by R W Foster
“Incredible,” I said, awed. “Why do we need a month of time?”
“Two reasons,” she said. “One, so Angriz and I may recover from our injuries. Two, we may begin teachin’ ye.”
“Teaching me what?”
“Angriz will be teaching ye more about th’ use o’ a sword. I will begin teaching ye about yer Moment o’ Prescience.”
“My what?”
“Yer Moment o’ Prescience. 'Tis an ability tae peer into the future, but only a few seconds. 'Tis what aided ye in yer recent battles.”
“How do you know this?” I asked.
“The night before we left her home, the Vaush-Tauric spoke o’ some awakenin’ powers ye might develop and gave me special stones so I might be aware of when this happens.”
“Oh really?” I said, pissed off. “What else did she tell you, and neglect to relate to me?”
“Carter,” she said, plaintive. “There is nae reason tae be angry. The Vaush-Tauric dinae do this tae be malicious. She could nae identify what abilities ye might develop. She only gave me some magic items which may identify them when they be activated.”
“Sure,” I growled.
I rose to my feet and stalked away from the fire. 'I'm fed up with being lied to and used. Who do these fucking people think they are?! They say they need my help, yet they keep secrets from me! This isn't how you get help from someone!'
I seethed in silence for a few minutes before I heard Angriz come up behind me.
“What do you want?” I said, icy voiced.
“You should not be angry with me, nor Keeper Dearbhaile, or the Vaush-Tauric. The one you should direct your anger against is Drago and his mysterious benefactor. They caused you to be drawn from your home. Had we a choice, you would still be there.”
My anger deflated and I became ashamed of how I'd reacted to my friends.
“You are right. I wasn’t fair in directing my anger at you. I'm sorry.”
“No apologies necessary.”
We headed back to the fire. I walked over to Keeper Dearbhaile and knelt before her as I had seen Japanese warriors do before their lords in movies: knees together, hands stretched out and together, bent at the waist with my forehead on my folded hands. I could think of no higher honor render as I prepared to beg her forgiveness.
“Keeper Dearbhaile, I thought wrong of you in believing you meant to take advantage of me. With the aid of Lord Angriz, I at last remembered you are not this kind of person. You do not wish me harm, nor to control me or my actions. Though I am unworthy, I beg your forgiveness for my thoughts and words.”
I waited for her decision.
“Carter, though I be hurt by yer accusations and misunderstandin’ o’ me intentions, I do nae hold them against ye. I believe I would feel tha same way in your place. Forgiveness be not for me to give because ye did no wrong. Nonetheless, if ye require me tae do so for us tae resume as before, I forgive ye,” she said.
“Thank you milady.” I rose to a seated position.
“Now tae other matters. Angriz, as Carter assisted me in setting up Stop-Time, he informed me ye met one of me attackers before. How is this?”
I had a lot of questions myself, but decided to wait for my answers. I remained at Keeper Dearbhaile’s feet while Angriz perched on the log next to the fire. He folded his arms and took a deep breath. He seemed to be gathering his thoughts. After a while, he began to speak.
2
“As you are aware, during my eighth summer, my mother was attacked by the red dragon named as Skoroth. After my father battled him, he left Skoroth's fate in my hands. The red informed me he had been paid to harm my family. He didn't tell me who, or why. On the flight home after I slew the red, my father initiated me into the ways of the ranger. He taught me to read sign - evidence of life traveling through a forest -, track my quarry and survive off the land. Other than those, I had no aptitude for the skills of a ranger. My father saw this and apprenticed me to a legendary Leviathan Warmaster friend of his named Mercado. This seemed to be something I was well suited for! Mercado protected an Ultimate Magus named Nicodemus Vasharin who I later learned to be his best friend.
“Mercado was twice my size. He had gray skin, broad shoulders and bulging muscles from a lifetime of swinging his massive sword. He had close cropped black hair, a jutting eyebrow ridge, wide jaw and glowing silver eyes. The Warmaster possessed gold studs in his brow just above each eye and almost always dressed in spiked ebony plate mail. A battle I never learned about left him limned in an eldritch blue light. He was a stern, yet fair, taskmaster. When I received disciplining, I did so for an infraction he'd already warned me of.
