Magister Lias, meanwhile, went outside to inspect the outer portion of the ship.
While we found no more survivors, we did manage to get a better look at the gaping burns on the hull, which we’d only seen from a great distance before. The patterns of the burns were curious. They didn’t come from cannon fire, as we’d first assumed. Rather, it was as if the ship had been lit on fire, and the wooden hull had rapidly burned away.
Magister Annora was particularly interested in this, and took a sample of a thick, greenish residue found on the edges of the hull breach for later study. Using the blade of a pocket knife, she scraped it into a clear glass vial and held it up to the moonlight.
“Viscous,” she mused, then wafted some to smell, “and it’s got a chemical smell, like burning rubber.”
“Any idea what it is?” I asked, careful not to touch any of the residue with my bare skin.
Annora shrugged. “Some type of an accelerant would be my guess. Launched at the hull, perhaps. I can’t be completely sure, but it seems likely. Let’s find Lias, he might see something we’re missing. Applied alchemy is his specialty.”
We made our way down the tilted ship, back toward our makeshift entrance. As we descended, I felt confident enough to ask Annora a few questions. Partially because we were alone, and partially because the whole ordeal with the wounded man was still gnawing at my mind. I needed a distraction.
“Magister Lias… he doesn’t seem particularly kind to you,” I said carefully.
Annora glanced my way, and her expression seemed to indicate that she knew exactly what I was doing. But she simply shrugged. “He can be a bit hard to deal with at times, but he wants what’s best for me. He and I were partners during our final trial to become magisters.”
“Ah, so there’s history.”
She smiled weakly. “You could say that. We sort of… dated for a while, back when we were artificers.”
I wore my surprise plain on my face. “I see.”
She laughed. “So hard to believe?”
“A bit, yes.”
“That’s fair. But he’s not always so stiff and serious. And to his credit, even after I ended things, he never seemed to hold it against me, or be aggressive toward my later boyfriends… or girlfriends, for that matter. And he’s always there when I need him.”
Now, I realize up until this point I have described Magister Annora in very basic terms. Thin. Short. Bright-eyed. Let me take this moment to be a bit clearer: Annora was beautiful. Gorgeous, actually. With smooth, tanned skin and hair that held a glossy, healthy shine. It wasn’t just her looks that I found attractive, either. Her entire presence brought a candle of light to that dark place. Had it not been for her presence, I’m not sure I could’ve stood being there for much longer.
I found myself staring at her, and when she looked my way, I quickly tried to divert her attention with more questions.
“Your arm,” I said hastily. “How does that work, exactly?”
She glanced at the magistry runes on her bare arm. “That’s a big question. Essentially, the runes control the flow of templar—that’s magical energy to you. Each of the lines are like pipes for templuric energy, and the runes sync the energy to the nerves and muscles in my arm.”
“I was in Endra Edûn for a long time and I never saw any other magister with runes on their skin like that.”
“Runes on the skin isn’t that out of the ordinary for a high-level magister. Though it’s true that this is much more extensive work. It took me over six months to finish, and even now I still have problems with it. It’s not quite finished.” She rubbed her shoulder. “Lias was right, lifting that cannon was stupid. I could’ve broken my arm.”
“Why have runes on your skin like that?”
“Having the runes as a part of my body has a lot of advantages. For one, I don’t need to draw them, they’re always around. It’s also much more efficient and powerful than augmenting one’s strength without any sort of amplification runes at all. It makes me three to four times as strong as I could be without it. The drawback is that the runes constantly try to pull templar from my body. I have to actively work against it.”
“That sounds taxing.”
She nodded. “A bit, but you get used to it. You know, when I was first recruited into to the Magisterium, my mother would always tell me, ‘Anna, it’s a dangerous thing you’re doing. I love you, dear, but you’re just not strong enough to do what those magisters do.’”
“What a horrible thing to say.”
