down, she learned patience and long-suffering. The voice was right; perhaps he did deserve it. Before she could muster an apology, Fife exited his hut carrying a small, white ceramic plate. He placed it on the ground, cupped a handful of soil, and dropped the granules on the plate.
¡°Count,¡± he instructed.
¡°How, master?¡± she gawked.
¡°That is your exercise. Use your essence: feel, search, know. With magic it matters not large or small, it only matters.¡±
Shades of the Underworld.
Fife took a step and halted, ¡°No happy-water for you either!¡±
Go fuck yourself, little man. With every waking second of the day, the gnomling agitated her. No, we surpassed agitated in the first few hours of my second day.
She was well beyond that now. Demanding, insensitive, boorish, impatient, and he lacked a sense of humor, setting her nerves alight.
His improper usage of Myshku is driving me madder than Mr. Pleasure could have ever hoped. She sighed and rolled her eyes. Eventually, she would learn what she needed, and then she would leave, discard him.
Not soon enough, she thought glumly.
Apor, the largest of the two suns, bathed the mountain with its pale cerulean hue and all but drowned out the pale, brilliant amaranth of Praema, the smaller sun. With the seasons rotating from autumn to winter, the world tilted in its relative positions, creating magnificent cascades of colors with each dawn and dusk. The typical blues, purples, and reds prevailed throughout the year, but in the colder months, vivid oranges, greens, and yellows came into focus. Other breathtaking colors emerged during these months: lime, cyan, emerald, aquamarine, with golds, ambers, magenta, and the ever-rare silver streak, hence their saying, the silver lining. Apor rumbled through the sky as Praema dithered, a distant thought as Julie focused on her task.
Counting the particles of sand turned out harder than Julie first imagined. His pinch held thousands of fine motes¡ªsome so small that counting seemed impossible. She stretched out with her essence, easier with Fife¡¯s tutelage and constant use, and enveloped the plate with her essence. With slow, methodical care, she sifted through each granule. Three times she lost tally when an unexpected gust of wind scattered the piles.The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
The setback helped her understand Fife¡¯s original assignment and his allocution on air. She fortified the air around the ceramic; in her mind¡¯s eye, she created a thicker bubble of air around the platter so the thin wind couldn¡¯t move her mounds of fine dirt.
Apor and Praema retreated and the three moons, Auqyn, Nykron, and Faellon, ascended again but not in alignment. Faellon, the first celestial body, retired for the night. Auqyn came next, followed closely by Nykron.
Praema climbed the next morning, its brilliant amaranth casting a soft, eerie fire over the land, lighting a blinding torch in the sky. A Praema-only sunrise was infrequent, and Apor lumbered not far behind. The rarest of all celestial movements occurred with Praema rising as sole occupant, where Apor slumbered beyond the horizon, a happening that occurred perhaps twice in an Age. Apor¡¯s solo rising happened quite often, by comparison, a couple of dozen times each year.
But Julie took no notice of Praema¡¯s and Apor¡¯s sunrise. She did not take time to observe its brightening. Still she counted, flicking tiny, infinitely-fine grains across from one side to the other. Her thirst, a distant tickling of her throat, her faint hunger an obscure pang. The multiple days she spent without nourishment made the overnight undertaking effortless. She submerged herself, delving into acute and profound depths, the discomforts of her body diminished. Granted, she did not move mountains or destroy cities, but she worked at a finite level, nearly molecular. When drawn that deep to the origins of creation, one cannot help but withdraw. Comparatively speaking, the dirt she counted was so fine that multiple particles could fit within a single grain of coarse, desert grit.
Praema set first, by a minute margin, ahead of the larger sun, Apor, but the latter moved faster and was further away. Many times Praema soared first, but the other would catch it. A beautiful sunset of cobalt, indigo, mulberry, and orchid graced the twilight as Faellon ascended with its pale heliotrope pigment. The air cooled as Auqyn took its turn in the sky with its luminescent, pearl sheen. Faellon retreated as Nykron lurched to the sky, casting its own pale harlequin tint into the foray. Sweat beaded Julie¡¯s brow as she continued with her computation.
The following morning, Praema and Apor rose simultaneously, and Apor reached its apex before Julie completed her task. Fife stood beside her as she sat back and breathed deeply. Her lower back ached, spasms shooting up her cramping back. Hastily, she recalled Fife¡¯s first lesson and soothed the pain away. Able to move without grimacing, she handed him the plate.
¡°There are six hundred and seventy-three thou¡ª,¡± she stopped as Fife dumped the soil on the ground. ¡°What the fuck!¡± she shrieked, leaping to her feet. ¡°What in the Underworld is your problem?¡±
¡°The assignment was not if you would complete it, but if you could count at all,¡± Fife answered. ¡°It matters not if there are ninety thousand grains or nine million, you have proven my point by your tally, yes?¡± He planted the end of his stick in the ground and leaned forward. ¡°Now, using the analogy of sand, the grains of the air will be much more finite. Think of air as dirt you are unable to see, it is still dirt, and it is still there, is it not? Now we must realize the grains of air,¡± he confirmed. ¡°But that can wait till the morrow, you have earned a time of rest, have you not?¡± He smiled at her and held his hand out towards the cottage.
¡°You are the biggest asshole I have ever met,¡± she tersely groaned before she stormed off.
For more than a dozen sunsets Julie struggled to summate the motes of air, or as Fife liked to put it, the invisible dirt. By the second day, when she could get no closer to finding them, Fife had her begin to search her skin and find the pores in her arm where sweat gleamed. At one point, he scraped her skin roughly with the blade of a knife and had her search the dead skin cells on the end of the knife. Once she had a better understanding of her skin and pores, Fife lectured from inside the house for a change, using a slab of slate and a small white calcite stone for writing. He began with pictures and diagrams on the board, drawing circles and dots, orbits, and clarifying which were charged and which were not. By the time Fife finished his introduction, Julie swore she¡¯d be cross-eyed for life; her head threatened to rend in half.
¡°I just don¡¯t get it,¡± she said, for what felt like the tenth time.
¡°What is not to get? I showed you, yes?¡± Fife turned to his drawing again. ¡°This barrier, this outer limit is the end of the home. This center part, this core, think of it as a fireplace, yes? Now, these circling motes, think of them as old people or babies. They need to keep warm, do they not? So they move around the fireplace very close. The other motes are unlike old people or babies, they don¡¯t need to keep warm as much, so they stay further away from the fire, do you understand?¡±
¡°Look!¡± Julie rubbed her eyes. ¡°I get what you¡¯re saying, your analogies at least, but what does this have to do with anything?¡±
¡°Us, Starriace, us,¡± His eyes twinkled. ¡°We are made up of these small granules.¡±
¡°So, we¡¯re made up of sand?¡±
¡°True,¡± he considered, ¡°and false. The sand and our bodies are the same and yet different, are they not? You can lick your skin, do you taste of mud? I think not! You can stomp the ground, but if you get stomped, you will bleed, would you not? But internally, farther than you can see with your eyes, things begin to look the same.¡±
¡°How do you know, master?¡± Julie scoffed.
¡°I have seen it, Starriace.¡± he tittered. Fife picked up the knife again, scraping her skin like he did before, then shuffled towards his table of tinkering trinkets. He rubbed the knife on a sheet of stainless glass and gathered materials from the tables and adjoining shelves. His invention comprised of four parts.
He placed the metal base on the table and connected a swiveling mirror to the contraption. From the shelf, he removed a cylindrical tube with glass at both ends, and pulled on it, elongating it like a spyglass. Now that she thought of it, the tube did look like a very small spyglass. Clamping the spyglass to the top of the base, he tilted it at an angle. Once clamped in position, he made fine adjustments. Between the tube and the base was a platform, in which he slid the glass with her skin cells between two thin metal clasps. Lastly, he attached a small ball of wire which jutted out at a forty-five-degree angle. With a rub of his fingers, a ball of yellow-white light erupted inside the wire mesh, the metal caging the flame. Fife cleared his throat with everything in place.
¡°This is one of my inventions,¡± he stated. Julie noted the pride in his voice. ¡°This will help you understand what I am trying to teach you. The light will help us see your skin better. But it can¡¯t be seen directly. Thus the mirror, do you see? The light is reflected, and you can see your skin through here,¡± he said, pointing to the top of the small metal tube.
Soon, Julie could detect her individual skin cells and understood what Fife inferred, what he referred to as skin crumbs. She spent the next two days looking through the contraption, focusing on skin cells, hair follicles, eyelashes, mire, grass and other plant life, ash, and more. While each enjoyable experience prevailed as unique, the theory became lost with each peer through the spyglass. Fife would draw diagrams of what she saw, and by the end, she had a few dozen drawings. With his instruction, the invention, and the pictures, Fife¡¯s teachings completed a circle she would have otherwise missed.
¡°What do they each have in common, Starriace?¡±
By now, Julie understood and used Fife¡¯s terminology. ¡°Each is made up of many houses; each house has a hearth¡¡±
¡°Very good, now we must look smaller, beyond the abilities of the eye or my inventions. We must find the granules of air.¡±
Despite learning the depths of magic and biology, Julie couldn¡¯t help the growing irritation towards the Grand Maghai. He hadn¡¯t taught her anything of value as she measured it. She wanted to know how to defend herself, to fight back, to lash out at her enemies, the power to defeat Xilor. But as the days melted to weeks, she resigned to studies and futile searching.
Daily, she applied what she had learned from Fife¡¯s invention as she searched for the granules of air. Every sunset she came up empty and he would smile, encouraging her to search smaller on the morrow. And so the cycle continued. Apor rose and fell repetitiously; even Auqyn went through its full cycle of sky dominance¡ªthree weeks out of four¡ªbefore she fathomed even the slightest inclination of an air granule. With the long-awaited reward, her work truly began.
Now that she had found what she sought, Fife taught her how to manipulate it. What Julie discovered is that she already manipulated it before, almost at a subconscious level when he instructed her to count the grains of soil. She had, in her mind¡¯s eye, imagined the air around her plate as thicker than the air without. Once she established this connection, everything else took form with ease and she made leaps with her progress.
The glow of satisfaction warmed her just shy of a week after starting, eagerly returning to the grass outside his hut for her next lesson. Apor and Praema ruled the sky, the first glimpse of Nykron graced the western sky. Deep in concentration, she focused her thoughts and aura to her will, to bend and mold to what she wanted. Ten large stones, ranging from twice the size of her head to modest, floated around her head in orbit. That turned out to be the easy part.
When the student¡¯s studious efforts revealed the air granules, she set to task manipulating them to levitate small objects. The key component for success involved fortifying the air beneath the object, displacing its weight coupled with using air to move it where she willed. Thrill and exhilaration rolled off her in waves. New possibilities unlocked for her with this novel ability, but when she tried to lift a boulder near the outskirts of Fife¡¯s clearing, her hopes were quashed.
Shades! Just when I thought I was beginning to grasp his teachings, I find I haven¡¯t attained proper mastery.
But for now, she grew content with her small, floating pebbles.
Next, she focused on influencing the temperature of the stones. She noted the rise in temperature compelled the air motes to move faster. The outside of some rocks rocketed up to sizzling hot, burning bright orange to cherry red as steam streamed off the surface. The reverse held true. After completing the first portion of her exercise, she cooled the cores, plummeting them into freezing temperatures. Once completed, she opened her eyes and waited.
