by Terry Schott
“I’m pretty sure that’s irony.”
Sebastian laughed. “We are both extremely smart and powerful men, yet neither of us will ever be one hundred percent certain if something is irony. Sad.”
“I’d like to keep that a secret,” Isaac grinned.
“Same.”
They sat without speaking for a few seconds.
“Was that last part irony, then?” Isaac asked.
Sebastian laughed loudly and shook his head.
Isaac grinned. “It’s good to see you again, pal.”
“Same here.”
Isaac slapped his friend’s knee. “Cheer up. Maybe you’ll get lucky and your power will kick in again, before things are over.”
“Fingers crossed, old buddy.”
“Damn straight.”
Chapter 49
After four days on the road, the group had fallen into a comfortable routine. The warriors woke before sunrise, breaking their fast with dried trail mix as they moved off to perform their morning exercises and drills. Since they were following the river, the men bathed after completing training, and Mercy went after they returned to camp. Kieran enjoyed cooking breakfast, which was ready after all had finished with their morning rituals. Everyone helped clean up, and then the group broke camp and were travelling no more than two hours after the sun had risen.
The routine of the fifth morning—the morning after Xander’s meeting with the Lord of Light—went a bit differently.
Xander came to the river’s edge and sat. Firth and Helias were already waist deep in the water, their backs to the Death Stryker as they washed.
Firth noticed Xander sitting on the riverbank. “Aren’t you coming in?”
“Cooling off a bit, first,” Xander replied.
A few minutes passed and Firth frowned. He said something to Helias that Xander couldn’t hear over the rush of the current. Helias looked over his shoulder and frowned. “What’s the matter, Xander?”
“Nothing.”
“Then get in and wash off. Mercy will not be pleased if we make her wait for her morning bath. I think it’s one of the few things she looks forward to while on the road with us.”
Xander laughed but did not reply. Helias watched him for a few seconds, then shrugged and returned to his task. Xander’s eyes widened a few minutes later when the paladin and his squire turned and started walking towards the bank.
A small cloud of blackness emanated from a spot on Helias’s chest, in exactly the same spot where light shone from Xander’s.
Helias saw the Death Stryker’s expression and laughed. He stepped onto the bank and reached for a towel. “Does my new mark surprise you?”
Xander raised his own shirt to reveal the gem of light. Helias’s grin widened, and he shook his head. “You met him?”
“Last night. You met her?”
“Indeed, I did.” He wrapped a second towel around his waist and slapped Xander on the back. “I almost couldn’t move, that’s how stunningly beautiful she is.”
“Yeah.”
“See you back at camp.” The two walked away and Xander began to remove his clothes.
***
When he returned to camp, Mercy was sitting on a log and watching him. The others were gathered around the fire.
“Let’s see it,” she said. Xander sighed and removed his shirt, watching her scowl as he revealed the blazing jewel in his chest.
“Isn’t it spectacular?” Helias was smiling.
“Yours is spectacular.”
Helias laughed.
Her lips pursed as she stared at the mark on Xander’s chest. “This one is disgusting.” She considered him for another long moment and then shook her head. “The best word to describe each of them is misplaced. It seems as if the gods are having some fun with you boys and putting powerful artifacts into the wrong bodies.” She turned away. “Cover that up.”
Xander began to pull his shirt back on.
“Why don’t you make a shirt from the grasp like you usually do?” Helias asked.
Xander laughed and a thin layer of midnight crept over his torso to form a shirt. As the liquid darkness got close to the gem in his chest, it stopped moving. The result was a shirt with a perfectly round hole, an inch away from the gem on all sides. “This is why.”
“I like it,” Firth said.
“Aye,” Helias nodded. “The light contrasts nice with the surrounding black.”
“This is not a fashion show,” Mercy snapped.
Xander put the shirt on, and the midnight flowed back to his arms.
“We must figure out how to remove them,” Mercy said. “Perhaps a priest will be able to assist.”
“No.”
All heads turned toward Kieran. His eyes were on the cast-iron frying pan as he turned a piece of crispy bacon. “Everything is as it should be.”
“That can’t be true,” Mercy said. “Surely even you can see—”
“The gems designate their approval.” He glanced at the warriors and then back to the pan. “Each god has met both of the candidates and deemed them each acceptable.”
“For what?” She asked.
“The fusion.”
Mercy sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “Again with the fusion.”
“That’s right.” Kieran flipped another piece of bacon with his knife.
“The lore mentions nothing of this ceremony or alliance. For thousands of years, Light and Dark have remained separate.”
“There is lore.”
“Seventy years and younger.” She scoffed. “History which the living can still remember is not considered to be lore. And this entire experiment was started by the Scouts. It is not sanctioned by the orders.”
Kieran grinned. “It is by your gods, though.”
Mercy scowled as she snatched her towels from the ground and stood. “It’s been attempted multiple times and has never worked.”
“It works,” Kieran said. “It just doesn’t seem to last for long.”
