by Jeff Gunzel
“Viola, please,” Liam intervened in a hushing tone.
“Nonsense,” said Assirra, dismissing his words with a spidery twitch of fingers. “She speaks her mind, unbound by the rules of etiquette. Innocence in its purest form. I shall not be the one to manipulate her innocence, for soon enough, the world shall do it anyway.”
Liam rose from his kneeling position. “I beg your pardon, Assirra, but do you have a superior, perhaps a ruler that we may speak with? In other words, who is it that you answer to?”
The glare she shot Liam was nowhere near the tolerant, forgiving look she had given Viola.
“How dare you!” Thatra shrieked, springing up from her feet. “Are you challenging the authority of the High Cleric?!”
“I challenge nothing,” Liam replied, empty hands rising up defensively. “I have no doubt our cultures are different in a number of ways, but my question was an innocent one. In your own words, you introduced yourself as a high cleric, a woman representing the gods, and someone to be respected for certain. But in my culture, that title holds little weight when compared to an empress, queen, or any other sovereign ruler. Please forgive my ignorance in your ways of social rank, but it would appear you are ignorant of mine as well.”
Thatra shook with rage, her white eyes narrowing into thin slits. But Assirra held up a calming hand, even smiling at Liam. “There is nothing to forgive,” Assirra assured him. “But I must admit, your words have already taught me much about your race. You seem to find it odd that a woman who speaks through our god Odao, bringer of life and vitality, would have the same authority as a king who lines his pockets with gold he stole from his own people. But as I understand it, if one calls it a ‘tariff’ then it is no longer theft. I fear you might be correct. It is clear our cultures are vastly different.” She brought a long finger up to her lips, pondering. “I can’t help but wonder which of our races is doomed, and which shall thrive in the coming centuries.”
Liam began to speak in defense, but slowly closed his mouth and looked away. Now was not the time for such petty arguments. Besides, Assirra’s words made a lot more sense than he cared to admit.
“Well, I’m sure you’re all tired from your journey,” she said, motioning towards the beaded door from which she entered. “As my special guests, later this evening we shall all dine together, united in the eyes of Odao. But first, I shall show you to your quarters so you may rest.”
*
His clouded mind still in a haze, the human heard a hissing sound that seemed to come from all around him. The pungent scent of sulfur assaulted his nose, alerting him to open his eyes. Red eyes stared back at him, black lips curled up in a fiendish grin. His eyes jetted wide open, horror gripping him as the memory of his whereabouts came flooding back. “Oh no. No!” he cried out, thrashing helplessly against the restraints. “There are hundreds here to choose from. Please, choose another. I’m begging you!”
“Oh...no... please...no,” Orm’rak mocked, emphasizing each word tauntingly. Even after countless years of feeding on fresh humans, their predictable responses never ceased to amaze him. “I find it fascinating how consistent you humans are. As if somehow your individual life is so much more precious than the next. I must ask, what exactly is your life worth to you?”
“I’ll do anything you ask,” he whimpered, drool and mucus dripping from his chin. “Just put me back up and choose another. I’m not ready to die!”
“And this is what I’m talking about,” said Orm’rak, moving up closer to his prey. “This lack of loyalty towards your fellow humans. This willingness to sacrifice another without hesitation, only to cling to your meaningless existence for just a little longer. Where does this cold, unrelenting survival instinct come from? After all, you’re already dead. Whether that’s today, tomorrow, or next year.”
“Please,” the human begged again, head thrashing back and forth. “I’ll be your personal slave. I’ll be whatever you want. Just choose someone else!”
Orm’rak threw his head back and laughed. “What are you trying to cling to?” he asked, amused. “A second chance at eternal sleep? You would choose that over an honorable passing? Your final act of greatness will be to nourish the body of a superior race. A lowly human worm could achieve no greater honor, yet you shun my offering in an attempt to live out your days in a dreamless coma. I’ll never understand the minds of humans.”
