“This is Ehrde, and you stand high over the heart of your Unsel.” Aerella was stern, angry.
“No!” Angst reached up to grip her arm, but his hand floated through her as though she were merely a cloud. He yanked his hand back in shock and fear, her presence—or lack of presence—too much to fathom. He turned away and looked around, desperate to find a landmark.
“Look closer, Angst. Look at the ground, look at the entrance behind us.”
He inspected the ground, and the weathered entrance behind them. Kicking dirt and rubble aside, Angst found he was not on the edge of a cliff but the ruins of a broken stone patio. What could have been planters, and several broken stone pedestals, had been thoughtfully placed around him. The pile he stood beside could have been a bench, and...
He looked up at Aerella. “The maidens’ courtyard?” Angst swallowed hard and licked dry lips. “I need to find them. Where are my friends? Where’s Heather? Aerella, where’s Tori?”
“They’re long dead and gone, Angst.” Aerella’s voice was heavy with sorrow.
“No...no, you’re lying.” Angst’s voice cracked and his eyes grew wet. “I don’t understand. Who did this? What did this?”
Aerella rested a small hand on his shoulder. “You did, Angst.”
“What?” he snapped, wiping blood and tears and confusion from his face. This wasn’t right. Angst felt detached—the words were his but seemed to come out on their own.
“This was wrought by your mistake, Angst. You cannot wield another. You don’t know the dangers that will be unleashed.”
Angst reached to his back instinctively, but Chryslaenor was still gone. He felt the empty place in his mind and found he held nothing. “I wield no weapons. No foci. I have nothing.”
“You did, and you couldn’t control them. Your egocentric, self-indulgent need for something more has led to two thousand years of disaster. This nightmare was wrought by you, Angst, and only you can make it right.”
Aerella was fading. Everything around him seemed to fade with her into fog and shadow.
“I don’t understand... I can’t even touch my foci.” Angst yelled. He felt as though he was being pulled away into a long dark cave of cool and reason.
“Don’t do it, Angst. Don’t wield another.” Aerella’s whisper chased him into the darkness.
He blinked his eyes rapidly to see his pretty friend with dark red hair and deep eyes looking over him. Angst reeled as pain from the nightmare faded, and the reality of the throne room returned. For the briefest of moments, he swore that a trickle of dark lightning flickered in Rose’s eye.
“Right now, I hate you,” she said sternly.
“You’re such a flirt, it’s embarrassing sometimes.” Angst sat up and looked around the throne room.
All was as he’d left it. The two men were gone, snow continued to fall gently from the ceiling, and Chryslaenor remained in place, still surrounded by black and blue lightning.
“Just a bad dream,” Angst muttered with relief.
Rose stared at him with a dumbfounded expression. Was she in pain from healing him or upset at him for passing out?
“Rose, thank you,” he said warmly, hoping to calm her. Her face didn’t change, and she continued to stare at him. “Are you okay?”
“You make me so angry sometimes, Angst.” Her hands were on her hips, and Angst couldn’t tell if she was going to yell or cry. She did both. “Do you ever bother to think about what you do? About the choices you make and how they affect everyone? You got lucky last time. Walk away...no, run away! You got to be a hero. Isn’t that enough? Stop now before you do something stupid!”
“Rose, what are you talking about?” Angst asked in complete astonishment. “I know that I shouldn’t have been in here, that touching the sword is bad, but everything is okay. I just had a bad dream, is all.”
“Then why did Aerella say it was your fault?” Rose asked.
3
“What in Ehrde were you doing in there anyway?” Hector asked, his bushy eyebrows frowning.
Angst sighed deeply, feeling his age. He didn’t want to talk about how much he missed Chryslaenor, how he longed for the bond, how much he missed being a hero. He could only admit to himself that it wasn’t just the bond, or the power, it was the looks he’d get carrying that beast of a sword on his back. It was fun.
