by JD Franx
Two black metal stands were set in the floor at the outer edges of the interior piece. They were engraved with more unfamiliar characters. The guards forced Kael to his knees, where he was quickly locked into the stands by his wrists. It kept him on his knees while his arms were pulled straight out to the side like a cross. His ankles were locked to the glyphs’ surface, side by side behind him. In front of him was another stand about waist high, but much thinner and topped with a four-pronged claw resembling a severed hand that was missing the thumb. Both the stand and the finger-claws were covered in archaic symbols he did recognize. They were nearly identical to the ones he had seen on Gabriel’s Gyhhura collar, and he assumed on his own. Kael’s stomach did a cold flip, afraid of what was to come.
With him secure, Sythrnax picked up four thin, long gold chains that hung from each prong of the claw and attached them to the four spikes on the collar embedded in Kael’s neck. Frantic, Kael searched through the writings burnt into the outer piece of the glyph. He concentrated harder, trying to find something familiar that might give him some idea that would help him escape, or in the very least what to prepare for, but he recognized nothing.
Once the gold chains were attached, Sythrnax explained. “You see Kael, I promised you the pain would begin at some time. I keep my word, newborn, more than you know.”
Not in the mood for a long ego-inflated talk, Kael snorted. “Just get on with it, Sythrnax. Your blabbering big mouth isn’t gonna make it hurt any more,” he said, trembling. Again, Kael could see the strange purple eyes above Sythrnax’s mask light up with what could only be pleasure and amusement, the kind one felt when an animal does something unexpected.
“Your wish is my command, O mighty wizard,” Sythrnax said, bowing. He removed a disk-like crystal gem the size of a small fist, similar to the one sewn into the glove of his right hand, and pushed it sideways into the fingers with a solid click. “With this gem in place, the next six hours will pass with this device leeching all the power your connection to the earth can supply at any given time. It will be similar to using the amount of magic required to break your cruus, a death sentence for a normal wizard. Another habit of your disgustingly pathetic race, reaching beyond your knowledge and limits. The crystal will drain and then harness your power for us to use it as we see fit. The Gyhhura will keep you alive afterwards, so long as the machine itself doesn’t kill you in the process. It has done so to many wizards before you.”
“Why?” Kael growled, as he shook his bound hands in an attempt to break himself free from the ancient machine.
“I do honestly hope you survive, Kael. Your... Soul is unlike any I’ve seen before, it’s strong. So, for you, one last answer. Though you won’t like it, I’m sure. The crystal’s power will help make our soldiers immune to your people’s archaic magic. You can thank the ancient Dwarven race for the miracle of this wonderful machine, it was easily adapted to our Gyhhura collars. This city above you was dedicated to discovering new ways to fight against magic. I think the Dwarven people hated magic more than the Northmen and their gods.”
Kael just stared, the reference to the Northmen gods went right over his head. He was missing too many cultural references and jokes. A crash course in Talohna history was a must, and soon. Knowing it would likely backfire, Kael still couldn’t resist the chance to make Sythrnax choke on his own words.
“Sorry, Syth ol buddy, I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.” He chuckled when Sythrnax said nothing in return. The blank look in his strange purple eyes caused Kael to burst out into hysterical laughter at his own defiant statement. A savage backhand from the Orotaq guard snapped his head to the side and cut the laughter off instantly as the spikes from the collar raked the nerves inside his neck again. Kael spit a mouthful of blood on the floor and let his head hang as the waves of tingling sparks peaked and slowly receded throughout his body.
Suddenly not feeling so well, Kael felt the room spin underneath him, but realized it wasn’t from the dizziness of the savage strike. As he glanced down at the glyph beneath him, it began to glow a brilliant, ethereal blue and the centre piece spun to the left, taking him with it.
