by AJ Ryder
“You had to be cruel to be kind,” Vylkur remarked gently.
“Yes, but that didn’t make it any easier,” Liandrya replied with a sigh before she paused in her steps. “Are the two of you absolutely sure you’re alright? I know that you healed the both of you, Vylkur, but...there were so many bruises and cuts.”
Dorlyn smiled and turned to face Liandrya after stopping. “Yes, my love,” he answered while lovingly brushing his knuckles over Liandrya’s cheek. “I give you my word that the both of us are fighting fit and ready for whatever may come.” He furrowed his brow as he began walking again. “By the way, what did you mean by what you said about the Lodestar?”
“Oh, you mean while I was bartering for our lives?” Liandrya asked cheekily. “I was bluffing, my love,” she lied smoothly. “Anfarwol be praised that Raeloun and his general didn’t call me on it.”
“Let it never be said that you lack a silver tongue, my dear,” Vylkur remarked with a fond smile and a small chuckle.
Liandrya smiled. “As I keep telling you, my beloved, my arrows and blades are not the only weapons I have at my disposal. Sometimes, all that is needed to stave off death is a well-placed and convincing lie.”
“Especially when one is hopelessly outnumbered,” Dorlyn remarked.
“And at an unfortunate disadvantage,” Vylkur added.
“Indeed,” Liandrya agreed with a nod.
“Here’s hoping they don’t call your bluff and come after us,” Dorlyn uttered.
Liandrya smiled serenely even as her stomach churned. If there was one thing she hated more than anything else, it was lying to her two mates. “They won’t.”
“You’re so sure of yourself,” Vylkur observed.
“Call it a hunch,” Liandrya replied simply.
They fell into a comfortable silence after that and quickened their pace. So much the better since they were trying to cover as much ground as they could before Morkessa’s next inevitable attack. Despite the comfort provided by one another’s closeness, the trio was nevertheless increasingly on edge as night drew nearer,
Especially Vylkur.
They were all exhausted from the hard pace they had set, but Vylkur was determined to not allow any rest until they were within the fortified protection of Carreg, the dwarven kingdom located within the vast mountain range known as Braisg’s Cradle. The fact that Morkessa had not attempted an attack on Anfarwol’s temple did not sit well with him. Knowing that his mistress was not one to sit idly by when what she desired was so very nearly in her grasp, he suspected that his former Mistress and mentor had taken the daylight hours to regroup and prepare for a larger attack after her most recent failure. Vylkur shuddered to think of what that could possibly entail, and as he and his loves engaged in their losing race against the setting sun, he was growing in his desperation to assure that his mates reached the safety of Braisg’s temple.
Located within the heart of Carreg, the Temple of Braisg enjoyed the same advantage of Anfarwol’s temple in the sense that it was heavily guarded as well as readily protected by the entire populace. The fact was that the dwarves were long accustomed to fending off attacks by the denizens of the Under Realm who constantly sought to gain a foothold in their territory. Even the Hierophant, the spiritual leader of the dwarven race, was a battle-tested veteran who was not above charging into battle with his mace held high if it meant driving back the forces of darkness.
If ever there was a place in which Vylkur and his mates could find safety, it was Braisg’s temple.
In regards to his appearance, a glamour charm would fix that easily enough. While neither he nor Dorlyn were considered criminals in dwarven circles, the fact that he was a dark elf was reason enough for the dwarves to kill him on sight. Unlike mortals, who were willing enough to give former denizens of the Under Realm the benefit of the doubt if they truly displayed a desire to embrace a new life, neither the elves nor the dwarves were so forgiving.
The bad blood between them simply forbade it.
“Please tell me we’re almost there,” Liandrya panted before hopping over a large log. Her legs trembled, and she had a cramp in her side, but she dared not stop. Already, darkness was growing as day began turning into night, and she needed to assure the safety of her loves. she had not saved them from death earlier that day only to lose them again.
“We’re almost there,” Dorlyn assured with a tense jaw as they approached the tree line. Once they left the relative safety of the forest, it was a mile to the mountain range. “Once we leave the cover of the tree line, we will be easy targets, so be ready to fight while we run.”
Drawing to a halt, Liandrya pressed a hand to her side and took deep breaths until her cramp subsided. Once it had passed, the half-elf rolled her head and cracked neck before shaking out her arms. Liandrya then drew her two longest daggers and twirled them before gripping them tightly. “I’m ready.”
Vylkur’s palm glowed as he passed it in front of his face. When he lowered it once more, it was to reveal that his ebony skin had changed to the same pigmentation as Dorlyn and Liandrya’s. “As am I.” He raised both eyebrows in question when he was met with shocked expressions. “What?”
“I don’t like it,” Liandrya said simply.
“Neither do I,” Dorlyn agreed. “That is not the man I fell in love with three hundred years ago.”
Vylkur could not help smiling, and his heart radiated warmth despite the direness of their situation. “I promise that it’s only temporary, my loves. Once we depart Carreg, I will do away with the enchantment and return to my perfectly handsome self.”