¡°Good,¡± Fife said, noting she had completed the assignment. Julie diminished with the lack of praise. ¡°Now I want you to change all the stones to different temperatures. No two can be the same, understand?¡±
¡°Yes, master,¡± Julie said. She rolled her eyes just before closing them, letting out a sigh of irritation. Eyes clamped shut in concentration, the rocks shifted to various temperatures. The first three pebbles changed with little effort, but with the fourth, the assignment taxed her. Frowning in concentration, her inner control remained, but the power she drew from outside her ¡¯shell¡¯¡ªas Fife put it¡ªbecame erratic.
The orbiting stones slowed, vibrating violently before shattering, dispersing in all directions. The Grand Maghai raised a hand, and his shield flared up, blocking the rocketing debris.
¡°You still need much, much more work, Starriace.¡±
Julie ground her teeth as he said the name. The name he insisted on calling her.
¡°Again,¡± he commanded.
Julie stomped off defiantly, the thought of slipping the ring on her finger persisted, tantalizing, persuasive.
Chapter 59: Julie and Fife
Julie sat hunched over the table inside Fife¡¯s humble hovel. Though generously enriched, it was more junk, trinkets, and inventions rather than decor. Concepts and contraptions cluttered his cupboards, artwork hung gracefully on the walls, and books overflowed his shelves. Cramped and cluttered, seemingly random without a commonality. A thief would not take anything, confounded by the lack of apparent value, but there was more here than what Julie¡¯s eyes distinguished.
She could feel it.
Fife hobbled over to where Julie sat and took up a chair opposite of her. ¡°Tell me, what importance is history?¡±
¡°An ambiguous question answered several ways,¡± she parried, seeing if he would reveal anything more. She hated getting anything wrong. Fife never revealed everything on the first sparring.
Fife nodded and brought his left hand up to stroke his beard thoughtfully. ¡°Take liberty to explain your answer, and I won¡¯t interrupt until you finish.¡±
¡°History to you and me would mean learning from the mistakes of the past, but for future generations, it will show where the mistakes were made in my time, as well as in your time. However, the past also tells us who prevailed as right or wrong regarding philosophy and principle, but not necessarily who was right at the moment.¡± She stopped and took a deep breath before trudging on. ¡°It is both accurate and false, depending on the observer, how the observer relates what happened in words and the observer¡¯s feelings. More than anything, history is determined by the victor. Had Xilor won the First Wizard¡¯s War, how wrong would Ralloc had been in a book written by him?¡±
¡°So, it is important, yes?¡± Fife asked her.
¡°Yes and no. Yes, so we do not make the same mistakes in the present or future. No, because someone biased may have written the book, or someone who chose to leave certain views, ideals, beliefs, or events out.¡±
Fife grew pensive, absentmindedly stroking his beard, his eyes had gone distant. He spoke after a long pause. ¡°Good answer.¡±
Hopping down from his stool, he waddled over to the bookshelf nearest to his desk. His tiny fingers rustled over the bindings of the books, much like a spider would crawl over its web. When his hand swept across the book he sought, he tucked it under his arm and returned to the table.
¡°History is fickle,¡± he declared, clearing his throat. ¡°I have found that the best way to record events is to put your very own memories to paper.¡±
¡°I don¡¯t understand,¡± Julie blurted before she could stop herself.
Fife looked at her coolly before continuing. ¡°Most people don¡¯t. In fact, none except the exceptional few of us.¡± He flipped through pages in the book and muttered to himself. Julie regarded him as he sifted before she noticed something troublesome: the pages were blank. Not a few, but all of them. Whatever Fife sought, Julie prized he¡¯d never find it. She almost pointed this out when he spoke.
¡°Ah, here we are,¡± he murmured, laying the book flat on the table between them, his eyes boring into Julie¡¯s. ¡°Would you like to see history in the making?¡±
Uncertainty clouded her mind, unsure what game Fife played.
Cautious curiosity tickled her brain, but she was wary of falling for another one of his teaching schemes. ¡°Who is it about?¡±
¡°I think you will find this particular person to be of great interest to you. You know this person, but this happened before your birth.¡±
¡°Show me.¡±
Fife reached across the table and held out his left hand. Julie reached out and grasped it. Fife then took his right palm and laid it flat on the page. To Julie, it felt like her soul was sucked out of her seat and into the book, but her body had stayed in the present, sitting in the chair, while her consciousness drew into the blank page. As she neared the page, she could see images, flashes of light and memory as she hurtled over treetops, up the steep slopes of mountains she recognized.
The Melodic Mountains.
Before she could fully grasp all the images that whirled by, she landed outside Fife Doole¡¯s hut. The door creaked open, and Fife waddled out but without the help of his staff. He worked his way to the edge, looking down at the forest below.
Julie followed his lead. In the distance, flashes of light peppered the night like lightning bugs. The flashes lasted a few moments, and then a faint scream drifted up the mountain.
Julie turned to ask Fife what was happening, but she remembered that this was a recollection of something he witnessed. The gnomling shifted on his feet and waited for a few heartbeats. The sounds of stomping, scraping brush, and clattering of falling rocks from the trail reached their ears.
Who is he waiting for? she wondered.
The footfalls pattered heavily, the person treading the path most likely a male, the steps uncertain and erratic, varying from hurried to ponderously slow. A face appeared, then the torso and legs as the figure came over the rise, climbing the trail. The person, still too far for Julie to discern, halted.
Fife Doole straightened a bit more, drawing himself up taller. The stranger halted still within the grasp of the shadows. ¡°I told you not to seek me out till you were ready,¡± Fife¡¯s voice rang out. ¡°You are still too young, but there is a profound threat hanging over you. I can sense this in your thoughts. If you are indeed who you should be, what did I tell you to remember?¡±
¡°Above all else,¡± the young voice said, ¡°people will fear what they do not understand.¡±
Julie¡¯s mind raced. She had heard that before, from someone, long ago, but the recognition evaded her.
¡°Come inside, then.¡± Fife returned to his hut while Julie waited to see the newcomer. A young Judas Lakayre stepped out of the shadows, approximately her age, maybe a little older. He looked boyish and helpless, but still carried an aura of authority about him.
Julie felt the pulling sensation as Judas passed, her mind and consciousness were being sucked back from the memory, back into her body.
¡°He started just as you did,¡± Fife intoned quietly.
¡°Not precisely. Judas had prior training before coming here; I didn¡¯t.¡± Julie was surprised by the bitterness oozing out of her voice, but not the fact that she was bitter. Every day that went by, Fife annoyed, antagonized, and irritated her, and her memories of Judas brief tutelage turned darker and virulent.
¡°Yes, but the essence is the same. You both came here, Starriace.¡±
Julie ground her teeth; the ring called, taunting her.
As the days progressed, the Grand Maghai found new ways to bruise Julie¡¯s ego. His newest method came in the form of pointing out the gaps in Julie¡¯s education.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.
¡°Massive gaps, is that not so?¡± he would say.
Though able to speak Myshku, she couldn¡¯t read very well and couldn¡¯t write at all. She knew some history of Ermaeyth but not all. Once, Fife told Julie to recite the chronicles of Na Laa Lusen and the rise and fall of Borus the Evil. The tale started easily enough, but soon, words failed her, revealing one of many gaps in her knowledge. Fife only sucked his teeth in response.
When her lack of knowledge became apparent, Fife changed his instructional periods, alternating between magical lessons and rudiments of language and grammar skills, arithmetic, and history. Teachings from books became more prominent than her mystical ones. When she made leaps and bounds with her Rumigul, her erudition, and history, suffered. With quantum leaps in mathematical skills, her Rumigul staggered. She constantly shuffled her mystic and cognitive feet in a vicious and monotonous dance.
Julie started to hate life under Fife¡¯s tutelage. Each passing day the ring seemed like a bounteous notion, but she recognized that Fife held a fount of knowledge yet revealed. Determination, not loyalty, kept her there, and the accessible escape via her ring was never far from her mind.
Fife worked her from first light to the last sliver of sun, each day ending with her mind fogged, like clay molded too many times by an obsessive sculptor striving for perfection. When she wasn¡¯t exhausted from her studies, he mentally taxed her with Rumigul lessons, and if neither applied, physical weariness took its unique toll.
The weather turned, the days cool and the nights a brittle cold. At dusk, Julie would walk outside and lean against her favorite tree, the willow tree that splintered and almost crushed her in the mind battle with Fife. Fogged breath plumed from her mouth as she surveyed the rainbow of colors setting against the cosmos. At night, Julie awaited her favored color of turquoise, a bleeding effect from the lime green and cobalt blue, until she saw the infamous ¡®silver lining.¡¯ From then on, silver became her preferred color. She rummaged through what little possessions she had accumulated to see if she had anything in silver. She didn¡¯t.
Whenever I depart, I am going to buy me a robe of silver. It seemed like a suitable celebratory gift.
Nights and days passed in a haze, the weeks slipped into months. Every night, Julie examined all three moons as each went through their individual phases, full, waxing, waning, crescent, and new. Eventually, all three moons aligned again, marking the start of another season. From there, the days were colder, the nights haunted by the howling wind. The clime cooled, and Julie saw her first snow and her second. By the tenth time, the magical white powder lost its magnificence, and she prayed for a swift return to warmer weather. Fife assured her that winters were mild here. Though Fife¡¯s cottage resided on the mountainside, in truth, she climbed less than an eighth of the mountains¡¯ full height. She tried to imagine climbing the daunting beasts and was grateful she didn¡¯t have to.
Another intriguing part of the changing of seasons: Praema and Apor no longer rose in the same segment of the sky. The shift started in the season prior, but by now, grew apparent. Praema ran nearly perpendicular to Apor. While the blue giant sun broke the north horizon and set in the south, Praema ascended in the northwest and set in the southeast. It didn¡¯t matter where the celestial bodies progressed or what phase they were in, each day brought more knowledge and grief for Julie, though she couldn¡¯t be certain which one was more.
Fife, satisfied she had made enough progress in her studies, returned to grueling instructions on Rumigul. Her first lesson was an answer to what she sought. Why hadn¡¯t she been able to lift the boulder at the edge of the clearing?
¡°Small things rise smoothly enough, is that not so? This we know! Small objects we can displace with enough channeled power, but there is another factor that fights against your ability to lift.¡± Fife picked up a small stone and dropped it. ¡°Why did it drop, Starriace?¡±
Julie ground her teeth before answering. ¡°Gravity, master.¡±
¡°True!¡± he proclaimed. ¡°We must fight against gravity as well as displace the air beneath it, is that not so? To fight gravity is hard. To displace the air is hard. Together, the Rumigul is difficult to master, but in the end, the feat is simple. It requires less energy to do both together than apart. Do you understand?¡±
Julie nodded. ¡°Displace the air while negating the effects of gravity. Pulling weight away from the ground is difficult on an object of great mass, and lifting the same mass with displaced air is even more difficult. Channeling both of the spells require a degree of mastery I haven¡¯t attained, both abilities working in tangent to produce an effect is easier than each by themselves.¡±
¡°I see the studying of vocabulary has paid off, is that not so?¡±
Julie smiled briefly at his praise.
Both types of lessons took up much of their time, and the Grand Maghai combined Rumigul exercises with assignments of text.
¡°Incorrect!¡± Fife growled. The towel in his hand whipped out, the end cracking smartly against the back of Julie¡¯s writing hand. The giant boulder above them dipped a half foot due to Julie¡¯s instant lack of concentration. ¡°That is not the correct symbol. You say you can speak this language, but you can¡¯t even write it. How are you ever going to learn Thymulous?¡±
¡°I try, master,¡± she said, anger rising against his ridicule.