The outer section with the strange markings turned to the right, grinding and popping until both parts made a full rotation and came back together with a solid clunk. Kael looked up into the smiling faces of the Orotaq guards and the purple eyes of their leader. The gemstone Sythrnax had placed in the fingered pedestal in front of Kael’s face flickered and blazed with a bright light before it settled down into a dull, blue glow. It throbbed with power, steadily growing in intensity. In a matter of only a few seconds, Kael could feel his strength weakening, but Sythrnax wasn’t done yet. He grabbed a long metal handle in the room’s right corner and pulled. Four symbols from the outside ring slid into the middle piece where Kael was secured, draining his strength further.
Kael fought the machine’s effects as Sythrnax stepped in front of him. “I will be back in about six hours to replace this gem with another. For your second cruus.” Sythrnax smiled as he revealed his knowledge of Kael’s second source of power. Kael couldn’t hide his shock, caught completely off guard. Considering he hadn’t used underworld magic against Sythrnax in the mountain pass he had hoped the creature wouldn’t know about it. Keeping it a secret was their only advantage for escape, should his failed powers ever return.
“Don’t be so surprised, Kael. Did you honestly think that I knew you were a DeathWizard but not how your magic works? Stupid Dosa.” Kael frowned at the unusual word, prompting Syrthnax to shake his head. “So much knowledge lost. Dosa means pest, Kael. All the Lesser races are Dosa, pests too stupid to realize when they shouldn’t touch. I knew about your unique power long before your first ancestors where aware of what their powers could do. I fought the very first of your kind on the battlefield over twelve thousand years ago. I have killed more of your kind than any of my people. You can get nothing by me, ever,” he snapped, his true hatred finally bleeding through his calm demeanour.
Kael slumped, defeated and already exhausted.
True to his word, Sythrnax returned roughly six hours later. Kael couldn’t tell for sure, with his life energy being slowly drained away, he was sure of very little. The six or so hours Sythrnax had been gone were a time of muscle cramps and wasting strength. Kael was pretty sure that he would be strong enough to survive the device’s effects, but doubted he could keep conscious for longer than three or four more hours. The second Sythrnax placed the new crystal into the clawed pedestal, it slowly filled with swirling black wisps and pain began creeping into Kael’s body. Sythrnax nodded, as if approving of what he saw.
“Now that is just what I’ve been waiting for, Kael. Too bad more of your kind are not running around everywhere in Talohna. Ah well. For now, you alone will do just fine, newborn.” He laughed as he walked away, leaving Kael to suffer and get weaker.
The next twelve hours were a haze of agony, dizziness, and partial hallucinations. Ember’s face and her voice kept swimming in and out of focus as it mixed with those of others, including Lycori’s. It didn’t take long until he blacked out, mumbling about how sorry he was for killing Ember and Max…
But there was no one there to hear him.
Chapter Twenty-Six
To kill for the betterment of society is to kill with the blessed hands of the gods. To kill for gold, for power, or position is to kill with the corrupt hands of evil.
FALCON YORSAIR, BROKEN BLADE HIGH COUNCIL.
BROKEN BLADE SAFE HOUSE
KYLL’DARHEN,
CAPITAL CITY OF TA’CERYSS
“You’ve gone fuckin’ mad, Falcon!” said Rithanien Lyos, staggering disbelief riddling every word. The Elvehn commander of the Broken Blade Assassins Guild, located in the Elvehn country of Ta’Ceryss, was more than shocked by what he was hearing.
“It’s true, Rith. I watched it with my own eyes. The council had that spook, Savis, kill Yrlissa. He darted her in the back of the neck from the s
hadows of the council floor. Merethyl all but told me she planned it and those spineless lapdog council members did nothing but give her free rein to do it. She needs to be brought before the commanders. She’s violated so many of our laws that I can’t even begin to count them any more,” Falcon said.
Rith forcefully rubbed the back of his neck and shook his head as he stared at the elder council member. “Now I know you’re fuckin’ crazy. You’ll never get the votes against her. Assani’s bloody blades, Falcon, you could be charged with treason! She’ll have you executed by blade burrow. The Goddess herself could show up during such a mess, old friend. Use your fuckin’ head and think about it.”