“Good,” Dorlyn and Liandrya answered in unison.
Liandrya kissed both her loves in turn. “For luck,” she said simply. “And simply because I love the both of you more than you could possibly know.”
Dorlyn smiled while arming himself with his shield and halberd. “Stay in the middle, beloved vixen. I will take point, and Vylkur will bring up the rear.” He became serious. “Now listen to me very carefully. If either of us becomes overpowered, you keep going. Do not stop running until you are safely within Carreg. Understood?”
“You honestly expect me to leave the two of you behind?” Liandrya asked incredulously.
“If it comes down to it, then yes,” Vylkur said. “You are the one carrying the mask. You are the one who must make it to the temple.”
“Now, unless they have changed things in the past three centuries, the entrance to the dwarven city should be dead ahead,” Dorlyn added. “If either I or Vylkur fall, you keep running until you reach it, and do not look back.”
Liandrya regarded both her loves silently before slowly breathing out through her nose. “Very well,” she said simply. “If we are overpowered, then I give you my word that I will finish the quest.”
“Know that we love you, no matter what happens,” Vylkur said fervently.
Dorlyn nodded. “Forever and always, Liandrya, our love.”
“And my heart will beat for the two of you until the very end,” Liandrya said fervently with a smile. She was now completely at peace with what she had to do if the situation demanded it. “Lead on, my mighty Dorlyn.”
Dorlyn clanked the head of his halberd against his shield before running out into the open at a full sprint. Liandrya followed close behind, and she heard Vylkur give chase behind her. Only the sound of their quickened breathing escaped their lips, for the three of them had said all they had needed to say and were now focused wholly on finishing the next leg of their quest.
They were not even halfway towards the mountain range when they felt the first tremor in the earth beneath them. It was easy enough for the nimble-footed elven-folk to keep their footing and keep running at their made pace, but the second tremor sent them all off balance.
“Shit!” Liandrya hissed as she pushed herself back up to her feet.
“Keep going!” Vylkur shouted as he returned to his feet only to widen his eyes moments later as the earth began to crack beneath them. “RUN!” he
bellowed while leaping over the widening crack. “MOVE!” The glamor charm had long since worn off as it took too much effort to maintain it under the present circumstances.
Liandrya grabbed ahold of Vylkur’s hand in a nearly crushing grip and dragged him along behind her as she tore off in a full sprint. She grabbed ahold of the back of Dorlyn’s tunic along the way and used her momentum to yank him to his feet.
“Fuck, Liandrya! Remember what we said!” Dorlyn shouted.
“Until I am left with no other choice, I will fucking fight to keep you two alive!” Liandrya shouted back angrily.
Liandrya let go of her lovers once she was certain they could manage on their own, but then all three of them were forced to stop when a giant spider exploded up from the earth. Easily five times the size of the spider Vylkur had encountered inside the Wizard’s Guild, the massive arachnid hissed and eyed the trio through its multiple eyes as venom dripped from its mandibles. Glancing briefly to the left and then the right, Liandrya saw a horde of goblins and orcs climbing up from the large cracks in the earth. They had them surrounded within moments, and they smiled wickedly at her and her loves while snarling and licking their sharp, crooked teeth.
“Shit,” Liandrya, Dorlyn, and Vylkur whispered together.
17
“So much trouble you have caused me, Liandrya. So much trouble.”
Glancing up, it was then that Liandrya noticed that Morkessa was, in fact, riding astride the gargantuan arachnid. “All part of my charm,” she replied cheekily with a smirk.
“Some may find it charming,” Morkessa sneered as she stared down at Liandrya with her two different colored eyes. “But I find it terribly inconvenient. You have inconvenienced me far more than my pitiful excuse of an apprentice ever could.”
Liandrya smiled and gave a mock bow. “I am infinitely happy to exceed your expectations, you wicked bitch.” She was forced to leap back when the spider lunged, and she landed in a low crouch a mere moment before Dorlyn struck the spider square in the face with a resounding clang of his shield.
“You’ll not lay a hand on either Liandrya or Vylkur,” Dorlyn growled as the arachnid screeched in pain and backpedaled a few steps.
“Ah, yes, the both of you seem to have found quite the use for my former pet,” Morkessa sneered. “Yes, he always was good at that, even if he never was much of an apprentice.”
“If not subscribing to your way of thinking made me a shoddy apprentice, then I am proud of that distinction,” Vylkur spat.
Morkessa laughed darkly while flipping her raven tresses over her shoulder as she narrowed her mismatched eyes. “I do hope the fucks he gave you were memorable, because they will be the last either of you will ever have.”
“Vylkur?” Dorlyn asked simply in a whisper as he saw the horde closing in around them from the corner of his eye.
“I know what to do,” Vylkur whispered back
“As do I,” Dorlyn added. “Liandrya, as soon as there is an opening, you run. Run and do not look back,” he whispered fervently.
“I will do what is needed,” Liandrya replied simply.
“I love you,” the three of them said together before leaping into action.