He looked around the Wizard’s Revenge for some escape from Hector’s piercing gray eyes. In spite of the storm, the inn was busy and bustling. The room appeared brighter than Angst could ever remember it being, and a certain pride and levity seemed to carry conversations now. Defending Unsel against unstoppable foes had made magic-wielders more valuable. Change was happening, like the tide washing away footprints in the sand—he could only hope that change was for the better.
Angst was separated from his thoughts by a crowd of young, boisterous men surrounding a table by the fire. A parade of mugs and pitchers floated to the table only to be emptied as fast as they had arrived. Nearby patrons flashed the youth annoyed stares, but the party continued.
“Go easy, Hector. That doesn’t matter right now,” Dallow said, obviously trying to temper the situation and regain Angst’s attention.
“Enough of my drama... We really should be celebrating Dallow’s return,” Angst interjected, feeling somewhat guilty for ruining his friend’s homecoming. He poured another draft of port, one of many that night, and handed a goblet to Dallow. “Tell us about your trip.”
Dallow shook his head at Angst’s attempt to change the subject. Dallow’s long blond bangs hung carefully over squinting brown eyes that peered knowingly at him. “We have all night to talk about the Gressmore Ruins excavation,” Dallow answered. “So, you both saw the same thing?”
“Not exactly,” Rose said, glaring at the party-table with hate as though they were broaching her personal space. “I watched Angst speak with Aerella, who appeared as a ghost—it was creepy.”
“I thought Aerella died,” Tarness said in his deep voice. “After Ivan turned into the giant monster host of Magic, didn’t he suck her up into his hand...or something like that?”
“Yeah,” Angst said sadly. “She was with us such a short time after Gressmore, we barely got to know her.”
“Other than your make out session,” Rose taunted, sudden cheer around her large, dark eyes.
“It was a hug,” Angst said, his grin becoming mischievous. “A long, meaningful hug.”
Rose looked at Angst with her customary impatience, while he enjoyed the moment, taking in her prettiness. Rose was lean, yet curvy enough to make other women hate her, and the black leather bustier she wore accentuated this. Her long, dark red hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, the end dangling over her pale bare shoulder. Rose’s thin eyebrows narrowed, and her full lips pursed, warning Angst not to take in too much.
“Did you see anything else?” Dallow interrupted.
“I didn’t see the giant Vex’kvette, nor did I see any dragons.” She turned to stare down Angst. “Really, Angst, dragons? What next, flying pink unicorns?”
“They were wyrms, fire breathing and all,” Angst said. “I didn’t realize they were real, but now...I just don’t know.”
“We know dragons were real,” Tarness interjected, stopping his giant-tankard halfway to his mouth. “Didn’t we, at Gressmore...” He gripped the tankard and winced as he tried to remember.
“Best to forget that, Tarness,” Angst said, resting a hand on the large man’s shoulder. “Trying to remember what happened doesn’t seem to be healthy.”
Tarness nodded and shrugged, a deep draw of mead washing away the concern from his forehead. He towered over the others, easily a head taller and taking the width of two seats. Tarness’s skin was a thick coating of dark black over large muscles and unforgiving age. His heavy eyebrows made him seem angry, but a wink at Angst said otherwise.
“According to the history books from Gressmore Ruins, wyrms, er, dragons did exist,” Dallow said excitedly.
“I have hundreds of books to go through. It takes a long time—for some reason, I keep having to relearn Acratic every day before I can read them—but the history is amazing. We’ve lost so much understanding of magic.”
“I still don’t believe you went on an archaeology dig this time of year,” Rose said in annoyed disbelief.
“I needed to clear my head of things, is all.” Dallow stared into her large eyes for a moment long enough to make everyone else uncomfortable. “And I didn’t want the weather to do any more damage to those treasures.”
Rose nodded but looked away. Angst had wondered on their last adventure if their relationship was more than sharing a horse. Dallow’s marriage was the same mess as his, if not worse, but Rose was so much younger, it didn’t seem as though it could work.