¡°Try harder,¡± he bit out. He knew he was a demanding teacher, especially to her. She had learned her powers, but she couldn¡¯t perform rudimentary skills of reading and writing that a novice half her age could perform with their eyes closed. Fife did credit her with the progress she made.
Old habits and muscle memory deteriorated, the figments of her previous life¡ªwhat she could glean¡ªand the mild curiosity faded to silent echoes. Julie didn¡¯t know if that was a good thing or something tragic. Only time would tell.
¡°Patience and concentration are the two biggest things you lack. They will be your undoing if you cannot master them. Without mastery, we waste both of our time, is that not so, Starriace?¡± Julie ground her teeth at the name. Fife spoke with a serious and firm voice as Julie sat with crossed legs. He paced around her. ¡°Your objective today, and every day until mastery, is to sense the aura in all things. Feel it, touch it, draw it into you and channel it back into them.¡±
¡°Them, master?¡±
¡°Yes, them,¡± he barked. ¡°Are you a deaf, Starriace? Must I repeat everything?¡±
She waited for him to elaborate but when he didn¡¯t, she spoke again. ¡°What, exactly, is them?¡±
¡°Everything. I thought that would be obvious by now.¡± He shook his head as he padded around her, leaning on his staff for support. ¡°Everything has magical properties; everything can feed you. To draw upon it in dire need is acceptable. Having spent yourself and death is moments away, the life around you will give you magic. However, to take from another being of sentience is unforgivable.¡± He muttered something under his breath and walked further around her, shaking his head and mumbling things. Julie couldn¡¯t catch everything, but she swore she could hear another voice talking to Fife Doole, almost too quiet to hear.
¡°¡ you shouldn¡¯t have told her that.¡±
¡°It matters not. Cannot change what hasn¡¯t happened and what may or may not come.¡±
For a moment, Julie thought she was going insane, hearing another voice talking to her master, but since Fife answered back ¡ he might be cracked. She vowed to pay closer attention to him.
¡°How will I know¡ªand how will you know¡ªwhen I achieve what you instructed?¡± Julie voiced. When he answered, it seemed like he did not address her but someone else.
¡°I will know because I am shifting through the changing currents of time and events. You will know because you will detect the change and¡±¡ªhe paused and stopped in front of her¡ª¡°I will tell you.¡±
Julie took this into consideration as she pondered the outcome of her next question. ¡°Master, when will you teach me true magic?¡±
¡°True magic?¡±
¡°Will you teach me to fight? You have taught me so many things that I can use to turn inward. You¡¯ve taught me basics of healing, of protection, even to test the air for poisons, but you never once showed me how to attack.¡±
¡°Why would you need to attack, Starriace?¡±
¡°To defend myself against those who would make me suffer. To protect others against people like Xilor.¡±
¡°Who said he was a person?¡± He waved the question away, shuffling towards his cottage. ¡°You can defend yourself and others when you master defense, not before.¡±
Through her conflict of emotions, her curiosity outclassed her. ¡°When can I learn more of Judas?¡±
¡°Master the task before you and worry not about Judas,¡± he said, without looking back. Then, he stopped and added, ¡°And when you find yourself.¡± He left her sitting, facing away from him and his house. ¡°Do not come in until you have done both.¡±
She turned from her perfect sitting posture to look back at him. ¡°Where am I supposed to eat and sleep?¡±
¡°Not my problem,¡± his answer came, along with the sharp and resounding crack as the door slammed shut behind him.
Put the ring on! Leave! How many times must you be shunned and pushed aside before you act?
She nearly rose to do as the voice bid, but at the last instant, she resisted.
Not yet, she told herself.
But soon.
Chapter 60: Julie and Fife
¡°We are running low on necessities and the winter months are yet over,¡± Fife informed Julie. ¡°Today, I will teach you the basic properties of metal. When you finish your lesson, you will take the ingot into town and buy supplies.¡±
¡°What ingot, master?¡± The confusion was normal. Julie possessed over half of what she took from Judas, just over six silver chips. Never once had Julie seen money in Fife¡¯s residence.
¡°The one you will create.¡± He padded over to a small wooden box at the foot of his bed and retrieved a small bar made from some form of metal. Which one, Julie had no clue. He placed the bar in her hands. ¡°Looks like an ingot, does it not, Starriace?¡± Julie ground her teeth as she scrutinized the object.
Unleash your magic on him! the voice pleaded.
The time was not right despite the implied gratification. Not yet, anyway.
¡°Yes, except for the lack of gold.¡±
¡°Ever the bright one,¡± he retorted. ¡°This will be your guide. You shall shape the gold to match this precisely, do you understand?¡±
¡°How do I forge one? With a smelting chamber?¡± she asked flippantly.
¡°Have you not paid attention the last season? Three months and you still ask me questions! I taught you all you need to accomplish a simple task, and you balk?¡± Fife spat on the floor. ¡°I endure your contempt, I endure your attitude and disrespect, I even endure the part of you screaming for my blood,¡± the gnomling thundered, ¡°and you snivel when I grant you a task!¡±
Julie sprang to her feet, her eyes flashing with hate and resentment. Before she could reach for a wand or formulate a spell in her mind, an overbearing power slammed her back down into her seat. The chair buckled, under the pressure. She found herself face down on the floor, the wood creaking beneath her weight and the force the Grand Maghai applied.
Fight back! the dark voice pleaded.
I can¡¯t, I shamed myself with disrespect.
You are a coward!
I am prudent.
You are weak!
The one who shows the most restraint is the victor.
You are helpless!
Those three words wounded her more than Mr. Pleasure ever did. The anger and fear flared, burning radiant, hot like a nova. Her skin itched with fire while she fought against Fife¡¯s oppression. She reached for his pressure and punched a hole through, like a blast of liquid fire through a slab of ice. In a sudden and jarring instance, Fife¡¯s hold broke, and she surged up to her knees before the hold took her again. With her face clear of the floor, Julie¡¯s eyes beheld Fife¡¯s fury.
In recollection, Julie should have never doubted that Fife would kill her in their first mental battle. Now, she was truly terrified. Perhaps a god or demon possessed him, augmented his already unfathomable abilities. His face blazed, an iron grimace. When he spoke again, his voice thundered with near-divine power.
¡°You shall never raise a hand to me again!¡± he bellowed. ¡°You will lock away whatever demons lurk within you, or you will be gone.¡± Julie couldn¡¯t discern if he intended to make her leave or kill her.
His aura faded, regressing, and his face softened like his voice. ¡°You cannot fight who you are forever. You must accept your birthright. By denying yourself, you are closed to your potential, helpless, pitiful, do you understand, Julie?¡±
A small expression of shock rolled across her face. That was the first time he used her name, the one she knew.
¡°We still need supplies, and you need your lesson, do you not?¡± He traipsed outside, and Julie followed meekly in his wake. The Grand Maghai continued into the woods; juniper fragrance filled the air, dead twigs and bark crunched underfoot. A divination stole over Julie in the silence. Fife, though always quick to judge and harsh with his words, rarely fixated. Even now, certain of her imminent death, the gnomling shrugged it off. The transgression had passed, the lesson learned.
In the distance, a stream bubbled, racing through serpentine twists down the mountain. A bird chirped in the limbs above her head. Julie never realized before now, but all these sounds were never present while in the vicinity of Fife¡¯s cabin. Months had slithered by since she heard a bird. Did he have a deadening spell of some sort around his cottage? A shield?
The singsong of birds lifted her spirits in a way she could not fathom or describe, having gone without such simple pleasures. Five minutes later, Fife stopped just inside a cave opening. With a flick of his fingers, the torches lit in their iron sconces. The walls glittered orange in the light.
¡°Tell me, apprentice, what is the difference between an ingot and a bright eye?¡±
¡°A bright eye is the term for a large, round, and heavy gold coin. Metal is mixed with the gold, diluting the purity, dropping the worth. An ingot is a small bar of pure gold three inches long by a half-inch wide by a half-inch tall, rectangular in design, and magically enhanced to keep its shape and firmness.
¡°How much is each worth?¡±
¡°A bright eye is six hundred scepters, and an ingot is six thousand scepters.¡±
¡°Very good,¡± Fife muttered. ¡°And how many people make an ingot¡¯s worth of money in a month?¡±
¡°The professions are rare,¡± Julie recited from memory. Her studies under Fife were all encompassing. ¡°Nongovernmental related jobs include farmers and blacksmiths, but they pay out so much for the upkeep of their lands, tools, and livestock that they do not make the most money. Government related jobs include positions of the noble houses: consuls, mayors, and governors in addition to the three highest ranks of the military: meyjour, kernoyl, and jynerul.¡±
¡°That¡¯s enough,¡± Fife spoke into the flickering light. ¡°You shall make one ingot from the gold of this mine following the example I gave you back at the house. When you extract enough from the rock, return home and craft it.¡± Fife left her, and for once, Julie didn¡¯t ask how she to accomplish her task.
Julie sat in front of the wall like she would outside Fife¡¯s hut, the flickering torches dancing across the slick walls. Julie¡¯s robes soaked up the moist and cool air. With her essence, she brushed the wall, tracing along the cracks and crevices, feeling the strengths and weaknesses. Then, she pushed, not invasive but passive, her aura like a mist passing through the rock. Julie closed her eyes, searching for a rich vein and manipulated the soft metal on a molecular level, siphoning through the rock until she extracted a small ball the size of a tangerine in the palm of her hand. She returned to Fife¡¯s cottage, sitting at the table, comparing her work against the guide he provided. Hours trickled away before she completed the replica.
Fife gave her a coin purse and deposited the ingot inside. He gave her a list and an additional bag of small stones. ¡°When you finish filling the list, place a stone in each crate. The stone will teleport the crate here. You may keep the change you receive. We can make another if need be, is that not so?¡±
Julie nodded and set out for the small village at the foot of the mountains.
Korlin¡¯s Cove was a small settlement established by distant relatives of the Korlins. Korlinville remained the seat of the minor noble family. Korlin¡¯s Cove, however, lay outside castle walls, the majority of the buildings snuggled against the mountains. The Cove matched Cape Gythmel in size, near nonexistent.
The castle walls, small in stature, lay in a great state of disrepair. Deep wagon tracks rutted the compact dirt streets. Cobbled buildings of half rotted wood littered the sides of the main road. A town this small had but one establishment for each need: a general store, a mill, a blacksmith, barber, bank, stable, and a flock of geese. The prevalent aroma of pig excrement hit Julie¡¯s nostrils before she entered from the south. No guards patrolled the streets, but everyone recognized her as a stranger.
The sole rock building, hedged in manicured greenery, caught her eye. The arctic blue wood paneling around gleaming, spotless windows seemed fresh, a sharp contrast to the shambles clustered around it. The sign overhead with gilded lettering read: Royal Treasury. Opulence amongst the grime of swine, a sense of regality percolated the air around the bank. She entered. Inside, only one man was present, engrossed in his ledger. A look of shock came over his face when Julie cleared her throat, breaking his attention.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.
¡°Madam,¡± he said, clambering up from his chair. ¡°How may I be of service to you today?¡±
¡°I need to exchange some rather large currency, and I do not think the general store will be able to break it.¡±
¡°You¡¯ve come to the right place,¡± the man flourished a smile.
I came to the only fucking place, Julie clarified internally.
¡°We deal in all currency from Ralloc to Stratu¡¯Geim: goblin, troll, scepters¡ª¡± The desk thumped when Julie laid the ingot before him. He rocked back on his heels and reevaluated her, his eyes gleaming with greed. ¡°We can break that,¡± he said at last.
