Tainted Blood Anthology

by Jeff Gunzel

  Again, Alaric began moving, his feet sort of scrapping along the dirt street while his legs made a walking motion. They led him over to another ghatin who was standing in the street, his large, pink eyes fixed squarely on the human. Alaric’s legs suddenly gave way and he dropped down onto all fours. The ghatins at his side had not pushed him down, they simply let go of his arms.

  Alaric looked up from his kneeling position, sweat dripping from his nose and chin. “Why?” he groaned weakly.

  Glaring down at the pitiful human, the emotionless ghatin said nothing.

  Alaric looked around at the broken bodies scattered about. He had never particularly cared for people before. They were useful, of course, tools to be used in order to help him gain more power. But this time he truly felt pity for them. No one deserved such a fate as this. Until now, he wasn’t even sure he was capable of feeling pity. “They were women, children, peasants and farmers. They posed no threat to you. Why? Why do you hate us so much?”

  “Why?” the ghatin repeated, his bellowing laugh prompting the others around him to join in. “We spared you because you are the human in charge of this city, yes? But had we been aware of your shocking ignorance, we probably would have spared someone else instead. Why, you ask? You really don’t know, do you?”

  “No one does,” Alaric whispered, shaking his head. “We know nothing about you, only that your kind seems to be set on killing us. What is it that you want? Maybe we can work something out.”

  “Revenge,” the ghatin answered simply. Another ghatin leaned in and whispered to him. He nodded, appearing to agree with whatever was said between them. “So it’s true, you really don’t understand why this is happening.” He seemed to be having a hard time accepting that fact. “That is what happens when inferior beings have a lifespan as short as yours. Your history, everything your kind did in the past that defines you today, is lost within a generation or two. Forgotten, as if it never happened. The humans living in today’s world really have no idea who we are or what your ancestors did to our kind.”

  Alaric inched forward on his hands and knees. “Then why take it out on us? We cannot be held responsible for something our race did centuries ago.”

  “Such a thing is not so easily forgotten!” the ghatin boomed, his white body flashing forward before stopping just short of the groveling human. Grinning suddenly, he lifted Alaric’s chin with his fingertips, forcing Alaric to look him in the eyes. “Besides,” he whispered, his large, pink eyes seeming to grow even wider. “Those humans are long gone, yet someone must still be held accountable for their crimes.” With a short thrust, he shoved Alaric’s head back in disgust.

  Alaric began to weep. He leaned forward all the way, forehead touching the ground with his hands wrapped around the back of his head. All this time he had just been trying to deal with the shock of it all. Everyone he knew was dead, and he would likely be next. The shock helped keep his emotions numb, but it was wearing off now. This was really happening and he would probably be killed the moment they grew bored of mentally torturing him.

  “But what is the point of killing off my race?” Alaric pleaded, his survival instinct kicking in at the last moment. He had spent most of his life talking his way out of responsibility, saying anything in order to not be held accountable for his actions. Perhaps he could do it this one last time before it was too late. “What will that prove? Look around you!” he shouted, rising up on his knees, twisting his hands left and right at the bloody carnage. “You have no equal. What is the point of a mighty lion suddenly deciding to hunt flies? We cannot possibly hurt you.”

  “And yet you already have!” the ghatin shouted in his face, his normally hissing voice sounding more like a boom of thunder. Alaric drew in on himself, hands tucked under his arms as he sank back down to the ground. “Centuries ago, your people created a species right under our noses, one whose very touch was toxic to my kind. Those despicable mutants turned the tide of our war against the humans.”

  “But that was so long ago,” Alaric reasoned, still grabbing at straws to try and save his own skin. He really wasn’t even sure what the ghatin was talking about.

  “They have returned!” It was all Alaric could do not to cover his ears from the thunderous blast. “And once again it seems as though history is about to repeat itself.”

  “Wait, wha—” Alaric struggled to think, not an easy thing to do given the looming threat of his own death hanging over him. These...lerwicks. That had to be what he was talking about. He had even held one captive here once, not knowing what she was at the time. But most recently, word had spread across the land of their existence. A call, a summoning for them to come out of hiding. “Are you talking about these...lerwicks? But we had nothing to do with them. No one even knew they existed until recently. That is not our fault! Please, you must believe me!”

  All the ghatins around him boomed with laughter. “Of course we believe you,” the ghatin said. “A simpleton such as yourself is completely incapable of knowing how to bring them back. And yet you have seen them for yourself, yes? They are not a thing of nature, but a creation built to destroy us. A creation built by your kind! It no longer matters which one of you did it, because all of you will die eventually. Which brings me back to you.”

  Alaric’s mind began to swirl with irrational thoughts. He considered trying to run straight through them, hoping he might make it out of the city. Absurd... He would make it two feet before being cut down. But his options were nonexistent and he didn’t want to die. A small chance was still better than none. He tensed, eyes scanning for the best possible escape route.

