by CA Morgan
The demon, trapped in a spell of vile sorcery gone wrong, gnashed its enormous, fanged maw and turned on itself. The sharp talons of one, giant claw raked ferociously into the flesh of one massive thigh, while the other tore out huge chunks of flesh from its bloody chest and belly that burst into flame and ash. With a deafening roar that split asunder a vile altar of sacrifice, the demon exploded into a fiery, raging wind that seared and flattened a mighty forest for leagues in all directions. The fiery light of destruction blazed one last time and then there was darkness, silence.
An evil blackness, acute and absolute, hung over the land. In the void was a silence so deep that it ached for the susurration of the minutest whisper.
Raga felt the horror of utter aloneness settle upon him. There was no light, no sound, nothing but the black void of death and annihilation. He felt, at once, the genesis of his primal, elemental beginning and the end result of his destructive powers. He saw the void of emptiness where his power might bring light and warmth, yet this was not a place of creation, but rather annihilation.
He remained in the darkness where there was no warmth, only cold, empty nothingness swirling around him. It was the same deep, cavern-like coldness he had felt coming from Eris that night in the Moren Forest. Perhaps an essence of this event still clung to him and it was more than a memory. It could explain many things as far as he understood his own magic. It could explain a lot of things, except how Eris had survived such an experience.
Still, Raga saw nothing. The black eddy currents of dissipating evil swirled. The force of Eris’ memory was so strong he felt the evil flowing around him, its black fingers tugging at his mind, pawing at his person. His mind’s eye scoured the blackness for the silver link, for one glimmer of light, for the essence of the man he now respected more deeply.
He felt it, convoluted and shuddering, but it remained hidden. Then, from somewhere far away, the tiniest sound caught his attention, so far and faint that his ears ached with strain to hear. It seemed an eternity passed in that place of nothing as ever so slowly the sound became louder and louder until he recognized it as, unbelievably, a voice. It was a voice filled with savage screams of rage and fury and vowed vengeance unto death itself.
It was a voice Raga knew well for it was the raw, terror-filled voice of Eris Pann.
The nightmare ended. The sounds of rage faded with the blackness and the gleam of the tremulous silver bond broke through the gray shadows that lingered. Raga’s mind seized hold of the link as if it were a lifeline cast to a drowning man. He held it tightly, protectively, and he soothed its rippling tension until it became calm and slack between its anchor points.
It was finished. Eris’ tear-filled eyes saw again the green grass beneath his feet, yet he remained clenched in a tight ball and wept quietly. After a time, he felt chilled as a gentle breeze wafted through his sweat-soaked clothes.
For a long while Raga did nothing but sit and stare and wonder at the staggering event he had just witnessed. Of course, he had seen these things before, and had even orchestrated the destruction of a few meddlesome demons, but never had he witnessed or felt the awesome magnitude of such an event through the eyes and heart of a mortal man. He took a cloth from out of his tunic and wiped his brow. There was no question now as to why Eris had a disquieting, sometimes violent, reaction to magic in any form.
What man wouldn’t? Not only that, but Eris had managed to cling to his sanity when, Raga was certain, other men would have been utterly consumed and destroyed by their terror.
Raga wondered at the terror he felt at being alone in the void; seeking but not finding the essence or form of any living thing, mortal or elemental. He realized for the first time in his long existence that he truly was a part of the mortal world as much as he was a part of its elemental nature and structure. Yes, he was fire, hot and burning during the siege of war, but also warm and comforting on a winter night. Yet didn’t his essence inspire the passion of a poet’s mind or his fire temper the courage in a brave man’s heart?
And what courage, Raga wondered, what unknown force existed within Eris that allowed him to withstand the working of magic after what he’d been through? What force, what fortitude, kept the nightmare from consuming Eris when either his or Charra-Tir’s magic worked upon him? He couldn’t begin to guess.