“I rose each morning before dawn and commenced my daily drills. They lasted until mid-morning, followed by my morning bath, then breakfast. After the morning meal, he would instruct me in various fighting forms. Each form expanded on the last. Mid-afternoon was another meal. Again, we washed. Later, I would practice what I had been taught earlier in the day and attempt to blend the lesson with what I had already learned. Mercado would watch and correct me on occasion, but for the most part, everything flowed with ease for me. This part of my training would last until sunset. I’d wash for the third time at this point and eat another meal, then I would engage in mock battles. Mercado called them mock, but I received my fair share of scars until my scales grew in. After they did, Mercado seemed to push me harder than ever before.
“Nicodemus also took part in my training, but only in creating constructs, mindless drones, for me to battle against. One summer, just before my nineteenth birthday, Nicodemus and Mercado went to town leaving me alone. I explored Nicodemus' tower as usual when I finished with my other tasks. I found the Ultimate Magus' laboratory to be unlocked. This had never happened before, and I was curious as to what was within. I snuck into the room, my heart pounding - I knew I was forbidden from entering the laboratory.
“Shadows and dimness filled the room with many different tables and shelves, covered with sheets of white cloth. I peeked under a couple, but couldn't make out anything. They were all hidden by magical darkness. Further in, near the back wall of the laboratory, I discovered a column of crimson light. Within this light stood the Demon King, Lucien. I recognized him from tales of my childhood.”
***
“I think all children grow up with tales o’ th’ Demon King,” said Keeper Dearbhaile.
***
“He was taller than Mercado,” Angriz continued, “And covered with a scaled, ebony hide. The crimson light surrounding him reflected off his skin. He had a crown of horns circling his head. His bat-like wings were furled against his back. His massive arms crossed his thick chest. He wore crimson leather pants and gold dragon hide boots. Electric blue-green eyes pierced to my soul. He watched me approach as if he had been expecting my arrival and smiled as I stopped just short of the column of light. In a voice as smooth as butter, he spoke.
‘Hello, Angriz,’ he said.
‘Hello, Lord Lucien,’ I said, cautious.
‘You have a question for me.’
‘I do.’
‘You wish knowledge of who your family’s secret enemy is.’
‘I do.”
‘I can assist you with this information.’
‘I’m not surprised. What would you want in exchange for this information?’
‘A small favor: a group of deep elves abducted my son. I would get him but for this,’ he gestured at the crimson light.
‘You are a father?’ I asked, surprised.
‘I am. By Zatanna, the Sorceress Queen of Amcorath.’
‘Why doesn’t she get him back?’
‘She is too preoccupied with becoming a lich,’ the Demon King stated.
‘Wonderful. And what do I do with your son once I rescued him?’
‘Nothing. He is able to fend for himself. After he is rescued, I will grant this information to you. Fair?’
‘Fair,’ I agreed.
“Due to the terms of my apprenti
ceship, I wasn’t able to look for Lucien’s son for another three years. However, soon after I began my search, I found he was being held in the Utterdark. At the same time, I found out about the deep elves. They are almost the epitome of evil. They had no understanding of mercy, kindness, or love - even for each other. They had no aversion to gore, filth, rape, incest or torture. They had an elected democratic council of elders, but they were figureheads and administrators because the deep elves had few laws. Each did as he, or she, wished and took what they could, believing one could keep what belonged to him only if he were strong enough to. Somehow, this organization worked.”
***
Angriz paused to take a drink of water. I took advantage to ask him a question.
“Why do you speak of the deep elves in the past tense? What happened to them?”
“Patience, my friend,” he said with a chuckle. “I'm getting to it.”
“Ye are aware yer deal was nae fair, don’t you?” Keeper Dearbhaile asked.