Orm’rak moved closer still to the trembling man, his icy cold breath pulsing against his cheek. “Before I award you my gift, I’m going to let you in on a little secret. Some rather resourceful humans recently foiled my plans. Had they accepted my most generous offer, not only would they have been rich beyond imagination, but would have walked away with their lives. But unlike a groveling worm such as you, they risked everything to stand up for a cause even they don’t understand.”
Orm’rak turned away, rubbing his chin in thought. “Perhaps you’re not all alike as I once believed. That is indeed...interesting.” He spun back with a blur, icy cold nose pressed to the man’s forehead. “However, my contacts on the surface world have discovered their location. If they think they can hide among the tarrins, they are wrong. They have something that belongs to me.” He traced his finger down the man’s forehead, between his eyes, before clutching his throat. “And I want it back!” he screeched.
With a snapping crunch, his teeth sank into the man’s neck. Hot pain shooting through his neck, the man screamed, fully expecting to die. He would eventually, but it would be many hours later. Within that time, Orm’rak periodically stopped his slow feeding to casually outline details of his planned attack on the tarrins. Other times, he simply reminded the man of how horrible his death would ultimately be. The surge of adrenaline sweetened the blood, giving Orm’rak all the reason he needed to keep tormenting his victim with promises of continued pain.
Hours later Orm’rak left the chamber, wiping his mouth with a satisfied grin. He couldn’t deny his good mood this fine day. There was just something in the air. He could feel it. He went outside, and casually strolled through the empty streets of his underground city. “Ah Kraindoel, you truly are beautiful,” he shouted out to no one. “But you will not be my tomb. I’m afraid my lofty ambitions spread far beyond your confined borders.”
With that, his body swirled into a funnel of screeching black birds. The whirling tornado spun up above the city, settling near the main breach leading into a system of caves. A single step became a thousand, cave walls blurring past his vision as he blazed forward with impossible speed. He bent through twists and turns, zipping around corners without even slowing. Within seconds, the dazzling light of the surface world’s fireball came into view. He slowed, practically walking as he sauntered up to the main cave entrance.
Squinting against its dazzling brightness, he stepped from the mouth of the cave to a thunderous roar. Hundreds of laberaths cheered, slamming their blades together in a series of booming claps. Klashtons snarled and bucked, rattling the chains around their necks and wrists. Bodies more rock than flesh, their coal-black eyes seemed to glisten under the intense light of the fireball above. Orm’rak knew exactly where they were hiding Viola, and no resource would be spared. He would take no chances this time.
“Loyal subjects!” Orm’rak boomed, his powerful voice seeming to carry on the wind. “Too long have we been hidden from this world, deemed parasites and driven deep down into a world of frozen stone. Well, I say the surface dwellers are the parasites and will die as such! Never have we been this close to our freedom. Never has it been so close to our grasp!”
More cheers rose, the cackling chirping of wild animals about to be released from their cages. “We have one goal,” he continued. “The girl must be found!” He pointed up to the blazing source of light in the sky. “Once the ritual is complete, this source of light and all it touches will belong to us.” He swept his finger in a long, sweeping circle. “Everything on the surface world...belongs...to...us. Onward we march!”
; *
“Pass me that thing over there,” Owen grunted, juice dripping from his chin as he pointed a ways down the table. “No, not that thing. The other thing. The little red things.” Confused, the tarrin picked up yet another plate, glancing back with a hopeful look. “Yeah, give em here.”
“Have you no manners?” Liam scolded in a hushed but harsh tone. “Your own apprentice is a far better representative of our people than you are. You could learn a thing or two from him.” Xavier ignored them both, quietly slicing a piece of yellow fruit.
“Bah,” Owen grunted, taking the offered plate and slamming it down next to his own. Small red fruits hopped up and down, a few spilling over onto the table. “If they wanted to see me good table manners, they would of served some meat. Under the circumstances...I’d say I’m being downright enchanting!” He stabbed a rolling red fruit with his fork, and chomped it savagely as if it were to blame for his mood.