“My team will go back in the spring—we need softer ground to really dig deep—but I found enough to keep me busy for a while. The books will reform history as we know it. Why I can’t believe...” Dallow’s green gaze flicked around the table, looking in vain for someone who was still interested. He sighed deeply and brushed bangs from his eyes.
Tarness, Hector, and Angst watched the pretty barmaid check on the party-table, practically endowing everyone in the room with her ample gifts.
“Does she look thinner?” Hector asked with a little concern.
“...and I found these.” Dallow dropped a handful of clear polished stones on the table.
“Rocks?” asked Tarness.
“Not just rocks,” Dallow said with excitement. “These rocks seem to have magic qualities. If you look into them, you’ll see little maps.”
“Memndus,” Angst remarked reflectively as he picked up one of the stones and stared at it thoughtfully.
“Memn... I don’t remember hearing that word. I don’t think.” Dallow squinted in concentration as he tried to recall. “I thought we might be able to use them. I found a dozen or so.”
Everyone else grabbed a souvenir from Dallow’s trip and thanked him. They all looked into their stones with awe before once again being distracted by the raucous noise. A young, thin blonde was now standing on top of the table and dancing to the clapping of hands and pounding of feet. They were youth having fun, and Angst smiled to himself as he watched.
“Ahem.” Graloon coughed to gather their attention. The portly barkeep stood behind them with a stern look on his face and his hands parked in the greasy apron that covered most of his ample belly.
Angst watched the young woman drop into the lap of a burly man, who seemed proud of his catch. He planted a deep kiss on the woman’s pouty lips.
“Something the matter, Graloon?” Angst asked mockingly. “You haven’t forgotten what it’s like to be young have you? What it’s like to dance?”
“Yes, yes I have,” Graloon replied with a grunt. “I don’t mind but, Angst, you’ll want to take a closer look at this crew.”
Angst looked around his own table in confusion, attempting to peer through the haze of drink. Dallow, Tarness, and Hector’s jaws rested on their chests. Rose appeared disgusted, and Angst was certain he could see fumes rising from her eyes. She looked at him accusingly before jerking her head toward the other table.
Angst inspected the noisy youths. They were loud, and obnoxious, but otherwise causing no harm. The pretty blonde was attempting to pull away from the large young man who, it seemed, wasn’t quite done eating her face. Angst stared closer at her long, curly blond hair, the pale skin that covered her high cheekbone, her thick dark eyelashes...
He stood so suddenly his chair flew back to the ground. Angst stomped over to stand behind the embracing lovers and gripped the large man’s shoulder.
“Here we go,” said Tarness with a sigh. He slowly got up and began moving tables and chairs aside to make room.
Angst placed his other hand on the man’s forehead, wrenched him out of lip-lock, and continued pulling until the angry youth stood. The man continued to stand until he towered over Angst, his large wide shoulders level with Angst’s forehead. The man’s arms were almost as large as Tarness’s. Angst ignored the oaf and turned his attention to the blonde.
“Tori, what in the Vivek are you doing here? What are you doing with that thing?” Angst said, jerking his thumb at his colossal opponent.
She merely giggled, obviously deep into the kegs.
“Do you have any idea who this is, you idiot?” Angst said, forcing his tongue around the words. He had one hand still on the man’s shoulder, raised high over his own head.
The fist hammered Angst’s face so hard, he flew over the table and landed at Rose and Hector’s feet. Angst looked up in shock, suddenly a bit more sober and certain most of his teeth were now loose or missing.
“I’ve got this,” Angst grunted reassuringly, still lying on the dusty floor.
“Angst?” Tori said in confusion.
“That’s Angst?” the young man said with challenge in his voice. “Doesn’t look like a hero to me. Let’s see if he still is one.”
“I think I’ve got this,” Angst said sitting up. Hector pushed on his back to get him on his feet.