Liandrya stayed crouched low as Vylkur began electrocuting and setting ablaze clutches of the horde. With their mage lover otherwise occupied, Dorlyn focused his attention entirely on the spider. He kept himself protected with his shield while striking out with his halberd in between swift sidesteps and combat rolls.
It was then that Liandrya went to work.
Using throwing knives that were laced with venom and supplementing them with acid flasks that she threw at calculated intervals, the half-elf jumped, dove, and practically danced her way through the chaos to aid in the debilitation of their legion of attackers. Unfortunately, Morkessa was no fool, and began hurling spell after spell at Liandrya. At first, Liandrya was perturbed by the sudden wrench in her plan, but when one of Morkessa’s spells hit one of the orcs after Liandrya dove out of the way, the half-elf grinned conspiringly.
“Oh, yes,” Liandrya whispered before rolling, diving, twirling, and somersaulting in and out of Morkessa’s line of sight.
Spell after spell would just miss her and hit home upon one of the dark elf’s own forces, and Liandrya could not help but laugh and giggle with glee as the powerful sorceress assisted them in depleting her own forces. If Liandrya had not been so preoccupied with not getting hit herself, she would have taken the time to notice that Morkessa was neither annoyed nor angered by the turn of events as she continued playing into Liandrya’s little game with a knowing grin.
By fortunate happenstance amidst all the crackling lightning and debilitating plague, Liandrya found herself behind the arachnid, and instead of running for the mountains like her lovers wanted, she drew her bow and grabbed two arrows from her quiver before taking a running leap onto the spider’s massive and bulbous back end and using it as a jumping point to project herself high into the air. Notching her arrows to her bowstring as she flipped cleanly in the air, Liandrya winked coyly at Morkessa as she passed over her before taking aim and firing.
The arrows struck home and embedded themselves deeply in two of the spider’s eyes. Liandrya landed in a crouch just as the arachnid screamed and reared up, throwing Morkessa from its back in the process.
“Dorlyn, NOW!” Liandrya bellowed above the din.
Dorlyn lunged forward with a wordless battle cry and struck the killing blow to the arachnid’s soft underbelly. Blood and ichor burst from the deep wound once the wood elf pulled his weapon free, and the spider screamed before falling onto its back.
Smiling, Liandrya fired arrow after arrow into the orcs and goblins that were standing. When the last fell, she thrust her bow into the air and cheered. Not even Dorlyn and Vylkur stalking towards her with angry scowls could detract from her glee.
“You ignored the plan,” Dorlyn growled.
“Oh, yell at me later,” Liandrya said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “We’ve still got the puppet-master to deal with,” she said while motioning towards Morkessa who was rising slowly to her feet.
“Stay back,” Vylkur said softly while stepping in front of his mates. “Nothing is more dangerous than a desperate mage. Let me handle this.”
“Your powers have grown since we last saw each other,” Morkessa with what could only be construed as mild approval. “I still remember a time in which you could not take on such a heavy horde.”
“Three centuries of intense study tend to have that effect on a person,” Vylkur replied with a smirk as he took a few steps forward. If he and Morkessa were about to duel as he suspected, he did not want to risk his loves getting hit.
Morkessa grinned sinisterly from ear to ear, and her solid red eye began to glow. “Indeed, it does,” she hissed before extending one of her hand forward and then gripping the air. Moments later, Dorlyn went completely rigid with a pained gasp as he dropped his shield and halberd.
“NO!” Vylkur screamed before throwing a bolt of lightning at Morkessa, only to have his eyes widen at the sight of his former mentor catch it before hurling back at him. As he dove out of the way, he saw Morkessa twitch the fingers of her free hand before sweeping said hand upwards. He then looked on in horror as every single corpse slain by their hands rose from the ground.
Including the spider.
“Not possible,” Vylkur whispered in horror. As though Morkessa was not already one to be feared! “You never possessed powers of necromancy!”
“Three hundred years without my favorite pet made me bored,” Morkessa replied with a cackle before snapping her fingers.
The undead spider reared up and enveloped Vylkur from head to toe in webbing, and Liandrya and Dorlyn both watched and screamed in horror as the gargantuan beast crawled over until it was standing menacingly over the encased dark elf. When the other corpses began shambling and shuffling over to Dorlyn, Liandrya screamed wordlessly and drew her blades.
“You
think to try and fight a horde that cannot be killed by normal means? By all means, try!” Morkessa crowed before cackling. “Your punishment, you filthy half-breed, will be to watch helplessly as my minions feast upon your loves. Only when they have been utterly decimated, will I kill you and take the mask that rightfully belongs to me.”
Sheathing her blades, Liandrya turned her gaze to Morkessa. “That’s what you think,” she said while taking the box out of her satchel. Opening the box, she let it fall to the ground once she had taken the mask out.
Put on the mask.
“You cannot destroy it with any weapons or means that you possess,” Morkessa sneered. “And if you think that handing it over to me now will convince me to let the three of you go after all the trouble you’ve caused me, you are sorely mistaken.”
Put on the mask, Liandrya. Put on the mask, and all will be well.