He has never seen this much money in one lump sum.
Julie handed him her coin purse. ¡°Then please do. Give me half in bright eyes, the remaining I would like divided with fourteen hundred in chips and one hundred in bits, or something close.¡±
The clerk licked his dry lips before smiling. ¡°Right away. It will take some time, however.¡±
¡°Fine; I have a shopping list to check off. I¡¯ll be over at the store filling the order. How long will you need?¡±
¡°Half an hour tops, madam.¡±
¡°Very well,¡± Julie took a step back but lurched forward, leaning over the desk, the movement fluid. The dark voice emerged, dominating her. ¡°If you run with my money, there is no family that can hide you, no guard that can protect you, no fortress that can conceal you from me.¡±
The clerk¡¯s eyes filled with fright, his slack mouth hung open, an expression of disbelief on his face. He gaped at her like she discovered some dark, dirty secret, terrified she¡¯d tell the whole town.
Julie smiled as she straightened. ¡°Good day to you, Arysto.¡± The title Arysto, learned from the Essence Transference and compounded by Fife¡¯s teaching, was the proper title for a male of noble birth but of undeclared House or lineage. Arista sufficed for a woman.
Julie exited the bank, noting the clerk¡¯s mad scramble to fulfill his promise in the allotted time. She worked her way down the street to the general store. The building, though big for Korlin¡¯s Cove, seemed no bigger than the tailor shop in Far Point, but easily four times the size of Fife¡¯s cottage. Surrendering the list to the owner, her order, nestled in twenty large, wooden crates, was filled and placed on the front porch. By the time the last crate arrived, the banker had stumbled out of his door and sprinted towards her as if beasts chased him. He skittered to a stop in front of Julie. His breath ragged, he handed her the purse she left with him, ponderously heavy compared to before.
¡°As requested,¡± he sucked in his breath as he dabbed his perspiring forehead with a handkerchief. ¡°Five bright eyes equalling three thousand, ninety-five silver equalling two thousand eight hundred and fifty in chips, and one hundred and fifty scepters remaining in bits. Here is your receipt, Madam.¡± Julie halted the retreating man.
¡°Wait!¡± she commanded. She handed him ten bits. ¡°Thank you for your haste.¡± She turned, retreating inside, the banker all but forgotten. The manager finished tallying her total, double and triple checking.
¡°Is there some noble¡¯s feast no one told us about?¡± a man on the front porch laughed as he eyed Julie¡¯s items.
¡°That¡¯s gotta cost mo¡¯ than a feast,¡± another chortled.
¡°Four hundred and fifty scepters, madam,¡± the manager finished his third tally.
Damn, it does cost more than a noble¡¯s feast.
These supplies would last her and Fife a year, perhaps longer. Julie withdrew fifteen silver from her coin purse and settled the bill. She pulled another silver out of her bag and flipped it to the manager. Tucking her money away, she reached for the other bag holding the small stones. Dusk approached as she placed a stone in each of the crates while the town folk gathered and laughed at her. When the boxes began to disappear, abrupt silence fell. It scared one old man so bad, he shat himself¡ªor at least sounded like it¡ªas the first box vanished. Julie palmed a stone for her, and she, too, vanished.
With her late return, Fife took care of the stock while she scarfed down her measly dinner of beans and bread. The journey was a happy necessity, given what she had to eat, and it gave her a reprieve from the normal rigors of tutelage. Again, grudgingly, she had to admit, Fife knew how to train her despite his eccentric approach.
After her meager meal and a quick bath, she fell asleep, her stomach tumbling, anticipating the next lesson in the morning.
Julie awoke to voices. A quick glance at the window told her it was still dark. Though groggy, she lay still, quiet, until she could discern the voices. At first, she thought the gnomling talked to himself again, but two distinct voices twined, one belonging to Fife, the other to a female.
¡°¡the end draws nigh,¡± the female spoke.
¡°Impossible, she hasn¡¯t learned enough yet! Have I not kept her from learning magic she could use in aggression?¡±
So, the little bastard is keeping things from me.
¡°She stands upon the precipice.¡±
¡°I do not believe it. A darkness sways her, true, but I don¡¯t believe she is inherently evil. This, I know!¡±
¡°She will submit to other masters, just as she had a master before you. The seed of evil is within her and it will rise. There is nothing you can do to expunge the darkness.¡±
¡°The girl is defiant, true! Confused, uneducated, disrespectful, and every other negative trait she could possess, but are there not other good traits she retains?¡± It took her a moment to escape the fog of sleep. Did she hear this right? Did Fife defend her? He continued. ¡°I have seen her defiance, stubbornness, felt her hostility with mistrusting eyes, but are those not good qualities, too?¡±
¡°To a degree, Grand Maghai, to a degree. You are not the only one who watches her,¡± the female spoke. ¡°She is ambitious beyond measure. Too ambitious. She will break sacred vows and laws in her aggressive determination, and is intolerant of anyone that defies her or tells her she is wrong. Do those sound like good qualities?¡± Julie could hear Fife¡¯s resigned sigh. The female continued, ¡°She is but what you make her. When the seasons change, you will know.¡±
Then the voices died, and silence ensued. Julie tried to go back to sleep but couldn¡¯t, the solemn warning kept her awake.
When the seasons change, you will know. What did that mean?
Fife queried the other speaker one last time but received no reply. ¡°Do I not already know? You are not so different than that which you chastise?¡±
Julie¡¯s eyes darted to the pack where the ring lay unattended. She swore it pleaded with her to slip it on, or was it a figment of her overzealous imagination?
Eventually, sleep stole over her, but the morning did not bring solace, nor the days after. Julie burned with resentment for Fife¡¯s utterly defeating her. While she could acknowledge that she had been wrong in wanting to lash out, he could have stopped her attack by other means, but he hadn¡¯t.
He shamed you.
Her pride wounded, she felt like a small child, humiliated in front of the masses. Bitterness festered. With each passing day, she found more reasons to be angry with him, and since the morning he shamed her, holding her down on the floor, he neither called her Julie or Starriace, always referring to her as apprentice or child. He humiliated her further with chores around the cottage, a duty yet given.
He explained his reasoning, passing it off as a custom, saying: ¡°You have been part of my house for over a season and no longer considered a guest, you¡¯re a member of the household until you leave.¡± It wasn¡¯t the chores that galled her, but his condescending voice. It was always so now.
Or is that just in my head?
No, he despises you.
When the seasons change, you will know, the words flared in her mind.
What little free time she had, she spent as far away from the Grand Maghai without being blatant. After lessons, she returned to the willow tree near the edge of Fife¡¯s clearing and meditated the way Harold taught her. She reached out, touching the life within the humming insects, the chirping birds, the tree itself, connecting the links between the different life forces, tracing them, finding the similarities. The process once took an odious amount of time without Harold¡¯s guidance, but each day the effort eased, quickened. The first attempt took hours to reach completion, then minutes, now it was near instantaneous.
Each time, she entered the Shadowcasting, reliving her death, Fife standing over her body.
The first time shocked her, jarring her out of the Shadowcast, unaware of the ability or possibility to see one¡¯s future. With trepidation and sick curiosity, she returned to her meditation. The events started out nearly the same; she would say or do something that greatly displeased him. He rebuked her, then a magical battle ensued. Each time manifested differently, the location changed, the pretext to their fight evolved. Sometimes, Fife destroyed her, other times she nearly won. He¡¯d always call her empress right before he destroyed her. The end never changed, which fueled her anger and resentment, knowing he kept things from her.
It¡¯s like Judas all over again!
Fife¡¯s caveat from the Shadowcast haunted her dreams and plagued her while awake: ¡°Empress, I shall die before I suffer your evilness upon Ermaeyth.¡± What did he mean by that?
He means to kill you.
The changing was not far off, and on that day, she will have been with Fife for half a year.
Thoughts tethered with doubt hearkened back to Rusem¡¯s ring. She had a way out¡ªleave before Fife killed her. Rusem promised to teach her if she chose to return.
But Harold¡¯s warning also echoed in her head: ¡®The possibility of what she saw may alter the outcome. One event begets another, and will always do so unless affected by an outside source. You must be a shadow when foreseeing these events, there but not part of the world which you see.¡¯
And it was true.
Each time she saw, events and circumstances always changed, except Fife¡¯s warning and her demise.
The moons lurched through their cycles at an alacritous pace; perhaps they seemed to with Julie being acutely aware of her imminent death.
When the seasons change, you will know.
Caliginous shadows relinquished the faces of the celestial bodies. Soon, all three full moons would fall into alignment, marking the new season.
The omen clear, the fated rivalry was only days away.
Chapter 61: Julie and Fife
Fife placed a small bag in Julie¡¯s palm. Perplexed, she opened it, spying several smooth stones of different shades and colors.
¡°What is this, master?¡± she asked, curious.
¡°Today, you shall learn by feel. Can you do this, apprentice? You will find porting stones within, which will teleport you to random destinations, you understand?¡± He held up a bright red stone. ¡°This one shall bring you back here. Are you ready to learn, apprentice?¡± She nodded warily. ¡°This is no fool¡¯s quest, do not be so suspicious, child. Each will take you to a place.¡± He held up another empty bag. ¡°The used ones shall go into the empty bag, yes?¡±
Julie nodded her understanding.
¡°Good, now off with you.¡±
¡°What am I feeling for, master?¡±
¡°For the magic, for the effects. When the teleport happens, open yourself not only to the granules of the air, but the granules of magic, just so. You will observe how they move and shape and change to achieve the port, do you understand?¡±
¡°Yes, master. Granules ¡ again.¡±
Fife nodded and grunted, he left her standing outside, closing the door to his cottage. Julie¡¯s strides took her to the sloping trail, leading down to Korlin¡¯s Cove. She took out the first stone, pale pink and flecked with blue, rolling it in her fingers. Cool to the touch with a faint inner light, the polished rock was otherwise ordinary. She gripped it firmly in her hand, fingers curling, encompassing, knuckles turning white. The magic swirled around her hand, then her body.
Air granules and magic melded together. Her surroundings stretched before her in a blur, her body moving forward at unfathomable speeds, yet her feet never moved. Stretched scenery swirled, creating a cyclone as she hurtled down the eye of the storm, the light shifting colors. Before she could take a breath, she emerged at her destination.
Dark and sunless gloom prevailed on her first stop, cooled by canopied shade. Moss grew thick, a heavy earth and mulch odor hanging stagnant in the air. The atmosphere was damp, and the world had a muted quality to it. At first impulse, Julie feared that she reached the Corridor of Cruelty, thinking Fife betrayed her, but quickly realized her mistake by the time she drew her wand. The swamplands came next, but the trees that pressed in around her were too thick for the swamp. She arrived somewhere new.
Stray and queer sounds reached her ears, her eyes searching the cloister of trees. Shadows stretched like wisps of smoke, curling, coiling like a serpent. A rustling drew her eyes further into the deep, dark, damp wooded area. Another rustling to her left; she pivoted, her breath erratic as she searched. Grunts, haggard respiration, and a burst of noise like the crunching of dead leaves descended upon her from behind. She turned, a grotesque creature of a green-gray hue rushed her like a gorilla on all fours. It had two legs and four arms, two protruding from its back. The face, marred with gouges, protruding teeth, and three eyes, promised her a grueling death.