Angst approached the young man, only to meet hammers. His opponent was fast and powerful, his fists making violent contact with every other swing. Tori drunkenly gripped the back of the young man’s arm and was knocked to the floor. In desperation, Angst reached out for anything stone or mineral, and found something he’d never considered. A blue glow surrounded Angst’s hands as he connected to the mineral with magic. The man grabbed Angst’s collar with his left hand and swung hard with his right.
The sound of cracking bone filled the room, followed by a loud scream. Everyone opened their eyes to find Angst remained standing, his face contorted in an angry scowl. The large man let go of Angst’s collar to hold his own arm. It was broken between the elbow and wrist, hanging grotesquely as though snapped in half.
Angst proceeded to release that day’s frustration. He smashed the man’s face with his left fist then his right, and continued to pummel until he threw all of his weight into a final blow that knocked the man unconscious. It was more than the young man had deserved, but the fight was over.
The other youths around the table quickly scurried away from Tori. He pulled her to her feet and draped a dangly arm over his neck to balance her. Angst shuffled the princess over to his table of friends.
“Rose, do you think you could...you know?” Angst asked politely, wiping blood from his face with a free hand.
“What did you do? He didn’t deserve this,” Rose snapped as she kneeled beside the young man and began to fix his broken arm.
“I weakened a spot in the bones of his forearm so it would break when he struck me,” Angst answered, surprised at her reaction.
“Since when could you do that?” asked Dallow with concern.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” Tori mumbled between her fingers.
Rose grimaced. The man’s arm straightened, snapping back into place with an unnatural jerk. She cried out as her arm cracked noisily. As though a hinge had been added between her wrist and elbow, the top of her arm fell over. Within moments, it reformed to a natural position. Rose wriggled her fingers before balling up a fist. She stood, angry and hot as the sun, and disgusted with both Angst and Victoria.
“You are on your own,” she snapped.
Rose stomped over to the pretty waitress and said a few words, before giving the other woman a long hug and leaving the bar. The waitress smiled and waved as Rose walked away then sat down for a moment to catch her breath.
Angst looked at his other friends, who all shook their heads as they eyed the hot mess of drunken princess hanging on the much older man. Tarness smirked while Hector stared down his nose judgmentally. Dallow rolled his eyes.
“Good luck with that.” Tarness chuckled, nodding at Tori.
Angst sighed and attempted to cover them both with his red cloak before stepping into the storm. Even as they shuffled their way through the entrance, he was
amazed someone so light and tiny could be so unmanageable.
4
“Why did you do that, Angst?” the Royal Princess Victoria slurred.
She wrapped her left arm around his neck and reached up with her tiny right hand to grip his heavy cloak for additional support.
Was she holding herself up, trying to get his attention, or both? Whatever the reason, he gracelessly stumbled over protruding cobblestones to compensate for her new position, and tripped them both. Quickly righting himself, he only just had time to catch Tori, wrapping both arms around her in the process. They were an unceremonious mess of awkward, but Angst held her for a lingering moment before letting go. Tori laughed so drunkenly, he couldn’t help but chuckle himself. She stopped laughing to stare at him, her thin eyebrows coming together with sincerity and concern.
“What did I do now?” Angst asked innocently, attempting to smirk against the biting winds. He pulled the thick red cloak tighter about his shoulders.
“He was so cute!” Tori said very loudly, stomping a little foot. “You shouldn’t break them like that.”
“I think you need less cute boys in your life right now,” Angst said in an attempt to sound playful yet stern.
“You’re jealous... Why are you jealous?” she teased, her thin brows furrowing. “I’m sure you were cute once too.”
The backhanded compliment sank into his wrinkled pores, making Angst feel old, though he did his best to ignore it. He had to question what he was doing. Shouldn’t he be at home with his pregnant wife instead of tripping through the streets of Unsel with the young princess? But he couldn’t leave Tori in the bar, not like this, and not with that young monster who had to be brimming with ill intent. Aside from that, Angst needed some time to sober up before the long ride home on his swifen. A brisk walk to the castle would clear his head and numb his fresh bruises.
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