“I do now. Remember, I was only nineteen. I thought I knew everything.”
Keeper Dearbhaile moved with care until she sat next to me. He took another swallow, set the water skin down and resumed.
***
“I wasn't eager to head down to their village, but I had made a bargain. I followed an ancient map I had discovered in the back of a forgotten library to a cavern which led into the Utterdark. It would end with me being within a mile of the village where Lucien's son was being held. I gathered supplies and set off on my journey. It took me a month of travel from the town where I found the map but I located the cavern. The entrance was in the side of a cliff which fell to the sea below. Just as it was pictured on the parchment map, the cavern was shaped like a demon's skull. The opening was the mouth of the 'skull.' I missed the symbolism. It took another three days to reach the village. Nothing I had researched prepared me for the depravities before me.
“While I scouted the perimeter of the village, I saw my first deep elf. I couldn't tell if it was male or female. About the same size as Keeper Dearbhaile, the creature possessed a hairless head with the filthy pale green skin pulled so tight you could make out the features of its underlying skull. The creature was hideous. I named it Ugliness in my mind. He wore an iridescent outfit which resembled padded leather armor. He was approached by another who looked just like him. The two got into an argument, their chittering voices were high-pitched and piercing. Ugliness pulled a thin-bladed weapon which resembled a rapier studded with barbs and rammed the sword into the middle of the other one's gut. Ugliness pulled the blade out slow as the second grasped his shoulder and seemed to be begging. He laughed and twisted his weapon, sawing the sadistic blade in and out of its victim's body. Though I watched for about twenty minutes, the wounded one still didn't die. I slipped away and resumed my scouting, trying not to lose my last meal.
“It took me an hour to scout the village perimeter. I understood I would have to take extreme care after what I had witnessed a little while ago. During the hour, I saw fifteen murders, seven rapes, three robberies and a fire. I despaired, certain I wouldn’t find Lucien's son alive. When I made my way back to where I'd seen Ugliness, I found him seated and feasting on the flesh of the other. I moved with rapid stealth back towards the tunnel to the cavern and vomited. Afterward, I sat to attempt to come to terms with what I had seen.
“How do I begin to describe my thoughts about it? I was horrified: I had never seen anything like this before. My parents raised me to believe life is sacred. I was disgusted with myself for not doing anything to help the deep elf. I was also almost scared witless. I understood if I didn’t rescue Belial, Lucien wouldn’t give me the information I so needed.
“An hour flew by before I decided to deal with my disgust after my mission was complete. My father and Mercado would have been disappointed in me for allowing this to stop me for so long. I headed back to my previous position, resolved to advance. I knew I wouldn't be able to utilize the usual methods to find my quarry, so I began to run through other methods to get what I wanted. By the time I had reached the village once more, I had my plan. I would head into each building I found and look within. Any that attacked me would forfeit their lives.
“I had counted ten dilapidated structures on my scouting, so I slipped through the shadows until I was able to enter the nearest. It was empty, as were the next four I searched. I found Lucien's son chained to a wall in the fifth. He was filthy, covered in rags and had silvery blood oozing from different wounds on his face and arms.
'I'm Angriz,' I said. 'Your father sent me to rescue you.'
'I'm Belial,' he croaked. 'My asshole father sold me to these maggoty little worms.'
I felt my eyes widen and I shook my head in disgust. 'Why am I not surprised?' I said, almost to myself.
'I do not know, maybe because my father is the King of Demons? See if you can find the keys to these damned chains, and let's get out of here.'
“I was congratulating myself on having been so sneaky as I turned to find a key for the chains and discovered I hadn't been as stealthy as I had thought. The room was filled with deep elves. They had swords bared, pikes raised and axes ready to cleave.
“I drew my sword in a slow and deliberate manner and gestured over my shoulder at the half-demon. 'He's coming with me,' I said with a boldness I didn’t feel.
“The tallest of the nearby deep elves shook its head. 'Dinner not going anywhere.”