Without deliberate thought, she displaced the creature and launched him backward. Julie didn¡¯t care to watch where he landed, it didn¡¯t matter, she only sought to leave. With haste, she dropped the used stone into the empty bag and pulled another stone from her other bag. She heard the rustling again but this time in multitude. Four more creatures of similar build bore down on her. One leaped for the mage, but the scenery stretched, swirled, and changed, ripping her from the heart of the Goblin Forest.
Her feet hit a fine powder. The impact sent a plume into the air, softer than snowflakes falling lazily from the sky, though some continued up, disappearing into the air. Without the unforgiving heat, the premonition of standing in a desert seemed unlikely. Though the new location lacked the deep cold like driven snow, a fierce ache gnawed at her bones. What Julie experienced from this place was unlike anything she had witnessed before, and could only describe it as a void; her breath lacked sound though her lungs filled with air. The air remained still, unmoved. The prior location scared her with the sudden attack, but this place creeped her out. Her breath came quick and deep, her eyes wide, darting around. In a moment of clarity through rising panic, she fumbled for a new stone that would take her far, far away.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!
When she cleared her newest teleport, a black ground darker than charcoal rushed up to greet her. The grit crunched beneath her heel, flaking and crumbling away. The clouds billowed above and blotted out the suns, their rays diminished through the aerial veil. Monolith stones and epitaphs littered the way before her, and wisps of an inky blackness twined about like oily smoke. Julie pulled her wand again, the tip illuminating at her thought. She peered closer to the monolith before her:
HERE LIES TARQUIN KOTHLUS
LOVING FATHER, BRAVE WARRIOR
BELOVED BROTHER TO THE KING
Kothlus?
She peered at more monoliths and epitaphs; names flashed across each stone face she passed: Kothlere, Kothlus, Poplu, Dathyr, Nelb, Lakayre, Tyku, Korlin, Lor, Geim, and so many more. Other than the Kothlere and Kothlus names, she couldn¡¯t tell whether they were all from noble houses. She did, however, see an ancestor of Judas within the maze of names.
A shadow skittered towards her in the distance. A soft shriek grated her nerves like the grinding of teeth from a sleeping child. The scarcely discernible noise of gurgling breath sounded from the deep. The sound echoed, impossible for her to catch when the sound began and where it ended.
¡°What comes?¡± a deep, rattling breath called slowly.
Julie bolted up from the sojourn among the epitaphs. Her fingers fumbled numbly for a new pebble as the shadow snaked towards her. Through the cloud¡¯s obscurity and light diminishing properties of her surroundings, Julie recognized the entity, her eyes going wide. She had seen one before. A cold sweat prickled her spine, the returning memory felt like a dream. Judas had fought with one from¡ªsomewhere?
Gods, where was that? Was it a dream or did it happen?
The cloud of black smoke billowed in and out as it neared. Her scrambling fingers finally found purchase as she backpedaled. The stone¡¯s power rushed up and enveloped her, taking her far from the monoliths of the dead and the approaching shadow.
Her eyes were blinded for a few moments as the suns blazed hot and naked in the cloudless sky. A burnt smell reached her nostrils while she spied charred wood, crushed rocks, and shattered remains of a town. The radius of the town was small, far smaller than Far Point, an insignificant spec on a map next to the grandiose scale of Ralloc or even Dlad City. For a moment, she stood in silent horror, witnessing the aftermath of devastation. Bones jutted out amongst the remains. Someone attempted to clean up the carnage, but abandoned the operation, half completed. Peering closer, the charred remains, broken bodies, and corpses in various states of decomposition filled her eyes. She had seen this place before, she was sure of it. Though destroyed, it was still recognizable.
This is Wizard¡¯s Pass, where the trolls first attacked. I saw this in my Shadowcasting.
And the memory came back, all the death and blood and destruction. Even the exchange she had with Judas returned.
¡°So much death and violence, I don¡¯t think I can stomach a war!¡±
¡°You better get used to seeing it,¡± he barked, his voice stern.
But she didn¡¯t want to be desensitized. It was madness. Hate blossomed in her bosom, her skin itched with ire, tingling and quivering with malice channeled towards the being responsible for the massacre: Xilor. The building enmity augmented her abilities and sensitivity, the faintest touch of a presence communed with her, strong and radiant, warm and caring. The touch like a memory, faint but familiar.
Judas.
She noted his concern, knowing he recognized her wrath and pain, but she clamped down on her aura, her essence, and withdrew from his touch. She turned her attention back to the scene before her. Seething at the injustice and plotting revenge for the fallen, she couldn¡¯t help but wonder if this was Fife¡¯s true lesson today. Every place she ventured to seemed, in some way, tied to the tyrant; this last stop affirmed the suspicion. Perhaps Fife¡¯s intent was a motivator for her to choose her fate or fulfill the destiny orchestrated by the fairies. She hardened herself from the flood of emotions the evident massacre invoked. For strength, she repeated her vow, her mantra, but with an amendment.
I will never be weak again. I will never be helpless. And if the fairies believe me to be the mage from beyond, I will fulfill their prophecy by killing this fucking son of a bitch or die trying!
Chapter 62: Xenomene
Six months ago¡
The night pressed in on Xenomene as she stood vigil over her sleeping Krey. It was her turn for the Hour of Challenging, a segment of time set aside for someone to stay awake during the night, mindful of silent enemies slipping amongst them. Her breath misted in front of her and a wolf howled in the distance. She twirled her sword lazily in her right hand.
Scrotum of gods, when is my hour up?
She yearned to return to her blankets, to strip off her clothes and sleep. Xenomene wore clothing out of necessity. The only difference between being on the trail with her squad and back in the Hive was that now every once in a while, one of them saw her flesh. She often wondered if they would hound her, but none bothered her thus far, except Bitcher. They couldn¡¯t see her beneath the blankets, and it wasn¡¯t like none of them hadn¡¯t seen someone naked before. But in the Hive, she could bolt the door and had the privacy of her room.
She sighed, wondering when or if she would ever return to her room.
The stars twinkled above, and Auqyn glittered with its pearl luminescence; Faellon had already departed the sky. A movement behind her set her hairs on end, and she pivoted, bringing her sword point just shy of Bitcher¡¯s throat.
¡°It is unwise to sneak up on me,¡± she warned.
¡°I ain¡¯t sneaking, bitch, I was walking quietly as not to wake the others,¡± he grumbled, his gloved finger pushed the point away. ¡°I¡¯ve gotta piss, and it¡¯s my watch next.¡± Xeno nodded but didn¡¯t say anything. He sauntered away, standing next to a tree.
She turned away when Bitcher removed his manhood from his pants but cast a glance over her shoulder. He let out quiet moans as he sprayed his stream to and fro, drawing crooked lines on the ground, steam rising from his urine. Xeno rolled her eyes and sighed, turning her head away, wishing to be away from him and the rest of her squad. She didn¡¯t even want to indulge futile thoughts of when she would be alone again. When he finished, Bitcher returned to her side. He grabbed her buttocks and gave them a squeeze before letting go.
Her emerald eyes narrowed, and she turned her head towards him. ¡°Can I help you?¡±
¡°You know,¡± he said at last, ¡°I haven¡¯t had my cock sucked since we left over a moon turn ago.¡±
¡°Is that why you are up early? In the hopes I would suck you off before you assumed watch?¡±
¡°Well,¡± he shrugged, ¡°it would be a starting point. You know how we Forgotten Islanders are.¡± He smiled, teasing her.
Only from what I have heard, though I¡¯m not sure if what they say is true. It would be interesting to find out. She mentally shrugged. Or maybe it wouldn¡¯t. I don¡¯t care now; I just want to sleep.
¡°Oh, so you want to fuck?¡± she whispered. Bitcher cast her a sideways glance, but said nothing. ¡°It has been a long time for me. Do you want to fuck me?¡± Her eyes twinkled, but he was still wary of falling into a trap. ¡°How do you want to do it? Are you going to lay on the ground and I straddle you, or am I just going to bend over? Did you want me to suck your dick before or after you fucked me?¡±
Hearing Xenomene¡¯s provocative talk excited him, his manhood swelling. He turned to her, but stopped short when the long blade of her knife cleared its sheath and rested firmly against his favorite body part. ¡°If you value your friend as much as I think you do, you will never talk to me about sex again. Understand?¡±Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.
¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± he breathed, nodding vigorously.
¡°Besides,¡± Xeno returned the blade to her sheath as quickly as it cleared, ¡°everyone knows you got genital warts or some other type of fungus growing on your shit.¡± Bitcher shoved her, his ego bruised. She continued taunting him. ¡°You should ask Two-Tons. I hear if you close your eyes and have some butter available, it is almost the same.¡± She let out a huff of air. ¡°You¡¯re taking the rest of my hour for touching my ass. Consider it as payment. Hope it was worth it.¡±
She patted him on the shoulder and turned to go when a blue light burst into existence outside their encampment. The light faded as fast it appeared. Five wizards stood in a semicircle; their dark robes made the Kothlere sigil on their chests stand out.
Xenomene spun, alacritous, lithe. They found us! she realized with horror. Before the light faded, Xenomene¡¯s blade was free of her scabbard.
¡°TO ME!¡± she screamed. The bloodlust took over, and she leaped for the nearest one. The gulf between them spanned over ten meters, but the bloodlust, coupled with her dragon-plate emboldened with runes, augmented her skills. The blade whistled through the air and would have split the mage in half without his barrier enveloping him. In the mind meld, she could feel the other consciousness of the Krey awakening; their rage joined with hers, swords screamed free of their sheaths.
Indistinct shouts cried out in the night as the mages formed a tighter semicircle, backing away from the stirring Krey. Even the A¡¯uri joined the meld now. A glowing barrier shone brightly, engulfing the five invaders.
¡°STOP!¡± the mental voice screamed, echoing through the heads of the Krey. Xeno recognized the voice, it belonged to the Mind, the A¡¯uri who controlled the meld. Her bloodlust howled for the mage¡¯s blood, to bathe her steel with their insides, but the power of compulsion from the Mind¡¯s command kept her sword at bay. Slowly, the red veil drained from her, dissipated by the power of the Mind. Her limbs trembled, the adrenaline depleting rapidly.
¡°We mean you no harm!¡± the first mage yelled. Weapons grudgingly returned to their sheaths. Xenomene kept hers out.
¡°We were sent by the consul,¡± another called out.
¡°That cunt,¡± Bitcher shouted back. ¡°That castrated fool is a gutless worm.¡±
¡°Don¡¯t call her that to her face,¡± another responded.
¡°Her?¡± Xenomene inquired, perplexed.
¡°Aye,¡± the first one spoke again, taking charge of the conversation. ¡°Many things have changed since you left the Hive. There is a new consul, for starters.¡±
¡°Oi, that¡¯s just fucking perfect. Instead of that witless cock of a consul, we have his lapdog, a cock-sucking piece of ass for our commander,¡± Bitcher yelled to the stars.
¡°Silence, cunt! Let the mage fucking speak!¡± Xeno shouted back.
¡°Who are you calling a cunt, bitch?¡± he replied, pulling his dagger from his belt.
¡°She¡¯s calling you a cunt, Bitcher, so shut the fuck up,¡± Raven barked. ¡°Xenomene is also second in command, and you will answer to her as you would me!¡± Raven trekked to the front of the group and stood beside Xeno. ¡°Forgive my associates; they are schooled in war, not propriety. Please, tell us of your news.¡±
¡°Apology accepted, and please forgive us for our abrupt appearance; we did not mean to startle you or teleport so closely. That was an err of judgment on my part. I am John of the Gyles House.¡±
What¡¯s a minor noble lord doing all the way out here? Xenomene wondered.