Xander frowned. “What do you mean by that?”
“He means that the fused eventually go mad and kill each other.”
Helias frowned. “I’ve read about the process and seen no mention of that.”
Mercy snorted and began to walk away. “Because the Scouts leave that part out of the written accounts. I’m going to bathe.” The three fighters watched her storm off.
Helias looked at Xander and raised one eyebrow. “Sounds a bit risky.”
“The two of you will be fine.” Kieran removed the pan from the fire. “We’ve learned a lot from past trials. There’s nothing to worry about.”
“Nothing?” Helias asked.
“Well,” Kieran grinned, “very little. Which is almost the same as nothing. Now, who’s hungry?”
Chapter 50
Sebastian looked up as the bell attached to the door rang. He smiled and waited for Bramell to join him.
“Found ya.” Bramell threw one leg over the chair—an impressive feat for a dwarf—and sat.
“I wasn’t hiding.”
“I know, you’re busy.”
“Lots to do. You know, with an army marching towards us and all.”
Bramell smiled. “Did you give Aleron the stone?”
“I did. He was beyond thankful.”
“I’m glad to hear that. It should help.”
“I’m positive that it will.”
Bramell ran one hand through his hair. “The first batch of players that he levelled came to me with an idea. Thought I’d run it by you.”
“Why?”
“’Cause you’re pretty much in charge now.”
“I didn’t ask to be.” Bramell shrugged and Sebastian sighed. “Fire away.”
“They are feeling powerful and want to try out their new abilities.”
“How many of them?”
“Fifty. They’ve asked for permission to head out.”
“On an adventure campaign?”
“No. They want to interce
pt the army and harry it along the way.”
Sebastian laughed.
“Don’t like the idea?”
“The word, harry. It always makes me laugh when used that way.”
“It works. Means to attack and harass enemy forces.”
“I know what it means. When I hear it used like that I always wonder, how did it become a man’s name? And why don’t we think of that meaning when we meet a man named Harry? Hi, this is a guy who is going to attack and harass you every chance he gets.” He chuckled.
Bramell laughed. “I see what you mean. It is pretty funny.”
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to take you off-topic.”
Bramell laughed again and shook his head. “No problem. What do you think of the idea?”
Sebastian nodded. “I like it.”
“Tell them to go ahead with it, then?”
“Sure, but encourage them to get killed.”
A burst of laughter escaped from Bramell. He shook his head. “What kind of force are we? Let’s go to war and wipe the enemy out…and let’s make sure we all remember to die, too.”
Sebastian laughed. “Imagine any other army with such a mindset?”
“It makes sense.” Bramell’s smile faded. “We don’t want any of these kids dying back home.”
“I’ve heard some say they wouldn’t mind if that happened. If they were stuck here for the rest of their lives instead.”
Bramell raised an eyebrow. “Can’t say as I blame ’em. I prefer this reality to the other, hands down.” He considered Sebastian. “Any idea how many permanent log-ins are here with us?”
Sebastian shook his head. “I only know about myself and Aleron.”
Bramell’s eyes widened. “The kid chose permanent log-in?”
“No, but something must have happened to his body along the way. We were in the middle of Dryad’s Heart when it happened.”
“How did he handle it?” Sebastian raised one eyebrow, and Bramell shook his head. “He doesn’t know?”
“Don’t think so.”
“Shouldn’t he?”
Sebastian shrugged. “Maybe.”
“I think he deserves to.”
“Maybe.” Sebastian shrugged. “Speaking from the other side of the argument, as one who does know about my situation, I think the kid might be better off in the dark.”
“But, isn’t it one of those certainties we all have? Part of being human?”
Sebastian scowled. “What are you talking about?”
“In our real bodies. We know that when we die, that’s it.”
The older man laughed. “Maybe that’s your belief, but there are a few billion others who feel otherwise. And no matter what any of them think, not a single person actually knows.” He shook his head. “It’s not the kind of knowledge that brings any peace or comfort.”
“You say that as if you do know.”
“I’m likely one of the very few who does.”
“How can you say that? Sure, you have no body to return to, but maybe when you die here you simply go where the rest of us are all headed.”
Sebastian laughed. “How did this turn into a discussion about faith and the afterlife?”
Bramell winked. “It has nothing to do with buying and selling, so it’s safe to say you brought it up.”
“Let’s not tell the kid for now.”
Bramell stood. “Fine by me.” He began to head for the front door. “I’ll let the group know that they can head out. They want to call themselves the Pitas, by the way.”
“Pain in the asses?” Sebastian laughed. “I like it.”
Bramell reached for the door.
“Hold on a sec.”
The dwarf paused.
“Find out how many permanent log-ins are here with us, will you?”
“Sure.”
“And let’s try and make some arrangements for them to get away from here safely before the army arrives. I’m sure once our main force is killed off, the few will be able to integrate themselves into society and live to ripe old ages.”