“She wasn’t exactly wrong,” Annora said meekly. “I had the most difficult time my early years. I had to take my first trial several times, and even then only eked past at the last minute. I augmented my arm to try to bridge the gap between me and my peers. It’s helped, but I can still feel the valley of difference between me and, say, Magister Lias.”
“I think you’re stronger than you give yourself credit for,” I said.
She raised one eyebrow. “And I think you’re very sweet, and very wrong. But that’s okay, I like hearing it. Tell me more about how awesome I am, I’m all ears.”
“Well… you did lift that cannon and saved that man’s life.”
She clutched the fabric of my shirt excitedly. “I know! Wasn’t it awesome?”
I laughed aloud at her general silly, lighthearted demeanor. It was a welcome contrast to the dank, dark ship around us. We were nearing the opening in the Trinitus’ hull, and I could see the moonlit foliage a few yards away.
“You’re not at all what I expected in a magister,” I said.
“In what way?”
“You’re… so normal. Different, but normal. If that makes any sense.”
“It doesn’t really, but I think I understand you anyway. You’d be surprised if you met some of the magisters I know. At the end of the day, we’re all just people. Dedicated people, professionals even, but people nonetheless—”
Suddenly, Annora stopped dead in her tracks. Before I could ask her what was going on, she held up her hand to silence me, and listened to the air for a long moment. Something seemed to frighten her, and she yanked me away from the hull opening only a few yards in front of us.
She pulled me into a dark crevice of the ship, pressed herself very close to me, and put her hand over my mouth.
“Whisper,” she said quietly. When I nodded, she let my mouth go.
“What’s wrong?” I said quietly.
“I heard something.”
“It’s probably just Lias—”
“No. Something’s not right. We need to be quiet, slow, and careful.” She pulled away from me, and inched toward the opening in the hull. She peeked outside, and didn’t seem to immediately spot anything. I followed behind her, and looked around the edge myself.
There was nothing out there but fog and thick jungle trees.
“Maybe you were hearing things?” I said.
“No,” she insisted. “We need to find Lias right now. Something’s wrong.” She motioned to run out into the mist, but I grabbed her shoulder at the last minute.
“What are you doing? If there’s something out there, we shouldn’t split up.”
“Stay here,” she ordered. “Don’t move, you’ll just be in the way.”
Her tone was so severe that I didn’t bother arguing. She ran out by herself, and all I could do was watch as she disappeared into the mist. A long few minutes passed, and I began to feel anxiety deep in my stomach. I drew my sword, holding it awkwardly toward the hull opening. Was something really out there? Should I try to help Annora despite what she’d said?
In the end, I didn’t really get the choice. I soon saw Magister Lias walking toward me right through the drifting mist. Never before I had been so relieved, and I almost threw my sword aside as I ran out to meet him.
“Gods below, it’s good to see you,” I said, panting and wiping the sweat away from my forehead with my sleeve.
I noticed that Lias was walking a bit strangely. Perhaps he’d b
een injured?
“Annora went out to look for you. She went that way.” I pointed in the appropriate direction. “If we hurry, maybe we can catch up with her.”
Instead of an answer, Lias just mumbled to himself, and I noticed his eyes were closed as he shambled toward me. Something was dreadfully wrong, I just didn’t know precisely what. I took several steps back toward the Trinitus.
“Magister Lias? Can you hear me?” I said, nearly shouting.
He continued to move toward me, his body moving and shaking in an unnatural way. For the first time, he spoke—but it was no human language, certainly not Amínnic.
“Sgn’ghu mnahn uln. Sgn’wahl ezunm uln. Cch’throd sll’ha li’ee f'hro.”
Just hearing this language grated at my ears, and caused my head to ache. It filled my senses, and when I reached up to my face, I felt blood trickling from my nose. Though the language sounded like nonsense to my ears, something inside me could understand it. I can’t explain this any better—it was as if I could hear the words in my mind, translated by some loud, monstrous voice that made me cover my ears in vain.