Raga saw Eris shiver and realized it was from cold not fear as the long, shallow rays of the sun faded from the fields. He grunted as he got stiffly to his feet and went to his bundles. He pulled out a blanket and two skins of wine. He dropped the skins on the ground in front of Eris, then wrapped his arms around the blanket and held it tight to his chest and face. He breathed a bit of warmth into its folds, but not so much that Eris would notice or take fright, then he bent and wrapped it around him.
The sorcerer sat back down beside Eris and uncorked a skin. He drank down the contents and refilled it with his own magical concoction. Much time seemed to pass as he waited for Eris to calm completely. The waiting made him increasingly anxious. Finally, when Eris wiped his face with a corner of the blanket and ran his fingers through his damp hair smoothing it away from his face, Raga felt it was safe to speak.
“Drink, Eris,” Raga said and held out the other skin.
Eris took it without looking at the sorcerer. He drank slowly as he stared out across the grassy field to where the horses, oblivious to all that had happened, grazed on the last of the sweet grass. The light of the disappearing sun blazed orange behind a low layer of thick clouds and purple fingers stretched up lazily to pull the blanket of night over a tired sky.
When it was completely dark, and Raga had made only a small fire, Eris leaned back against the tree and stretched out his cramped legs. He made no move to get closer to the fire, knowing that in the darkness, Raga couldn’t see so clearly his weakness, his humiliation. Yet he knew there was no way he could have stopped the onrush of that horrifying memory. He always tried. He always failed. He always fell victim to its power.
At some point during that madness, Eris remembered feeling Raga’s presence. For reasons he could not, or more did not, want to understand, he felt somehow comforted by it. It seemed the calm returned to him on a deeper level than it had in the past. Yet the humiliation and shame of his weakness in front of this man, who was after all a powerful sorcerer, remained virulently alive. He felt he could never again look directly into the face of Raga-Tor without feeling abased and despised that weakness in himself.
“Here, eat a little bit and you’ll feel better,” Raga said, holding out a bowl of steaming rice and meat.
Without a word, Eris took the bowl, but only picked at his dinner. A few bites later, he placed the now cold food on the ground next to him.
“You saw it, didn’t you?” he asked in a flat voice.
“Part of it. Why don’t you tell me the whole story? If you think you can,” Raga suggested.
“I feel like such a fool. That happened four years ago and it still has such an incredible power over me,” Eris said and felt utterly drained.
Raga frowned. “How many years have you?”
“Twenty-one. Why?”
Raga didn’t answer, but looked more closely at the man beside him. It wasn’t the answer he expected. Eris was still only a boy, a babe, as far as Red Vale sorcerers measured time and age. Yet he had that cold cynicism usually found in someone much older, more experienced. But more experienced in what? In that one event alone Eris had experienced a tragedy that other men hoped never to behold even in their most terrifying nightmares, let alone in person.
“Why?” Eris asked again breaking in on Raga’s thoughts.
“I don’t know. I guess I thought you were older, but you’ve just become a man by the reckoning of most. By the gods, Eris, four years ago you were just a child,” Raga exclaimed. A hint of fatherly concern appeared on his face.
“I suppose you could say that. What I didn’t know of the world was taught to me quickly. Fortunately, I seem to be an adept student or I wo
uld have been dead long ago,” Eris said and lapsed into silence.
For a time they remained silent not knowing what to say to each other. Eris finally broke the quiet unease of their camp.
“I’ll tell you what happened. Then you’ll understand why I can’t go to the Vale and why you must go alone. Surely your stone can’t run away from you there. I can’t believe Charra-Tir’s spell can overcome the will of a god’s avatar,” Eris quietly assumed.
Raga said nothing, but shrugged his shoulders and moved a little closer to the fire.
“It all started with the death of my father, and very soon after that, my grandmothers’s. I was seventeen. I had no more close family and no desire to assume my father’s post as the king’s huntsman. A few of my friends and I decided to leave home and see something of the world. As you would surmise, we soon ran out of money and luck. We fell prey to the first conscript recruiter that came along. He offered good wages and the chance to be a part of a campaign to rescue some sacred relic. I still remember how eager we all were to test our mettle. The man in charge of the whole affair wasn’t a soldier by any measure. Had I not been so foolish, so naïve, I would have seen him for what he really was.”