“Assani could care less about us, Rith. You know better than most that the gods couldn’t care less about Talohna. They haven’t for far too long, and I honestly don’t believe Merethyl could coax a broken blade to burrow anywhere. I’d be surprised if her dagger would grow back after she used it. I’m not a traitor. She is. Perhaps we should see if my blade will burrow for me?”
“There hasn’t been an execution like that in five thousand years, Falcon. No one even knows if our blades will still burrow into a traitor. It matters little anyway. Look, what do you want to do? Please tell me you’re not serious about trying to bring her before the commanders. It’ll only result in your death. You’ll never get the support, Falcon. Never.”
With no other choice and powered by the need for revenge, Falcon answered, “How many commanders are in Kyll’Darhen right now?”
“Just one. Tacarion Laralar from Dyryn. This is a bad idea, Falcon. You gotta reconsider. I’m warning you; this will not end well, for you or for the guild.”
Falcon shook his head and then grabbed his travel pack. As he turned to leave, he looked back over his shoulder. “Talk to Tacarion, and then meet me here tonight once the second moon is at full crest. This needs to be done. The guild needs to be aware that they’re nothing more than puppets at the end of Merethyl’s twisted strings.”
“Fair enough, Falcon,” Rith replied, with a sigh. “We’ll be here.”
Rith stared as Falcon hopped through the window of the run-down, long-abandoned, three-story home located on the outer edge of Kyll’Darhen’s noble district. Like a man a fourth of his age, Falcon rolled off the roof, onto a tree limb, and then leaped backwards onto an old stone gargoyle on the second floor balcony before dropping to the ground, landing with nothing more than a whisper.
Rith, shaking his head once more, turned to leave through the basement tunnel as he mumbled, “I’ll be sorry to see you die, old friend, but the guild no longer belongs to us assassins.”
DWARVEN RUINS, TAZAMMOR MOUNTAINS
Coming slowly back to consciousness with Lycori right beside him was starting to become a regular habit that Kael would have liked to put an end to. He knew there was nothing wrong with being nursed back to health by a pretty girl, even a pretty vampyr girl, but enough was enough. If he couldn’t stay conscious, how the hell were they going to figure out how to escape?
Lycori’s worried expression was the first thing he saw after coming around. “Thank the gods you’re all right,” she said, letting out her breath She smacked his arm hard enough for it to sting. “Quit doing this to me, jackass. It’s not funny, you know.”
“Yeah. Sorry, Lycori. Seems like everyone’s trying to kill me these days. I’ll work on that. Perhaps I’ll try being nicer.” He laughed sarcastically. Realizing his mistake too late, he coughed, choking down the pain as the collar grated along his nerves for at least the twentieth time.
“All right, take it easy, ya big baby. Rest. Bring him some water, grandfather,” she said, pointing to the water bucket beside Gabriel. He handed her a pitcher of water and then hung the pail on the bars. She hadn’t noticed him fill it the moment Kael started coughing. “Thank you. Here, Kael. Drink this.” She helped him get some water down and gently caressed his forehead. She kept going, using her fingertips to try to ease the pain in his neck and shoulders below the metal collar, taking care not to add to his grief.
Kael doubted that his wife would be happy about Lycori’s soft touch, assuming she was watching from beyond death’s door, but he was too exhausted to make a big deal out of it. Lycori had never implied or hinted at anything more than friendship, so he never worried about it. As the muscles in his upper body relaxed, it didn’t take long before he was close to sleep, his body craving it in order to heal.
Drifting on the border of deep sleep, several minutes passed before Kael was woken abruptly by banging and yelling inside the prison cell. He opened his sleep-heavy, blurry eyes as guards pulled him to his feet. The others were forced to the far corner of the cell at sword and axe-point, except for Galen, who was pinned to the floor by an Orotaq warrior right where the wizard had been sleeping. The two guards slammed Kael into the bars opposite the others as Grodin, Sythrnax’s short companion, lead three women into their cell. A fourth, very young, stayed outside the cell, but watched with intent eyes that missed little. Even without access to his magic, the evil radiating off the vile-looking women made Kael gag. All were dressed in black, hooded, soft velvet robes with several bulging pouches sewn into the sides. They approached Kael, and to his surprise, bowed.