When it came to houses and nobility, the distinction was in the way they introduced themselves. Every Krey was taught such etiquette in case any dignitaries visited from Ralloc, which was more often than they admitted. John was of a minor noble family, hence his proclamation ¡®John of the Gyles House.¡¯ Had he been of a noble family, he would have introduced himself as ¡®John of House Gyles.¡¯
¡°Arysto,¡± Raven said with a bow of his head.
¡°I am not here as an Arysto,¡± John assured him, ¡°but as John Gyles, Grand Master Wizard of portals.¡± Confusion blossomed on the faces of the Krey. Even the A¡¯uri were unsure of how to react. ¡°I have been charged by Consul Meristal Raviils, Lady of the Kothlere Council, Lord of Ralloc domain, Commander of the Grand Royal Army, to find you and open a portal for you to Cape Gythmel.¡± Silence descended upon the gathering. The wizards¡¯ eyes darted between each Krey, shifting uneasily on their feet, waiting for any sign up an impending attack. John took the silence as a sign of mistrust. ¡°I assure you, my intentions are pure. A lot has changed.¡±
Xenomene was the first to shatter the brittle silence.
¡°Shades of the Underworld, what the fuck has happened in Ralloc?¡±
Chapter 63: Meristal
¡°Why is it every time I wake up and come in here,¡± Meristal asked the council with as much decorum as she could muster, ¡°there is another big pile of shit that I have to clean up?¡± She noticed a few withering glances from Kayis¡¯ supporters, but they remained tight-lipped. They spoke little and agreed even less. Meristal also caught the other glances from the members of the Kothlere Council, looks of embarrassment or apprehension. ¡°What else do I need to know about? Let¡¯s get it all out today, because I swear by the gods, if I come in here tomorrow and I find more stuff to clean up, political heads are going to roll.¡±
Poplu smirked and spoke up, ¡°Which gods?¡±
¡°Does it matter?¡± Meristal snapped back, losing her calm composure for a brief flash. ¡°Dwaven, troll, vampire, wizard, whichever gods are listening. By all of them, I don¡¯t care!¡± She sighed with frustration. ¡°Who is in charge of our treasury?¡±
Kellis spoke, ¡°Many offices are in charge of our finances. The Office of Legal Tender, the Office of Tax, the Office of Imports and Exports, the office of Expenditure, the Office of Acquisitions, the Office of Foreign Currency and Trade, the Office of¡ª¡±
¡°You¡¯ve made your point,¡± Meristal growled. She massaged her temples as Poplu and Capraro smirked at each other. ¡°Very well. Bring me the person in charge of each office.¡±
¡°Now?¡± Lagelm inquired.
¡°Yes, now! I don¡¯t care what they are doing. If they are in meetings, interrupt them, if they are enjoying a day off, send a herald with an escort of guards. In fact, send each with a team of guards, so they know I mean business. The only exceptions I will make is if they are sick, their wife is giving birth, or if they are dead!¡± The heralds below the council¡¯s dais stared at her for a moment, unsure if she was serious or not. The scribes even paused and attended expectantly.
¡°Go!¡±
Pandemonium erupted as each herald hurried to their assigned tasks. When the bluster faded, Meristal looked at each council member.
¡°What else needs to be brought to my attention?¡±
Sedrus harrumphed before starting. ¡°The channel being dug from the Golden City to Ralloc. Construction by the Golden City is well underway.¡±
¡°Is it too late to stop it?¡± Meristal offered.
¡°Yes, construction began a score of years ago.¡±
¡°How much does it cost us?¡±
¡°The amount is unknown, the Office of Labor hold the details to that,¡± Sedrus supplied.
Meristal lifted her head up and scanned below for a messenger. Finding none, she glanced down the end of the council¡¯s bench at Capraro, one of the former consul¡¯s supporters. ¡°Bring me the person in charge of the office of Labor.¡±
He balked at her. ¡°You can¡¯t be serious?¡± he laughed. Meristal didn¡¯t say anything; she just let her amethyst gaze pierce him until he felt the urge to flee her scrutiny. She moved on once he vacated the chambers.
¡°Next?¡±This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
¡°There is the increase in costs for warhorses for officers in the Grand Royal Army,¡± Daylynn pointed out. When Meristal first took this job, each day she loathed going to work because she would have to see Daylynn Reese, however, she quickly found that Daylynn was one of her strongest advocates. It was a welcomed shock, and while Meristal was silently grateful, she still despised her. The feud between the two women would continue unto the grave, perhaps even after.
¡°What cost increase? Do the horses talk now? Make dinner?¡±
¡°An Epoch ago we agreed to order less as a means to save money. But now with a war starting, our need has increased again, but the warhorse breeders demand time and a half for their stock.¡±
¡°Correct me if I am wrong, but aren¡¯t the warhorses rather expensive?¡± Meristal groaned.
¡°Yes, the average cost is ten thousand scepters. Currently, the breeders are asking for fifteen.¡±
Meristal snorted. ¡°Not a chance, I will give them two ingots, twelve thousand scepters, but no more. At which case, it was already ridiculous before, and now it is more so. Shades, most people don¡¯t even make that much in a year!¡±
¡°The Army¡¯s upper echelon of officers do,¡± Kellis noted.
¡°Thank you for reminding me,¡± she replied curtly. ¡°What else?¡±
¡°You intend to swell our Army ranks by an additional one hundred thousand. The money we have allotted for this year¡¯s tax collection is spent. We are broke,¡± Sedrus declared.
¡°Broke? Last time I checked, our treasury is full of gold. Are you telling me if I go down to the vaults right now that it¡¯s all gone?¡±
¡°No,¡± Lagelm spoke up. ¡°That is our reserve.¡±
¡°Reserve? Jackal and Shades! We could go without collecting tax for an Age and barely put a dent into it,¡± the consul surmised.
¡°Perhaps, but I think you exaggerate, Consul,¡± Sedrus cautioned.
¡°Okay, spit it out all at once. What else do we need to work on?¡±
¡°Increase in mining, product yield for harvest, taxes, money for more ships to be built and the felled timber for its construction, lumberjacks, ship builders, haulers¡¡± Sedrus blurted.
Kellis picked up where he stopped. ¡°There are the demands for increased wages, better living accommodations, better food and cost of living expenses, and relocation allocation for all the canal workers either in the Golden City or en route.¡±
¡°The cost of the war, increased productions, the need for armor and weapons, leather, gear, clothing, and wagons to haul supplies and goods to Cape Gythmel,¡± Lagelm included.
¡°And that¡¯s without touching the woes of Ralloc,¡± Daylynn chimed in.
¡°How?¡± Meristal queried, letting her forehead rest on her desk.
¡°How what?¡± Poplu interrupted, the last of Kayis¡¯ supporters.
¡°How could you let it get this bad? Were you guys not paying attention at all or was Kayis hiding all this from you?¡±
Kellis coughed. ¡°Public opinion and image mattered more to him. He did make the masses happy, and they loved him, regardless of what he failed to do as the consul.¡±
¡°Does the general populace not know about these problems?¡± Meristal probed, afraid of what she might learn.
¡°Oh, they knew, they just blamed all the offices for dragging their feet. It was never Kayis¡¯ fault,¡± Daylynn admitted. ¡°He was good about letting others take the fall, as long as he didn¡¯t go down with them.¡±
Just then, the doors to the chambers burst open as guards ushered in the heads of offices that Meristal had requested. Dirty sandals, muddy boots, and the scuffed metal boots of the guards traipsed over the phthalo blue carpet, leaving stains of murky water, mud, and other untold specimens. Meristal looked up as they filed into the room. Forty men and women stood below the dais.
¡°Is this all?¡± she commented.
A herald stepped forward. ¡°These are for the offices you asked for.¡±
¡°Are you telling me there are others that are involved with our treasury?¡±
¡°Yes,¡± Kellis spoke up.
¡°Bring them; I¡¯ll wait.¡±
Chapter 64: Cape Gythmel
Just as Grand Master Wizard John Gyles promised, the Krey and A¡¯uri arrived at Cape Gythmel unmolested. The Black Tide emerged from the portal and walked right into a dilapidated village. Thick chunks of mud and manure served as the main road, pot holes filled with vile, stagnant water filled the air with the scent of mold and decay. Half-collapsed structures remained standing¡ªor rather leaning¡ªin their current state of disrepair. Loose farm animals milled about, defecating in the road, on the sidewalks of stores, or wherever else they felt like releasing their bowels. The outer wall of the crumbling, abandoned castle stopped at chest height, a poor excuse for defense or scenery. The farmers tilling the fields and planting crops stopped to watch the procession.
¡°This place is even shittier than I imagined!¡± Bitcher interrupted the silence.
¡°Shut it,¡± Xeno muttered.
¡°I hope they have food,¡± Drumstick complained. ¡°I¡¯m hungry.¡±
Keg grumbled, ¡°They better have ale or wine or rum, whatever passes for alcohol in these parts!¡±
¡°We¡¯re not here to eat and drink, but to work,¡± Raven reprimanded. He glanced around, taking in the few scant buildings that seemed operational and assessed the land. To the west was a densely wooded area and to the north and east was farm land. Towards the southeast lay a rock quarry. ¡°We¡¯ll make camp to the west, but not directly in front of the woods, we need that clear for when we fell them.¡± Raven called to the largest member of the squad, ¡°Tiny, take charge of setting up camp while I am gone to see about the supplies. Mark out our area for tents. Make sure it is well away from the village, but not too far to where we can¡¯t respond if something arises. Patch, help him. Mind,¡± he said to the A¡¯uri, ¡°you¡¯re coming with me, as is Xeno.¡±
Tiny trudged away, and the rest of the squad fell into step. Raven, Xeno, and the Mind turned towards the town, entering the perimeter of buildings. A tumbleweed blew across the street and the Mind laughed.
¡°What¡¯s so funny?¡± Xenomene inquired, missing the humor.
¡°I always thought tumbleweeds were a jape. I never knew they were real,¡± he explained.
¡°Yeah,¡± Xenomene replied drily, ¡°it was a first for me, too.¡±
¡°Quiet,¡± Raven chided them.
They reached the general goods store without incident except a stray gust of wind. When they breached the threshold, the hiss of a sword clearing its scabbard greeted them. The hands of the Krey went for their steel, but the Mind was already in control, cooling their bloodlust. Raven let go of his hilt first and let it hang at his waist while Xeno¡¯s knuckles grew white before she, too, released her sword.
¡°I know who you are!¡± barked the man holding the naked steel. ¡°You¡¯re that cursed Black Tide! It¡¯s illegal for you to be here!¡±
¡°Indeed, sire, you are correct; however, we are on orders from Ralloc,¡± the Mind spoke calmly. ¡°If you will allow me, I shall reach into my pack and pull out our Royal Edict with adorning seals. You shall find everything in order, I assure you.¡± He smiled.
¡°Nothing crafty, now,¡± said the owner. With care, he slid around the counter and into the light. He was an old man. His back stooped by Ages of hard work. Dirty spectacles rested on his nose and sweat poured freely from his sallow skin. His head was devoid of hair, and a bushy mustache rested on his upper lip. As he approached, Xenomene and Raven held their hands away from their swords and backed away. Even with a slight hunch, the man was startlingly tall.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
The Mind produced the Royal Edict for the elder. Once in his hands, he retreated behind his counter. Laying the sword on the counter top, he cracked the seal and unrolled the scroll, taking a few moments to inspect it. Xeno caught the Mind¡¯s eye, giving him a silent prod. He nodded and leisurely walked forward. The man, transfixed by the seals inside the vellum with ribbons accompanied by the offices of their executive order, looked up.