Raga heard the self-reproach in Eris’ voice.
“You can’t blame yourself for not knowing. A great part of youth is the joy of not knowing everything and being able to explore. To have less responsibility before the hard truths of life force that responsibility on you. This man you speak of was a sorcerer, or one who would call himself such?”
Eris nodded. He took a long drink from the skin and continued.
“We marched to the city where the supposedly stolen relic was hidden and put it under siege. After a month or so, we took the city. The dust from the ruined gates hadn't even settled, when we gained the streets looking for this relic. There was an extra bag of gold for whoever found it. By the time I managed to get through the chaos, the temples were already overflowing with men, so I decided to forget the relic and see what else I could find.
“A group of us stormed a mansion on the far side of town that no one else had come to yet. Once inside, we all wandered off in different directions. I came to a wing that looked like it hadn’t been used in years. On the marble floor, I saw faint traces of footprints in the dust. I followed them to a chamber and went inside.
“Needless to say I was very surprised to find one of the temple maids hiding there. On the table in front of me was that damned relic,” Eris said. He paused to drink again.
“What was it?”
“It was a bronze statue of a man holding some kind of ring and a crystal orb. It’s strange, though. I can never seem to remember just exactly how it looked. In any case, I was just glad to have found it.”
“What about the girl?”
“I will never forget how beautiful she was and scared to death. She bade me take the statue if I would spare her. That was fine with me. I had no reason to kill her. Before I had retreated a dozen steps, she called me back and begged me to protect her from the army that was ravaging the city.
“She was so innocent, so trusting, I couldn’t refuse. She hid, while I took the statue to the sorcerer. He asked about the maid who was to have guarded the object with her life.
“I lied and told him she lost her courage to protect it as she left it behind and fled into the sewers where I lost her trail. He accepted the explanation and gave me the gold,” Eris said and drank down the last of the wine.
“And when you returned to fetch her, she was gone,” Raga assumed. It was a familiar tale.
“No, she was there.”
“Really?” Raga marveled. “Didn’t she think you would ravish her just as quickly as anyone else?”
“I guess not, because I didn’t.”
“Well, that surprises me. Why not?” Raga asked curiously. “Any other young man on his first victorious campaign likely would have.”
A trace of a smile, the hint of a memory passed over Eris and Raga saw his features and his eyes soften.
“As I told you before, I’m a man of honor. My grandmother would have roused from her grave and whipped my ass had I done such a thing. Besides, she was already so scuffed and terrified by her escape from the temple, that I just took her away from there.”
“So, once there was innocence in you as well,” Raga said thoughtfully. “Then what?”
“I grabbed my horse and we rode from the city. My friends all cheered when they saw us ride out. In spite of her tattered appearance, there was no denying her beauty. They thought I had gotten the best prize, but it turned out to be the worst.
“Eventually, we arrived at another small town. She didn’t talk much and sometimes she made me feel uneasy. I found a boarding house and took a room for each of us. I had plenty of gold. We kept it that way for a while until one evening, when I came back from an errand or something, and found her waiting in my room. From then, on we were inseparable, and that night began the loss of innocence for us both,” Eris said. He suddenly breathed deeply and his eyes again looked haunted, tormented.
“Easy, my boy, that is all far away in the past,” Raga said quietly. “You can do nothing to change it. Let it rest.”
Eris nodded that he understood and wiped his face with the blanket.
“It wasn’t long after that night that the so-called sorcerer found us. Too late we discovered that the amulet she wore around her neck was somehow linked to the statue. I never did understand why she didn’t know that. Little did either of us know that it was his intention to use her in some cruel, unholy ritual,” Eris said.
“You keep referring to this girl as her and she. Surely you knew her name?” Raga finally had to ask.