“Master,” the first said. “My name is Arabella Ondoloth. The Cardessa has sent us to bring you home. We are the ones who brought you back to Talohna, but you didn’t appear at our end of the dimensional bridge. My apologies for how long it has taken us to find you.” She gently eased his head to the side checking the wounds made by the collar. “My apologies for your treatment, we just arrived. Had I been here this would not have happened to you. I will speak with Sythrnax personally.” The woman stared evenly into his eyes from a matching height. She was heavier, but not by much. Though she appeared to be in her fifties, Kael guessed she was much older. Her eyes held a cruelty he’d never seen back on Earth. Sweat broke out on his forehead, face, and neck, and a bone-deep, chilling fear grabbed his very soul.
After lowering her hood and pushing her long black bangs behind her left ear, she said, “This is my ternion’s second, Darthinia Xavor,” she said, introducing a short, but thin, Elvehn woman. Her long, flowing black hair finished the strong contrast compared to Arabella’s shaved head and long bangs.
Darthinia bowed her head slightly as she was introduced. “Our good friend, Sythrnax, told us of your arrival here, Master. I look forward to our time together.”
Kael gathered up what strength and courage he had left. “You brought me here?” he asked, struggling to keep his voice steady.
Arabella nodded and smiled. “Of course, and you are most welcome. It must have been horrible to be raised in such a cold, magicless world.”
Shocked at her words, Kael felt his anger flare to life like a familiar old friend. “So you are the ones who tore me from my home, and my life? Dragged me to this festering shit hole, and in the process killed the only woman I ever cared about? The only real family I ever had, and what? You want me to thank you for it? Are you fucking crazy?”
Again, Arabella nodded. “But of course, Kael. We are your Dead Sisters. It is our responsibility to teach you, to worship you, and to provide you with anything you desire, whether of the spirit or the flesh. We are here to serve you, Master, in any way that we can, in any way you wish us to.”
Lycori, held by crossed sword and axe, listened to the exchange from the far side of the cell. Though still under guard by two armed Orotaq warriors, she exploded with violence at the witch’s vulgar words. “Over my dead body will you do anything with him, witch! Don’t listen to them, Kael. They’re witches. They want something from you.”
Her violent outburst drove the guards back two feet as she lunged against their crossed weapons. The swordsman dropped his weapon. Grabbing her by the throat, he lifted her off the floor and slammed her full force into the prison bars. The razor-sharp points cut into her flesh and the silver burrs sizzled against her skin. The same otherworldly growl Kael heard the nigh
t he arrived erupted from her throat. He watched as her pale blue eyes flared with brightness and long fangs grew from her normal teeth, four from the top of her mouth and two from the bottom. Black talons tore from her fingertips as her hand raked the Orotaq’s chest. His grip on her throat lessened for a second too long and she broke free, biting and clawing with a primal, animalistic frenzy. The second guard snatched her by the hair and slammed her face first into the bars, repeatedly, until there was no fight left in her.
Gabriel struggled to help her, but exhausted from the Dwarven machine and with a Gyhurra collar around his neck, his feeble struggles amounted to little.
“Come on!” Galen yelled, still pinned to the floor under the massive weight of his guard. “You’ve made your point. Leave her alone.”
Arabella, ignoring the younger wizard’s outburst, turned on Lycori, whispering, as a putrid green and red magic formed in her fist. “You will behave, vampyr. Walking over your permanently dead body will not be a problem for me at all. We will do with him whatever he pleases. Killing you will take but a thought’s worth of my time,” the witch snarled.
Disturbed by seeing Lycori’s first full transformation, Kael’s high pitched yell caught everyone’s attention. “Do not touch her!” he screamed. To his surprise, Arabella distinguished the magic in her hand and turned back to him, all signs of her rage gone as if he had flipped a switch with his words.