¡°Would you like for me to read it to you?¡± the Mind offered. The old man scowled at him, and the Mind stopped his forward progress before sighing. He laid the scroll down.
¡°No,¡± he said. ¡°I may not be able to read well, but I do know the consul¡¯s seal. What does it say, exactly?¡±
¡°Paraphrased, it states that you are to help us with all materials that we require. In compensation for your assistance, you will be substantially rewarded with monetary gain.¡± The old man moved his lips as the Mind spoke, sounding out his cultured words.
¡°What he means,¡± Xeno spoke softly without sarcasm, ¡°you give us supplies, and you can determine a fair and honest price, and Ralloc will pay it.¡±
Recognition dawned in his eyes. ¡°Aye, I can do that. What do you need?¡± The Mind handed him a list and the old man looked it over, grunting every once in a while. ¡°I can fill this, but I will have to put in a requisition for resupply¡ªit will be a while before it gets here. It comes from Dlad City.¡±
¡°That will not be an issue, good sire,¡± the Mind spoke smoothly. ¡°We will be here for some time and will routinely place orders with you. Perhaps we could start a tab with you keeping a tally of all the goods we procure, and the Royal Treasury will reimburse you.¡±
¡°A tab, eh? I will need a down payment.¡±
The Mind laid an ingot on the counter, the royal seal pressed into the gold, promising authenticity. All ingots were stamped from the bank they originated from, but an ingot from the Treasury retained the Kothlere sigil.
The owner¡¯s eyes widened, and a smile crept across his face. ¡°I think we can do business.¡±
¡°Good,¡± Raven spoke up for the first time, ¡°I am Raven, the Do-don of my squad. This lovely lady is my second in command, Xenomene. This mage is called Mind. I assure you, sire, that we will be the only three to place orders or come into your shop. I have a request to make of you, sire, if you will permit me.¡±
¡°Sure, speak.¡±
¡°When we come, please do not draw a weapon. To do so would cause ¡ a dire situation.¡±
The old man nodded his understanding. ¡°I think I can do that. I shall inform my other two workers as well.¡±
Raven stepped forward and shook the man¡¯s hand. ¡°A pleasure doing business with you ¡?¡±
¡°Lem,¡± he supplied. ¡°Lem of House Yeates.¡±
Shock rolled over the mage and the Krey.
¡°Arysto?¡± Xenomene¡¯s eyes went wide.
¡°Lord,¡± Raven corrected.
¡°Lord Yeates,¡± the Mind breathed. ¡°The Lord Yeates? A veteran of the Wizard¡¯s War?¡±
¡°All are correct, but please, Lem will do.¡±
¡°But ¡¡± Xenomene stuttered. ¡° ¡ if you are a Lord, then you know how to read,¡± she concluded.
¡°Oh, aye, I can read,¡± Lem nodded, smiling. ¡°My calligraphy reading skills are a bit rusty, but I can read fine just the same.¡±
¡°It was a test,¡± the Mind said, approving. Lem¡¯s eyes twinkled with amusement.
¡°Don¡¯t tell the others of your squad,¡± he chuckled.
Lem promised to fill their order in a few hours with the help of his grandsons and indicated that he deliver it to their camp instead of the Krey making several trips. As they left, Xeno was the first to speak.
¡°Who is Lord Yeates?¡± she asked.
¡°Xeno,¡± the Mind sighed, ¡°you just met a living legend. One of the last. I will tell you the tale some time.¡±
Chapter 65: The War Council
Meristal didn¡¯t feel much like her titles today. Instead, she felt like a house maid. In truth, when she ascended to the highest office, she became Lady of the Kothlere Council, Consul of Ralloc domain, Commander of the Grand Royal Army. Today, however, it was closer to Mother of Dirty Breeches, Sufferer of Squabbling Babies, Mass Murderer of the Kothlere Council¡¯s dreams. The War Council required her attention this morning, and if they had it their way, she¡¯d be with them for the rest of the week. With her practiced lawyer¡¯s face, she schooled her aristocratic features, took a deep breath, and entered the chambers.
¡°Madam Consul,¡± Master Jynerul Tyku greeted. All the jyneruls lurched to their feet as Meristal swept into the room with three other individuals in tow. Her dark purple robes with gold embroidery swirled about her. The five highest officers remained standing as she took her chair; her small entourage spied chairs and seated themselves with haste at the far end of the table.
¡°Be seated, good sires,¡± Meristal bade them.
The swelling of their ranks and the needs of the war machine were the two main topics up for discussion. War costs money and men, and the jyneruls expected to have both; due to the number of offices that pawed the Treasury, she created three billets filled by three individuals, and then cut off all access to the Treasury. It didn¡¯t make her the most popular consul to date, but popularity would not win a war or keep them from going bankrupt.
Her first appointment had come collectively from the offices of imports and exports. She had many to choose from, including that of foreign trade and local commerce, she selected the person who held the post or similar position the longest and who would encourage a grander view of Ermaeyth as a whole. Finding the right person for the job rather than choosing the person most senior did not win her any favors either. In the case of this post, she named Master Wizard Roxie of the Vernetti House. The choice seemed straight forward enough for Meristal, but it caused backlash among the council.
Most objected to her age and her low rank. The second most notable reason came by way of her minor nobility. The politicians were divided on the issue, some insisting such a billet should fall to the noble houses. While not unheard of for a minor noble to receive the honor of a posting higher than their status, it was an uncommon occurrence, and each time, the level of promotion came nowhere near the same lurch in elevated status as Meristal bestowed. Thus, Roxie became the Master of Commerce.
Her second appointment could, theoretically, combine into the previous, but she decided to split the duties so there would never be an internal struggle of one assigned the post. One appointment became two, one to spend, the other to save. For the role of the taxes and income, she chose an obtrusive and extremely frugal man: Grand Wizard Wes of House Bevyl. He, being of a higher rank and nobility status, aided in his easy ascension. With the majority mollified besides her and Daylynn, Wes became her Lord of Coffers.
For the third position, the Steward of Disbursement, whose sole purpose was finding ways to spend the Lord of Coffers saved money, Grand Master Wizard Maryssa of the Joel House seemed the logical choice. Again, the collective groan escaped her male-dominated associates, but Daylynn Reese reveled in their anguish. Even Meristal had to smile at the addition of another female. Still, she chose her because of qualifications, not because she was female.
At first, the council¡ªvoiced by Poplu and Capraro¡ªwas vehemently against appointing Maryssa because of her minor nobility. However, a minor noble achieving the rank of Grand Master Wizard was near-unprecedented, giving weight to Maryssa¡¯s impeccable qualifications. After doing some digging, Meristal found that only one other appointment occurred ten Ages past. Additionally, rumors circulated that Maryssa was next in line for the rank of Maghai, joining the Circle of Five, but Meristal never found anything to substantiate the tale.
Wherever work beckoned Meristal, the Master of Commerce, the Lord of Coffers, and the Steward of Disbursement followed in her wake, even when she attended council meetings. The exception was a closed session. The beautiful happenstance of the group came by way of their dislike for each other. While they didn¡¯t hate each other, they didn¡¯t get along, making it easier for them to focus on their jobs and keep each other in check. Meristal didn¡¯t need a clique forming within her newly appointed billets.
Master Jynerul Reginald Tyku fidgeted, his walrus mustache rippling across his upper lip. All the men in the room were jyneruls; the highest position within the army rested solely on Tyku¡¯s shoulders. At the War Council, all opinions were considered equal regardless of rank. Meristal¡¯s entourage removed parchment, ink, and quills to take notes. Meristal quickly made introductions and then started the meeting in earnest.
¡°Where do we stand, gentlemen?¡±
Tyku took charge of the discussion. ¡°Consul, our current count puts the standing Army at fifty thousand strong.¡±
¡°So little?¡± Meristal blurted, concern crossing her face.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.
¡°No, Madam Consul, that is standard. Those are the men employed as a career. We have an additional one hundred and fifty thousand scabs in our service.¡±
¡°Scabs?¡± inquired Maryssa.
Master Jynerul Tyku cleared his throat. ¡°Forgive me; scabs is a slang term. Conscripts is what I meant. Our standing count is two hundred thousand strong, with over eighty-five percent housed within Ralloc or the surrounding area. Very few are currently deployed afar, except the ten percent taking barracks in the Golden City.¡±
¡°Why is there ten percent in Golden City?¡± the consul queried.
Jynerul Vikal leaned forward to answer. ¡°As per orders of Kayis Dathyr, a standing portion is sent to the Golden City as a workforce for the canal.¡±
¡°You mean to tell me that we are using our army as common labor?¡± Wes gasped. ¡°That¡¯s a waste of manpower.¡±
¡°We don¡¯t disagree, but when we receive orders¡¡± Vikal began, rolling his eyes.
¡°I see.¡± Meristal lingered in silence for a moment, collecting her thoughts. ¡°Recall them, effective immediately. Tell them to pack up and be ready to mobilize within seventy-two hours.¡±
¡°At once, Madam Consul,¡± Reginald Tyku spoke, a tight smile coming to the corners of his mouth. He looked down at a herald, snapped his fingers and pointed to the door. The messenger leaped from his seat and left with a haste Meristal could only describe as fleeing in terror. ¡°Where would you like them to march?¡±
¡°March? They aren¡¯t marching anywhere. Portal Masters are going to port them straight to Cape Gythmel.¡±
¡°That would be expensive,¡± Wes offered.
¡°How so?¡±
¡°Portals cost money to use, a tenth of the army is twenty thousand men, the costs ¡ ¡± he paused, sliding through leafs of parchment, ¡° ¡ is two thousand scepters per use for up to ten people. With twenty thousand soldiers ¡.¡± He went silent to do the math in his head.
¡°Son,¡± Reginald Tyku spoke, ¡°you need to calm down before you pass out. That was ten percent of our standing numbers, not including the sca¡ª uh, conscripts. So, it¡¯s only five thousand personnel.¡±
¡°Still!¡± Wes shrieked.
¡°Still nothing,¡± Meristal spoke up. ¡°The cost is what we say it is. The cost of two thousand scepters is for families and businesses. The portal masters are employed by the government; we supply the materials needed, and we pay ridiculous amounts of money to create them. Last I heard, our stock of portal stones flows in overabundance. I think it is time to break open the storeroom and use a few.¡±
¡°But the materials for the stones isn¡¯t free,¡± Wes interjected.
¡°Then I will gladly pay it from the vault,¡± Maryssa supplied. Wes said nothing to this but sat, sweating. Meristal snorted to herself, amused, watching him as he undoubtedly counted the dwindling money in his mind.
¡°That could work,¡± Meristal nodded in agreement. ¡°We¡¯ll reimburse the cost of the materials so they can create more. Otherwise, they will use their services for the Grand Royal Army. How long until we are mobile in Ralloc?¡±
Tyku answered, ¡°To mobilize all personnel will take time, but the smaller units can mobilize quicker than the larger ones. Also, I do not recommend mobilizing everyone; that would leave Ralloc defenseless.¡±
¡°Agreed.¡±
¡°Also, if I may be bold without being impudent,¡± Jynerul Mecas spoke up for the first time. ¡°I recommend we also send a large force to Dlad City to begin bolstering its defenses for the inevitable attack.¡±
¡°That is not certain,¡± Vikal disagreed.