“I sighed. Somehow I figured the creature wanted a fight. I drew a deep breath to shout, hoping to freeze some of them in place as Mercado had taught. I felt a tickling sensation in my throat like I had to cough. I tried to clear my throat, forgetting I had filled my lungs for a shout, causing me to gag. At the same time, I lost the air in a violent exhalation. A gout of flame roared from my mouth, scorching my tongue and incinerating about twelve of the gathered deep elves. It also set the place on fire. The remaining deep elves shrieked in terror and bolted from the now burning building. I whirled around, searching for the key, but I couldn't find it.
“In an act of desperation, I raced over to the chained demon-spawn, gripped the red hot chains, and pulled. The heated metal seared into my flesh but was weak enough that it parted with only a little effort on my part. The room was an inferno; the super-heated air scorched my lungs. The walls were aflame and the exit was blocked by fire. Belial teleported out. I didn't want to burn to death, so I did the only thing I could think of which was to gather my waning strength and charge the nearby wall of flame. I exploded through it and hit the ground which was about five feet lower than the floor I had been on. My feet tangled and I slammed to the ground.
“After a second, I rolled to my feet and got ready to run, but discovered myself surrounded by deep elves. One tried to run me through with one of those barbed rapiers I noticed earlier. I raised my sword arm to block the strike, only to realize I dropped my sword when the deep elf's sword drew a furrow of pain along my arm. Roaring with the pain, I grabbed the elf's arm which was preparing to saw at my wound. My left fist locked around the wrist of the elf. At the same time, I slammed my right fist into its arm just beneath where I had my grip. The arm broke, causing the deep elf to shriek in pain. I ignored the scream and forced it to plunge its blade into its neighbor's heart. Next, I released my grip and punched the elf in front of me, breaking its nose. I lifted it bodily and flung it into its companions. With that few moments of breathing room, I bent and swept my blade into my hand. Clasping the greatsword in both hands, I scythed into the crowd of deep elves.
“Cruel, and evil though they were, the deep elves were no swordsmen. Their fighting style was more suited to mob fighting and sneak attacks. Against a trained warrior, they wouldn't have stood a chance. Against one who'd been trained by Warmaster Mercado, they were as grain at harvest time. I was Death personified as I danced through them. Their blades proved no impediment to my own. Whenever one of the rapiers was brought up to block, or deflect my assault, the weight of my
greatsword, and my own strength, shattered the thin blades. Soon, all had either fallen before me, or had run off.
“Belial reappeared beside me and congratulated me on my handiwork. I shrugged him away, and headed back to the surface. When I returned to Nicodemus' Tower, I learned I was no longer welcome within. While I was away, Lucien had been busy turning my teachers against me. The only reason I wasn't attacked by them, they said, was because of what was owed to my father.”
3
Angriz fell silent. I was ready to begin my questions, but before I could, Keeper Dearbhaile spoke.
“That's terrible,” she said. “Did ye at least get yer answers?”
“Not for a long time, and not from Lucien. I guess he comes by his title, ‘The King of Liars,’ honest,” Angriz said.
I chuckled, causing my friends to look at me with curiosity.
“The King of Liars doing something honest,” I explained. “Pretty ironic, don't you think?” Still nothing. “Never mind.”
“That was the first time ye used yer breath weapon, Sir Angriz?” Keeper Dearbhaile asked.
“Indeed,” he said. “I admit, I was a little burned up that my father hadn't told me.”
They both laughed at this.
“What the hell?!” I exclaimed. “Puns you laugh at, but not irony?”
“I'm sorry, Carter,” Angriz said, “But your joke had no humor.”
I growled, then decided to have my questions answered instead of debating jokes. “What is a Moment of Prescience?”
Keeper Dearbhaile seemed taken aback by my abrupt subject change, then shrugged. “’Tis a momentary glimpse into yer personal future, serving to alert ye tae imminent danger.”
“Great,” I muttered. “Of all Spider-Man's powers, I get the Spidey-Sense. I'd rather have the proportional strength of a spider.”