  “We are not going to kill you,” the ghatin assured him, as if reading his thoughts. “Not yet, anyway. Your time will come soon enough, just as it will for all humans. But there is something you must do first. We allowed your birds to go so they may spread the word, but more will be required. The curse is broken, you see; we are free now. Those messages are not enough to spread the true warning of what is about to happen to your world, and that is where you come in. Your fellow humans need to see the terror in your eyes as you tell the tale of what happened here today. You, Lord Alaric Bournfred, the lone survivor of your once great city. Now go and spread word of our legacy before we change our minds.”

  A gasp of air burst from Alaric’s mouth. Had he really been holding his breath this whole time? His burning lungs pumped air in and out as if his head had been held underwater for over five minutes. He wasn’t going to die? He was free to go? He turned away slowly, resisting the urge to start running. Each step was a moral victory, another second of life gifted to a walking dead man. The sea of white bodies parted, presenting him with an obvious path out of the city.

  “Remember,” came a call from behind him. He froze, too terrified to turn around. “The next time we meet, my face will be the last thing you ever see.” Ghatins began laughing, taunting him by waving their flesh blades about. Others picked up dead bodies lying at their feet, making the corpses nod or wave at him as he passed by. They really had no regard for human life whatsoever. Alaric threw up multiple times, the quick bursts of bile landing at his feet. But he didn’t slow or speed up, just kept on walking.

  Step by step, he kept moving at a steady pace with his head down. He had no idea how much time had passed—an hour, a full day? But when he finally worked up the nerve to look up, he was outside of the city. He glanced back over his shoulder but saw no one in pursuit. He was alone and alive! With a scream, he broke into a dead sprint, running with everything he had. His bloodcurdling wail twisted into mad laughter, than back into screaming. Lungs burning, heart pounding, he streaked into the woods without looking back again.

  *

  The low fire crackled away, it flickering light casting a hypnotic pattern across the makeshift camp. Alaric whimpered each time the flame popped. It had been hours since his release, and he still couldn’t stop his hands from trembling. They’re all dead... I’m the only one left.

  He could ha
rdly wrap his head around that fact. How could he ever accept what he had witnessed? Right at that moment, Alaric’s whole life seemed to flash before his eyes. The womanizing, the drinking, the lies and promises made just to keep him in power. Had he ever done anything good in his life? Had he ever helped anyone for the sake of doing the right thing, and not just for personal gain? He could not recall a single time, and yet somehow he was the one who had survived this tragedy. For some reason or another, he had been given a second chance.

  A wolf howled in the distance, causing Alaric to curl up in a ball. Trembling, he began to sob for what felt like the hundredth time. He knew he would never be the same. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. He didn’t know who he was apologizing to, or even why he was saying it in the first place.

  It just seemed like something he needed to say. Something long overdue.

  Chapter 14

  The days seemed to fly by as Aleesia and Assirra trained together, their already intense workload growing harsher still with each passing moon. More than a few times Aleesia had to warn her to slow down. Assirra would never reach her goal if she dropped dead from exhaustion. But Assirra would hear none of it. Instead, the dire warning only seemed to further motivate her. Surely her body had limits, but as of yet, neither had figured out just what those limits were. At this stage, she appeared to be a freak of nature. They were both in uncharted territory.

  “We’ve been at it all day,” Aleesia warned, hands on her knees as if she had been the one exerting all this effort. She couldn’t even imagine what Assirra must be feeling like right about now. “Aren’t you ready to take a break? Keep pushing yourself like this and I can’t ensure your safety.”

  “One week,” Assirra grunted, her voice strained with tension as she fought to maintain her concentration. “Your words, correct?” Aleesia lowered her eyes but didn’t reply. “Then don’t bother trying to tell me to go easy if it’s our last day together. If I drop dead from exhaustion, then at least I go out on my terms. I will use every second I have and not hold back.”

  Although she didn’t necessarily agree with that reasoning, Aleesia couldn’t help but admire Assirra’s passion and commitment. Watching as she displayed a drive that bordered on obsession, this was hardly the same woman she remembered from so long ago. Her devotion to Odao had never been in question. There was a time when she would have gladly given her life in service to her god. She understood the meaning of sacrifice, but this new version of Assirra was shockingly different. Her passion was no longer reserved for a god, or anyone else for that matter. She was doing this endless training for herself, and no one was going to take it away from her.

  Arms out wide, sweat dripping from her temples, surrounding white faces continually winked in and out of existence. Large stones circled Assirra’s body, drifting around as if caught in a slow-moving tornado. The invisible whirlwind of energy seemed to expand, pushing the ring of stones farther out. Aleesia had to step back so as not to get struck. She recognized how difficult a feat this actually was, and could hardly believe her eyes. Moving so many at once was hard enough, but to move them so far away from her body took tremendous concentration.

  Aleesia jumped at a sudden crackling sound, then turned to see a nearby tree stump wiggle and sway while still seated in the ground. Crunching and cracking, it ripped up from the ground, bits of dirt and rock raining down off its tangled roots. Aleesia stared in disbelief. The energy required to do such a thing, let alone while concentrating on keeping all these rotating stones aloft, was almost impossible to comprehend. Joining the circle of stones, the heavy stump began to circle around Assirra.