Eris looked at Raga with a face drawn by sorrowful loss. His voice came out as an angry whisper.
“I don’t know it. I can’t remember it, yet I loved her. How can I have forgotten the very name of the girl who trusted me with her life? Who meant everything to me?”
“Stop, don’t say any more. Let it go. It isn’t important to what you’re telling me,” Raga said and watched Eris struggle to regain his calm.
“The sorcerer-turned-priest was enraged that I lied to him and swore he would have his revenge on me. They locked us in a cage and for three days we traveled through an ancient, half-dead forest until we came to a rocky summit. In that desolate place, someone had built a stone altar surrounded by carved-stone pillars. Each of the creatures carved into the rock was more hideous than the one next to it.
“As preparations for this ceremony began, the statue began to grow more and more grotesque in appearance. The girl screamed and pleaded with them to release us until she was prostrate with exhaustion. I struggled to find a way to free us, but I couldn’t. We were chained and too heavily guarded.
“On the second night of our journey, I had managed to break the cage's lock. Our escape would have been good had a wildcat not suddenly howled and startled the dozing guard. As punishment, they kicked and pummeled me to the point that I thought I would be the first to die. So even had I been able to think of some new escape, I didn't have the strength the carry it out,” Eris said. He pointed and held out his hand to Raga for him to give over his wineskin.
Raga hesitated knowing Eris would be able to taste the difference. Eris motioned again for him to comply, and did so reluctantly. Raga watched him tip the skin and pause after a couple swallows. He wondered what sort of reaction he was in for as Eris wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. Raga was pleasantly surprised, when Eris picked up his empty skin and tossed it into his lap. Eris gave him a nod and looked away as the bag grew fat with liquid.
“Finally, a few days later,” Eris said, resuming the tale, “they came for us. The girl was exhausted and blind with fear. She collapsed as they dragged her to the altar and away from me. But they needed her fear, her screams as a part of their ritual, and mine as well they decided in the end. They forced us to drink some foul liquid that made our skin, when lightly
touched, burn with incredible pain. I had never known such pain before nor have I since. I’m sure you know what it was they gave us,” Eris said.
“I’ve heard of it, yes, but I’ve never used it on anyone that I can remember. It’s crude, but effective,” Raga answered.
“They put her on the altar, and then they tied my hands and stretched me between two stone pillars. When it was dark, they began their chanting and brushed over the girl’s skin with a long, black feather. Even now her screams echo in my mind and seem to go on forever,” Eris said quietly, and looked up at the stars twinkling overhead.
“And you? What did they do to you?” Raga asked. He felt his own skin ache as Eris told his story.
“They beat me with a knotted flail,” he answered in a slight whisper, and closed his eyes. “After that I don’t remember very much. Where her screams ended and mine began—”
“Stop. It's enough. Don’t torture yourself with trying to remember, just forget. I saw the destruction of the demon myself,” Raga said. He couldn’t even begin to understand how Eris had managed to live through what he was describing, yet he knew it was the truth. He shuddered to think about it.
“But do you want to know how and why the demon was destroyed?” Eris asked. His eyes were suddenly alert and focused intently on Raga.
“I had assumed the priest said something wrong or that the portal between the worlds began closing on the demon before they could get it all the way through,” Raga answered.
“Don’t think it was that simple. No, it was much more tragic and twisted. Their incantation provided for only one soul to be offered from that altar, but by some cruel twist of fate, there were two.”
“Two?”
Eris nodded and drank down a goodly portion of Raga’s wine.
“In the fire and destruction, I saw two rise up from the altar. Hers and that of a babe unknown to either of us. What fate, what god decreed that she should be with child in only a few weeks time, because that’s all we had? It was my child, Raga. Two innocent lives destroyed,” Eris said, but Raga found himself without words. “I thought these things were done with virgin sacrifice. Obviously, the naiveté goes deep with me. The demon was beyond rage. The sorcerer's mistake cost it its existence in any world. It tore him and his minions limb from bloody limb before it destroyed itself.”