“I like the sounds of that.” Bramell nodded and opened the door.
Chapter 51
Lirana stepped through the portal, moved two steps forward, then turned to watch as Custodian Zecaras emerged from the greyish white cloud. He dismissed the gate with the flick of his hand, and they moved toward the edge of the hilltop. The stars twinkled in the night sky, and light from each of the almost full moons cast enough light for them to see the village at the bottom of the hill on which they stood. Neither spoke as they watched the streets of the village for movement.
Lirana saw her first and reached out to touch the high crafter’s arm. He turned and followed the line of her pointed finger. The godling was there, walking slowly toward the middle of the tiny settlement. Her dress caught the moonlight and reflected it, making it seem as if she gave off a faint light of her own.
A dog began to bark as she passed one house. A second later, the dog appeared from the shadows and closed the gap between them, only to be jerked backward as it reached the end of its chain a few feet short of its target. The godling continued walking without glancing at the animal. Other dogs began to bark, and soon lights started to appear through windows.
“Don’t go outside.” Lirana’s voice was so soft that Zecaras barely heard the words.
Doors opened and heads poked out. A man spotted the godling and shouted. She did not respond, and the man stepped from his doorway and began to follow her. More joined him as she continued to walk without acknowledging their presence. By the time the girl reached the village centre, a small crowd trailed in her wake.
Lirana gripped the Custodian’s arm. “You must do something.”
He shook his head.
“Custodian. You have an obligation to protect the innocent. Those people—”
“Are already dead.”
Lirana’s eyes widened. She stared at the man for a long moment. Her gaze returned to the village. With the flick of her hand and wiggle of her fingers, she crafted a spell to enable them to hear what was being said below.
The crowd stood and stared, no one speaking as they gathered in front of the godling as if waiting for a performance to begin.
“Go on then,” a man shouted. “Say what you’re about and let us get back to sleep.”
The girl’s head turned toward him. Lirana thought she could see the whiteness of the creature’s teeth as if it had smiled. The crafter held her breath as the godling raised both slim arms in front of her body and held them toward the crowd.
“Dear Lord,” she whispered.
The sky brightened as a volley of lightning bolts descended from the sky. In a single strike, every bystander was pierced through the skull by a jagged bolt. As the flash lit the sky, an ear-splitting BOOM sounded. The darkness returned like an ebony flash, the victims visible still, as the light that had filled them slowly leached from their bodies, fading like a dying lightbulb filament.
Lirana frowned. Instead of being scattered and thrown to the ground by the force that had struck them, the villagers were all still standing. She blinked rapidly to help her eyes adjust and saw that a thin tendril of blackness extended from each person, each strand weaving together and snaking into the godling’s outstretched fingers.
“What’s she doing?” Lirana asked.
As one, the villagers began to scream. It started as a low moan and rose in pitch until they were shrieking loud enough to fill the night air with the terrifying sound.
The godling threw back her head and laughed, the tiny noise somehow discernible amid the terrified cries. The black tendrils seemed to thicken as the raw shrieks of pain became more intense.
Suddenly, the godling threw her arms skyward. There was a loud puff and each villager exploded into a powdery cloud of darkness that began to drift to the ground like flakes of ash. Out of the calmness, a mighty gust of wind swirled around the ashes, gathering them into a single mass which then flew toward the godling. Her laug
hter, now the only sound present, continued as the cloud surrounded her and was sucked into her body. The laughter continued until the last bit of darkness was absorbed, and then it stopped, drowning the night in total silence.
Lirana was frozen in place, one hand covering her mouth, eyes wide. The godling lowered her arms and stood stock still. Seconds turned to minutes. She did not move, and neither did the crafters on the hilltop.
Finally, the godling ran a hand through her hair, turned toward the west, and began walking down the road.
They watched in complete silence, not daring to move as the tiny form disappeared from sight.
Lirana looked at the Custodian. His eyes were wide. “It has begun,” he said.
“What has?”
“The end. She will not stop until she has consumed us all.”
“Everything that is magic?”
He shook his head. “Everything that is.”
Lirana considered the implications of what the Custodian was saying. “What can we do?”
Tears began to flow down the crafter’s face as he shook his head slowly from side to side.
Chapter 52
It was late when the last strategy meeting ended and Sebastian was able to head toward his quarters to call it a night. He stepped onto the street and heard someone call his name. He turned to see Shale approaching.
“What are you still doing up?” she asked.
“I could ask you the same thing.”
“Yeah, but I’m not super-old, like you.”
He laughed. “This body is only forty-one.”
“Like I said. Super-old.”
He shook his head. “It’s much younger than my body in the real world.”
She giggled. “Next time you come into the game you should pick a younger one.”
“I’m sure I will.”
“Good.” She reached into her pocket and withdrew a letter. “A guy asked me to give you this.”
“What guy?”
Shale shrugged. “A player that just got into town for the first time today. I thought all the stragglers were here, but apparently a few more are trickling in.”