His point was well taken, though. No meat had been served, and it didn’t seem like any would be coming. Liam hadn’t asked outright if the tarrins were indeed adverse to the idea of eating meat, but the answer seemed rather obvious at this point. Viola pushed her food around in circles, her fork clinking against the bottom of the plate.
“Is everything all right, dear?” Liam asked. “If you can get past the mushy texture, these green ones here are actually quite good.”
“I’m not hungry,” she said, dropping her fork onto the plate.
“You really should eat something,” Liam replied. “If you don’t nourish yourself with real food, the result of that may decrease the time between episodes of...you know.”
“Does it matter?” she asked, sighing down at her plate. “It’s going to happen anyway. Sooner or later.”
“Is that what’s bothering you?” he asked, setting down his own fork. “We handled it once already, remember?” He rolled his hand over, presenting a now perfectly healed wrist. “You’ve proven you can control yourself, if the need arises. Viola, we’re going to figure this out. I promise.” He glanced around, realizing there were quite a few empty seats between his group and all the other tarrins. His roaming eyes caught a few angry glances flashing in his direction. It would indeed be a long time before they were accepted here.
“You know, I think I’m finished,” he said, wiping his mouth and stepping back from the table. “Would you like to go back to our rooms now?” he asked, already certain of the answer. Viola was nodding eagerly long before he finished his sentence.
Heading back to the boxa tree, they had to cover a surprising distance before no longer hearing Owen’s complaining. Approaching the narrow, winding steps, Liam took a deep breath to prepare himself for the unpleasant experience. Coming down had been easier than going up, but he was about to be tested once again.
“Something tells me you are not fond of these steps,” came a voice from behind. Liam jumped, turning quickly to see Assirra standing there. She must have followed them when they left the table.
“I’m afraid I’m not too keen on heights,” Liam admitted, frowning at the winding steps.
“Then perhaps this will be of help,” Assirra said, urging them to follow her around to the other side. There stood what appeared to be a bamboo cage with a metal pulley on top. She glanced up and whistled. A moment passed before two heads peeked out from the platform above. After a wave of acknowledgment, they all stepped inside and closed the flimsy door. With a hissing squeak, the cage began to inch its way up in fits and jerks, the tarrins up top turning a crank. “Better?” she asked, smiling at the relieved mystic.
“I only wish you had showed me this great mercy a bit earlier,” he said.
“We don’t often find the need,” said Assirra, pushing back the makeshift door once they reached the top. “I couldn’t help but notice the two of you were uncomfortable this evening,” she said, changing the subject as they entered the structure. “For that I apologize. That was never my intent.”
“Please don’t apologize,” said Viola, one foot inching towards her quarters located through the next door. “I’m half human, half monster. The tarrins are not at fault for seeing me for what I am. It no longer matters where I go; the reception will always be the same.” She bent at the knees and dipped her head, giving her version of what a bow looked like to her. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I will retire.”
“Not just yet,” Assirra replied, raising a hand. “For the duration of your stay you will remain under my protection. That is the agreement we’ve made with the Demon Hunter. If you are in indeed in danger, that means my people are in danger as well.”
“What is it you are asking of her?” Liam asked. “Certainly she is not to blame for events she cannot control.”
“I lay blame on no one,” Assirra replied. “Yet too many questions remain unanswered. You have come here seeking asylum, yet we don’t know why Viola is being hunted in the first place. Her mixed blood is a biological impossibility, yet here she stands before me. Surely you understand that I must have some answers to these questions before I can guarantee my protection.”
“I seek answers to these questions as well,” Viola admitted.
“Then perhaps we shall seek them together,” Assirra replied, turning away and motioning for them to follow. They marched down a long hallway, ending in a far sturdier door than any of the others. Assirra pushed it back with a creaking groan, leading them into a dimly lit room. The freshly swept floor was sanded smooth with red markings scribbled everywhere. Thick black furs were thrown about, presumably to sit or kneel on. There were no chairs or tables, only a few candles placed at the centers of some of these drawn designs.