This is what he said:
“The city is open. The end has come. Come and receive his gift.”
I held my sword between us. It shook in the air as my hands trembled. The blade didn’t seem to worry Lias, who continued forward, now only eight paces away. Though he was still only faintly visible in the moonlight, now that he was closer, I could actually see him in his full, grotesque glory.
There wasn’t much left of the man. Oh, it was certainly his body, there was no doubt about that. But it was almost as if his corpse had been hollowed out, and filled with writhing worms. Tendrils sprouted out from cracks in his skin, and his jaw hung open, sprouting unnatural, fleshy stalks with eyes and maws on the ends.
He was something out of a nightmare. There was nothing human left of him.
I’d be lying if I said I charged at him swinging. No. Although my terror locked my legs for a while, the moment I found the strength, I ran. Oh, gods below, did I run. I ran until my lungs felt like they’d explode. I ran until my feet ached. I ran until I had no idea where I was.
While I was stumbling through a cluster of thick roots sprouting from enormous trees, I heard Magister Annora’s voice nearby. I paused, holding on to the trunk of a nearby tree, trying to hear her again. Soon, she called. She couldn’t have been very far at all, and I ran in the direction of her voice.
It wasn’t long before I found her. She was in a small clearing, her rune-covered arm cut and bloody. She wasn’t alone, either. Standing opposite her were four hooded figures, each of them wearing long, black cloaks with red hems. Aside from bleeding profusely, Annora was sweating and panting, and seemed to have been in the fight of her life just moments earlier. None of them seemed to notice my presence.
One of the hooded men spoke. Taller than the others by a head, and I could see two smoldering, red eyes peering out. “You’ve come to the wrong place, magister. The Arclight cannot save you here.”
“What have you done with Lias?” Annora snarled, clenching her bloodied fist.
As if in response to this statement, one of the men extended their arms, and I saw ink-black tendrils pour out of their skin. They moved toward Annora with deliberate purpose, and before she could back away, they grabbed hold of her right ankle.
“The Deep Gods deemed him worthy. We’ll see if you’re as fortunate as he. Come, magister, and receive your gift,” one of the dark voices said.
The tendril yanked at her foot and pulled her to the ground. Without thinking, I ran between them, my sword drawn, and brought the blade down hard. The tendril snapped as I sliced it, and the man attached to it screeched like a wild animal.
The piece attached to Annora’s ankle evaporated, and I pulled her to her feet.
“Are you okay?” I said, my hands on her cheek and uninjured shoulder.
“I told you to stay put!” she said angrily.
“You can yell at me later,” I said. “Who are these people?”
The four men spoke amongst themselves:
“Another Celosan,” one said, sounding like a hissing snake.
“They’re like rats, aren’t they?” another said.
“Another offering for the High Priest?”
“No, his soul is impure. Kill him and be done with it.”
The one I’d cut approached me, and lowered his hood. He was, in a word, monstrous. His skin was as pale as death, and where his left eye should’ve been were black recesses. As with Lias, there were tendrils wriggling from his body, but he seemed to be much more in control of his mental faculties than Lias had been.
The man drew a sword, and I saw the tendrils on his mangled hand wrap around the hilt of the blade, and slime dripping down the metal. He came at me full charge, barely giving me time to react. I quickly blocked the first blow, and the second. Annora grabbed hold of him momentarily, but he pushed her aside with little effort.
Her rune-covered arm had apparently been so damaged, she couldn’t use it anymore.
It didn’t take long for my opponent to grab hold of my swinging arm and shake the sword from my grasp. He pulled so hard, I thought he’d broken my wrist. I cried out in pain, and dropped to my knees.
His tendrils began to slither onto my body, despite my struggles. I tried with all my strength to pull free, but was completely overpowered.
“P-Please,” I begged as he pulled me closer to him. “Don’t…”
The man took his free hand, and used it to tilt my face up toward his. His fingers were ice cold, and he regarded me for a moment before speaking in a soft, patient tone.