¡°We must be prepared for the event, even if it is unlikely,¡± Mecas countered.
¡°That would waste time and supplies¡ª¡±
¡°Silence,¡± Tyku commanded. He turned to Meristal. ¡°What is your wish?¡±
She sent him a warm smile. ¡°I like you already, Master Jynerul. Half of our forces will stay here. We will send battlemages from the Aegis Caste to help the soldiers rush to complete the wall. I would like to send a quarter of our forces to Dlad City and the last quarter on to Cape Gythmel to help fortify the defenses there.¡±
¡°It will be done as you say,¡± Tyku vowed.
¡°Unless, of course, you have objections or suggestions?¡± she scanned the jyneruls. Most shifted uncomfortably in their seats but remained quiet. She continued. ¡°As I am sure that you are no doubt aware, I am not Kayis Dathyr. I am quite comfortable in my abilities, and not easily threatened, nor will you hurt my feelings if you possess ideas of your own.¡± Finding them still tightlipped, she sighed. ¡°If I have thoughtless officers, then I think I will need a new War Council by tomorrow.¡±
Her words loosened tongues.
They talked strategy and the strategic importance of Cape Gythmel, and most of them thought they were wasting time, energy, and men on a useless outpost that had no real value. When Meristal explained to them Judas¡¯s reasoning for wanting it fortified, they agreed to the proper assessment. Of course, Meristal carefully avoided pointing out that the idea originated from Judas. Losing faith with the men leading their army didn¡¯t seem like a prudent course of action; she didn¡¯t need them doubting her intentions or clarity of mind. The opposite could prove true. Most of them had fought in the Wizard¡¯s War along with Judas, so they fostered a quiet respect for him, but it was a coin toss she wasn¡¯t willing to take at the moment.
A few hours later, the jyneruls left their meeting jovial, and Meristal smiled, her stress reduced.
Wes Bevyl, the Lord of Coffers, looked like he was about to have a stroke.
Chapter 66: Cape Gythmel
From early morning to late at night, axes cleaved wood, hammers drove nails, pickaxes smote stone, and felled trees echoed through Cape Gythmel. Through sun, rain, and the occasional bizarre snow flurries lasting mere heartbeats, the Krey and A¡¯uri labored to ready the defenses. Logs were dragged from the woods and stripped, cut to build structures, carved to erect traps, and cleaved to construct defenses. Xenomene¡¯s favorite was honing sharp ends in spears, burying the blunt ends in the ground for a charging horde to impale themselves. Drumstick asked her why and she replied that blood was pretty. He gave a nervous titter and shuffled off, steering clear of her for more than a week.
Lord Yeates visited them every day, sometimes to bring supplies or just to chat, giving advice when asked. From overhearing him talk with Raven and the Mind, Xenomene deduced he was a retired kernoyl of Grand Royal Army, a veteran of the Wizard¡¯s War, and a feared combat tactician proficient in hand combat. During his last campaign, he had been hit so many times with arrows and blades that his clothing fell off in tattered chunks, but not one blade lacerated his flesh, nor an arrow pierced his armor. With an idle chuckle, he confirmed he still had his cloak from the engagement, framed in his house with rips and all. Some whispered his story, claiming he was touched by the gods. Xeno¡¯s typical response would be to smirk, but the fact he wasn¡¯t injured gave her pause, considering the possibility.
Lem supplied canvas for tents, oats, flour, beans, salted meats, and fresh vegetables. He also provided tools: hammers, nails, rope, shovels, saws, chisel, and more. Each day, the Black Tide slaved away, repairing old establishments and creating new defenses and buildings. They Krey were still at work when a portal opened at the north end of town. Hammers stopped driving nails. Saws ceased in mid-stroke. The eyes of the Krey turned to the invading blue mass, a sea of soldiers spilling out of the opening. Tools dropped to the ground with muted thuds, forgotten. Hands itched to draw steel.
The soldiers poured out in droves, more bodies than the Krey were accustomed to seeing at once. More portals opened in the distance, further away from the small town. Xenomene felt decisively naked without her armor. After spending so long in her armor, force marching to the Cape, it had become a part of her.
Collectively, a feeling of claustrophobia crawled up the Black Tide¡¯s spine. Xenomene sensed the slight tingling sensation as the Mind cast his hold over the group. She could hear their collective breathing through the meld, and though some stood more than one hundred meters apart, their breathing synchronized, slowed. Calm washed through the meld. Xeno narrowed her eyes against the suns¡¯ glare as horses with officers riding atop emerged. Wagons rolled through, the clanging of plate and mail ringing into the once peaceful settlement.
To the left of the portal, another three opened as more bodies, horses, and wagons crawled through the blue, circular opening. Soon, the sounds became thunderous as the number of soldiers multiplied, doubling every few moments. When the last had come through, the portals closed, the bright blue luminance died away, leaving the Krey¡¯s eyes scrambling to adjust.
The officer whom Xeno could only assume was in charge trotted towards the Krey with one officer trailing behind him, clearly the subordinate. Raven, Xeno, and the Mind stepped forward to greet him. Xeno glanced up to his black slits for eyes, his pointy mustache turning gray with an accompanying and equally pointy beard, the sides of his face shaved clean.
If any man is to be the poster child for the aristocrat class, he fits the bill, the sour thought manifested.
He lifted his right hand to show he held no weapons. ¡°Greetings, I am Kernoyl Runsel of House Korlin, this is my second, Kaptyn Dillon of House Tyku.¡± The kernoyl gave a weak smile, unsure of how to proceed with the Krey. Chances were, he never fought in the Wizard¡¯s War, so dealing with Krey in the mix was a novelty. After a moment of hesitation, he snapped his fingers and held his hand towards his subordinate who produced a scroll with the Royal seal. ¡°These are my orders as well as yours. I am taking charge of the fortifications of Cape Gythmel,¡± he asserted, his voice clear and strident. His eyes surveyed the less-than-a-week progress the Krey had made. ¡°You haven¡¯t done much, have you?¡± he chuckled.
¡°There are only twelve of us,¡± the Do-don pointed out.
The kernoyl sighed, ¡°Very well, I am also here to take charge of your squad.¡±
¡°Like hell, you will!¡± Xenomene snapped.
The kernoyl leaned forward in his saddle looking at Xeno before lifting his hand up. Behind him, archers drew back on their long bows, arrows knocked. He looked at Xeno, ¡°I have but to drop my hand and a volley of arrows would make you into a sewing cushion,¡± he smiled gaily.
¡°You would lose your hand before it fell,¡± Xenomene warned.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
¡°As well as your head,¡± Raven added.
¡°The arrows would never reach us,¡± the Mind interjected.
A bead of sweat trickled from his brow either due to the heat or his predicament. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t survive,¡± he growled.
¡°How many men did you bring with you, Kernoyl Korlin?¡± the Do-don queried.
¡°What you see are my soldiers, five thousand strong from the Ralloc,¡± he boasted.
¡°You know what I see?¡± Xeno spoke up. ¡°I see five thousand dead bodies.¡± A gust of wind blew Xenomene¡¯s dark red hair in her eyes and she brushed it away. The kernoyl sighed and eyed his archers before waving them off.
¡°Have it your way,¡± the officer said. He stared at their tents. ¡°You will need to move your camp further out. I don¡¯t want you mixing with my soldiers, they are wary enough of you. To have you in their midst would make them jittery, fights would ensue, and your bloodlust would kill my men before the war even starts.¡±
¡°A wise choice, Kernoyl,¡± the Mind¡¯s cultured voice soothed before the two Krey could protest. ¡°We¡¯ll move at once.¡± The pair were wise enough to keep silent, letting the Mind¡¯s more educated tongue speak for them. He didn¡¯t fight the bloodlust, he controlled it and them. The kernoyl turned his horse and retreated quickly; the kaptyn waited a moment, smiling an apology at them, and he too, turned and left. Once out of range, Raven rounded on the Mind.
¡°What in the Underworld do you think you are doing, allowing him to dictate to us? You forget your place, Mind!¡±
¡°I am doing our mandate,¡± the battlemage reminded him. ¡°Whether we like it or not, we do fall under the command of the Grand Royal Army, even if they are pompous. It is you who forgets. He was by far in the right when he told us to fall under his command. We are too far removed from Ralloc for too long to remember our oaths, whom we serve, and those who command us. Since Xenomene lacks the ability to think before speaking, I seized the opportunity to smooth tensions between our factions.¡±
Raven scowled, but said nothing; Xeno knew the Mind was right. ¡°You heard the man,¡± the Do-don quipped to Xenomene. ¡°Move our camp back.¡±
¡°Me?¡± she scoffed.
¡°Yes, for your lack of thinking before speaking.¡±
In her ire, Xenomene had the camp torn down and moved back an additional two hundred meters within a half hour. By then, the army had fanned out and began setting up their tents. When it became obvious they would need to move again, she gave the order to pull up tent stakes. By then, Lord Yeates had arrived and offered them the use of his land to the east of town.
¡°Are you sure, my lord?¡± the Mind prodded.
¡°Oh yes, it¡¯s a field for planting crops but I didn¡¯t this year. I was too tired and getting up there in years, not as young as I once was.¡±
¡°As you say,¡± the Mind responded.
Xenomene gave the order to move again. This time, they skirted to the north, and set up camp in the Lord Yeates¡¯ field. As Praema began to set, the kaptyn returned on his horse.
¡°Forgive the intrusion,¡± he said by way of greeting. ¡°I was ordered to inform you that your help with fortifications is no longer required.¡±
¡°It was expected,¡± Raven muttered.
¡°Also, unofficially, I would like to apologize for our less than courteous arrival. The kernoyl has never been one with manners.¡±
¡°Don¡¯t make excuses for him,¡± Bitcher called out. ¡°It¡¯s not your fault that cunt has a broadsword so far down his throat he shits steel.¡±
The Do-don gave Bitcher a withering glance before turning back to the kaptyn, cocking his head to his side. He pointed to the saddle. ¡°Are you using your riding crop, Kaptyn?¡±
The officer frowned and then glanced down, checking if he had one. He smiled, abashed. ¡°It is decoration, I¡¯ve never used it.¡±
¡°But it works?¡±
¡°Yes.¡±
¡°May I use it?¡± Raven dared. Kaptyn Tyku gave him a doubtful expression but shrugged, tossing it to him. The Do-don turned it over in his hands before lobbing it to Xeno, who maliciously smiled.
¡°Bitcher?¡±
Raven nodded. ¡°Bitcher. Haze him.¡±
Xenomene¡¯s smile spread as she tested the durability in her hands. She left in a storm and descended upon Bitcher like a tidal wave before rushing him off to an obscured location. Screaming threats and rude comments ripped through the air. ¡°I will make you cry like a little bitch,¡± and ¡°we¡¯ll get dirt up your foul gash,¡± and ¡°the pain won¡¯t stop until I orgasm, you cock-less fuck!¡±
¡°Bitch! That fucking hurts! You wouldn¡¯t be such a bitch if you would listen to me and don¡¯t cinch your tit-strap so tight!¡±
Raven choked on a cough as the screaming faded. ¡°And I must apologize for the rudeness of my man.¡±
The kaptyn chuckled. ¡°Gods and Homugons, I miss the old days.¡± He turned his horse and left.
Bitcher¡¯s screams didn¡¯t end until well into the night.
Much to Xeno¡¯s dismay, no matter how much she punished him, she never reached her orgasm.