“This is where I pray to Odao,” said Assirra, her outstretched hand sweeping the scene.
“He listens and provides you with answers?” Liam asked, trying hard not to sound too skeptical. He had accidentally insulted her once today and was not looking to repeat his blunder.
“He provides us with everything,” she replied sharply, detecting the doubt in his voice. “Without Odao there is no sun and no sky. The world as we know it would whither into a wasteland of rot and decay. Make no mistake, my skeptical friend, every breath you take is Odao’s gift, and one to be cherished.”
Liam swallowed, not sure how to respond, but Assirra only smiled at him. “It is all right,” she reassured him. “I understand your suspicions. My words are destined to fall on deaf ears because you have yet to witness his greatness with your own eyes. You also believe the sun shall rise tomorrow as it has always done. The birds will sing, fish will swim, and all because it has always been so. You take for granted all of Odao’s miracles, never believing that a day may come when he may take them from this world. But that is about to change.”
“What is going to change?” Viola asked, beginning to grow nervous with all this talk of gods and the supernatural. And what did any of this have to do with her?
“With my guidance, he shall touch each of you tonight. I offer to you this evening a rare gift of sight, only a glimpse into a world mortal eyes were never meant to venture. It is here we shall find the answers we seek. Here, you can determine for yourself what is real and what is not.”
“Do we have a choice?” Liam asked.
“I am not your keeper,” Assirra said. “You always have a choice. But understand that the choice you make shall have a consequence. If you refuse the gift of sight, I can no longer offer you my protection. If that is your choice, I ask that you leave at daybreak.”
“I accept your gift,” said Viola, just as Liam was about to respond. She turned to Liam, a pleading look in her eyes. “Liam, please. I’m a stranger in my own world and I don’t even know why. There is no logical reason for my existence. No matter what happens, I’ll never forget what you and the others have done for me, but we can’t keep running forever. I would never ask that of you.” She glanced at his wrist. “I’m a danger to those who are closest to me. I refuse to be a burden to those I care about, without ever even k
nowing why. Either we learn the truth here and now...or we keep running for the rest of our lives. My choice is made.”
Liam held her pleading gaze, considering her words for a time. For a fleeting moment, she no longer appeared to be that same innocent young girl, naive of the world and all its dangers. She was a woman who had weighed her options and made a decision.
“Very well,” Liam said. “It’s not as if I have an alternative plan.” He turned back to Assirra. “Although I admit that I remain skeptical of your methods, we accept your offer. What would you have us do first?”
“Free your minds,” she said plainly, her bluish-white eyes seeming to light up. “A simple request, yes? There is no effort involved when seeking the truth, only acceptance. The path of least resistance is always the correct one.” She stood and made her way towards the door. “I shall gather the others. It is important that they be involved as well.” She left, leaving them to sit in silence for a time.
She returned a short time later, Owen, Xavier, and Thatra in tow. Liam waited for the loudmouthed hunter to make some sort of jest about the situation, but he did nothing of the sort. A solemn look on his face, he silently grabbed one of the black fur rugs and tossed it down on the floor. Xavier mimicked his master’s action, sitting down next to Viola.
“So, we’re really going to do this, aye?” Owen asked.
“The decision wasn’t mine to make,” Liam replied, eyes on the floor as Assirra drew a double circle in red. Hand moving in fits and jerks, she created what looked to be extremely complicated, intricate designs along the outer edge of the inner circle. Once finished, Assirra tossed her small piece of red rock aside and gestured for Thatra to come take a seat. They all sat in a circle, legs crossed, eyes on the circular design near their feet. Assirra placed a thick red unlit candle at the center of the circle.
“I want you to all join hands and close your eyes,” said Assirra, taking her place at the head of the circle. Xavier was the first to oblige, taking Viola by the hand. With a reassuring smile, he gave it a light squeeze, bouncing both their hands on top of her knee. The rest followed suit, none seeming particularly at ease. One at a time they closed their eyes, Liam the last to do so.