“Your sacrifice will not be in vain. The hunger of the Deep Gods must be sated. Rejoice that you’ve been chosen, for your life has been given purpose.”
He moved to strike me, and I braced myself for the blow.
However, the blow never came. There was a brief flash of red light, and when I looked up, I was kneeling several yards away from where I was. Annora and the hooded men were still present, looking down at the ground.
I was disoriented, and it took me several moments to realize that, somehow, I’d moved. I felt a gentle heat on my right hand, and saw that the Corelight fragment buried into my palm was pulsing. When I squeezed my palm, there was a red flash, and again I was in a different spot in the clearing. Now, I was ten yards in the opposite direction.
“What is this sorcery?” one of the men rasped.
While it was possible for me to escape, I couldn’t live with myself if I’d left Annora there to die, and I bolted toward her. She was in a state of shock, seeing that I’d just teleported.
“W-What…” she began. At that moment, one of the men grabbed her, wrapping his long tendrils around her neck. She choked, grabbing in vain at her neck.
“Clearly you’re a man of great power,” the man holding her said.
“But you seem to care for this one,” another hissed. “You can run, and leave her to die. Or you can come with us… our High Priest would very much like to meet you.”
The man tightened his grip on Annora. “Decide.”
I didn’t have much of a choice.
Chapter Twenty-four
Azror’jir, The Temple of the Mad God
THe next two hours were, perhaps, the most terrifying moments of my life up to that point. I was bound, gagged, and led through the jungle like an animal. The cloaked men incessantly pushed me forward, even after I’d scraped my ankles and legs to a bloody hash on the many roots and vines running across every inch of the jungle floor.
I could hear the muffled sounds of Magister Annora only a few paces ahead of me, and feared for what fate might befall her. My thoughts were my only companions along that trek, most of them dwelling on the Corelight fragment in my palm. Now that the rush of power and excitement was over, I began to think of it more analytically. Obviously it was the source of my instantaneous movement earlier, but it activated on pure instinct. I didn’t thi
nk I could’ve replicated it at that moment, and even if I had, it would’ve put Annora’s life in danger.
I had no real plan for escaping. Our best chance at surviving, or so I thought, was waiting for Commander Talthis to return and find us missing. Hopefully, he would then mount a rescue. However, that was contingent on two points: firstly, that the Endrans would be able to find us in the vast, sprawling wilderness that stretched around Lake Yaserj, and secondly, that the Endrans wouldn’t just presume us dead, count their losses, and continue on to Vor’aj.
The soft earth and jagged roots beneath my feet eventually gave way to a stone walkway, and I sensed we were nearing our destination. I heard unintelligible voices in the distance, and the hard sound iron makes when it scrapes against stone. We were being led inside of a structure of some sort; I heard doors opening, portcullises lifting, and the persistent sound of rushing water coming from several different directions.
At some point, Annora and I were separated, and I was thrown into a large cell. The bindings on my hands were cut, and I tore off my blindfold.
One of the cloaked men stood in the doorway, silhouetted by the reddish light of the hallway behind him.
The cell itself was quite unlike any I’d ever seen. It had only three walls, with the back completely missing. I moved closer to the opening, and peered over the edge. We were underground, in some sort of cavern overlooking a body of water that spanned the entire base. It was a fifty-yard drop to the water, which was churning and spinning like some sort of maelstrom. The rocks were peppered with quartz crystals, making the walls of the cave glimmer.
I turned back to my captor.
“What do you want with me?” I asked. I hated the way my voice sounded—weak and terrified.
“There are no prisoners here in Azror’jir,” the cloaked man said. He pointed one long, ghost-white finger at the back opening to the cell. “You’re free to leave your cell at any time. The Deep Gods always hunger, and to those driven mad through starvation or loneliness, they offer release. I pray that you will stay, however. High Priest Xalaxis is very interested in meeting you. In the meantime, I’m sure your cellmate will enjoy some company.”
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