  Face tensed, jaw muscles trembling with strain, Assirra raised her hands higher while tipping her head back. White spheres appeared up above her and began circling around her head. Using the dead’s energy to move objects was one thing, no matter how impressive, but changing the energy into a physical form was significantly harder. Now doing them at the same time? Unheard of.

  The spheres of white energy began to spin faster. Five at first, they suddenly split in half to form identical copies of each other. Five became ten, then ten became twenty. Beyond stunned, Aleesia just watched in amazement. She could have never done such a thing herself, not even close. It was not so much the amount of energy needed to pull off such a feat. The dead’s energy was everywhere, effectively making it an endless power source. But it was the amount Assirra’s body could hold at one time. Anyone else would have burned up, yet still she seemed to be taking in even more.

  The spinning spheres began to change shape, elongating, flattening as they spun. Again, another feat that required a significant amount of power. Spheres were the energies’ natural shape in the physical world of the living. Changing their form from their natural state was a different challenge altogether. But Assirra was doing it, although this time the strain on her body was evident. Eyes tearing up, veins bulging around her neck as her knees began to shake, it was clear she could not maintain this level for much longer.

  Aleesia just shook her head in disbelief, watching the stones and stump rotate as well as the white spheres which were no longer spheres at all. They were now white daggers made of pure energy all twirling above her head. White tails streamed behind them, a sort of ghostly afterglow from the foreign energy not of this world.

  Shaking, sweating profusely, Assirra suddenly twisted her body and spun back. Roaring like some kind of wild beast, she cast her hands out and down in a whipping motion. A spectacular aerial assault bombarded the nearby trees. Stones collided with the trees, splintering away huge chunks of bark while actually knocking down some of the smaller trees. White energy daggers burned straight through the thick trunks, sometimes penetrating four or five deep before impaling trees that were several meters away. Rammed deep into the tree trunks, the glowing blades smoked and hissed for several seconds before fading away, leaving behind their burnt holes as a reminder that they were plenty real.

  As dust settled all around, Assirra dropped down to her knees. But when Aleesia went running over to help, she waved her off. After several deep breaths, she slowly pushed herself back to her feet. How was she even conscious after such a masterful display, let alone still standing on her own? “I’m fine,” Assirra assured her, wiping the back of her hand across her forehead. She was covered with sweat and her hands were still trembling, but her glowing grin confirmed that she was indeed just fine.

  “I’ve never seen anything like that,” Aleesia gasped. “I have known numerous shadow mages, masters of their craft who spent years perfecting their art. And I can say with complete confidence that you rival any of them. I can’t even begin to explain it. Honestly, it makes no sense.”

  “Well, I thank you for the compliment,” Assirra said, arching her back with her hands on her hips. She really was quite exhausted, but the heavy fatigue felt wonderful. It had been ages since she felt so alive. “But I really don’t think it’s all that much of a mystery. It is just as we suspected. After years and years of allowing a deity’s power to flow through me, my body has adapted to it quite well over the years. In fact, the only real difference between the two energies is the control I have. This power is mine to do as I wish. I suppose you can say it is the difference between wielding a weapon, and being that weapon.

  “Yet I still feel as if I’m struggling with the transition between seizing the power and actually using it. That is where it feels most different. I used to open myself up to Odao, allowing his power to flow through me like water through a spout. But with this form of energy, I have to actually reach out to it, feel it, seek it aggressively. And that goes against my instincts somewhat.”

  “A small price to pay for such power, I should think,” Aleesia said with a wink.

  “Without question,” Assirra agreed, flashing a return wink.

  Aleesia’s grin dropped away and she cleared her throat uncomfortably. “You know,” she began slowly, “even if this wasn’t our last day of training, there is little else I coul
d teach you anyway. Already you are far beyond my level. When I think about what you might be capable of in the coming years, it actually frightens me.”

  “Have I not always been beyond your level?” Assirra waggled her eyebrows.

  “Now there is the mean, bitter lady I remember.”

  After a shared laugh, the two of them went back inside for dinner and tea. Aleesia had to admit that she had enjoyed Assirra’s company these last few days. After living in seclusion for so long, one might think that even a talking squirrel might be a welcome sight. But in truth, she had grown quite accustomed to being alone. It no longer bothered her as it once had, and she had learned a lot about herself over the years.

  But this was different. She hadn’t realized how much she missed the feeling of a true friend. And never in her wildest dreams did she think she might fill that void by bonding with the very woman who had condemned her to this state of isolation.

  The women talked into the night, both of them avoiding the unpleasant topic that required no additional attention. Assirra would be leaving in the morning and they both would go back to their lives and probably never see each other again. Still, the extended visit had been good for both of them. Personal demons had been faced and conquered, and a bitter old rivalry had finally been put to rest.

  The hour grew late and it was time to retire. They had put it off as long as they could. There were no good nights exchanged this evening, for it felt a little too much like a premature goodbye. Instead, they just closed their eyes and went to sleep.