Wanderer's Song

by P. E. Padilla

  Aeden was getting tired himself and wondered how many more battles they would have before even reaching whoever was in charge of this invasion.

  “Let’s go,” he said. “I’d like to finish this as soon as possible. No more healing unless it’s absolutely necessary, Urun.” The priest nodded and grunted as he came to his feet.

  There were more skirmishes as they ascended the tower, but not more than a few dozen animaru at a time. In the confines of hallways and rooms, Aeden didn’t have to use a lot of his magic. He almost felt guilty because one of his spells could do what minutes of combat could, and he could save his friends their efforts by using his stronger spells. The nagging feeling that he would need as much of his strength as possible for the final fight kept him from giving in to that feeling. They would all have to do their share. If he used his magic to save his friends’ energy, he might find himself unable to do what he needed at the crucial moment.

  As they neared the top of the tower, the creatures coming against them were fewer but also more skilled. For the first time, they met groups of animaru with weapons. Some even used magic. Aeden was glad Urun was with them to largely shield them from that. The one spell Aeden knew to create a shield was weak. He still hadn’t figured out the choreography for the enhanced spell yet.

  By the time they reached the chamber they had been looking for, each of them had blood dripping from one wound or another. Aeden had a gash just below his left eye and a larger cut on his right shoulder. It didn’t seriously affect his ability to move, but it was painful when he stretched the shoulder or moved his arm around too much.

  The staircases for the tower circled around the perimeter and could be entered by one of two openings in the wall, one opposite the other. As Aeden’s group wound their way up the structure, they crossed at a hallway that circled around the tower, doors punctuating the wall and allowing access to the inner rooms.

  On the level they sought—not the topmost floor, but close to it—there was no hallway circling the floor. Instead, a single set of double doors faced where the stairs emptied onto a landing. They pushed through and came to a series of small rooms. They looked like meeting rooms, not more than a dozen feet in any dimension and containing only a few chairs and tables. In two of the rooms, animaru looked up in surprise at their entry. It was the last expression their faces ever held.

  Aeden stood before a set of double doors unlike any they had seen. They were of dark wood, almost black, carved with the likeness of men and horses. The armor the men wore was strange, bulky and large. It made them look something like a wood stove, with helmets covering their entire head and face. How did they see to fight in that?

  He trailed his fingers along the reliefs. Even the wood was remarkable. The color was so dark and unusual, Aeden didn’t know if that was the wood itself or the effect of the age of the doors. He could feel this was what they had been working toward. Whatever stood on the other side of those doors was what he needed to face.

  Aeden looked at each of his friends. Their tired faces nonetheless showed their determination. He could see by the set of their jaws, their rigid posture, the glint of light in their eyes, that they were ready to finish this thing, like he was. He nodded to them and pushed the right door open.

  The room was large enough that Aeden had to turn his head to scan it all. The familiar deteriorating tapestries sagged on the walls, though the ones here seemed finer than those in the other rooms and halls. A large table was off to the side, covered with what looked like maps. Where did animaru get maps? Did they even use such things? Five chairs were arranged around the table. All the furniture looked sturdier than those items in the rest of the fortress.

  Standing at the end of the room, near a pair of large windows, was a woman. Rather, it was a female animaru, though unlike any Aeden had seen before. She wore the barest of clothing, making him think that she was a user of magic and not a warrior of weapons, though her body was sleek and toned, muscles shifting under her skin as she moved her weight from one foot to another. Her skin was lighter than any of the creatures they had encountered so far, a light blue color. Her eyes, ovals of faintly glowing pale blue, looked right at him. In those eyes, he saw intelligence. She was physically impressive, but her cleverness made him all the warier.

  “Du sas Gneisprumay. Mos samus en fini.”

  “She seems to know who you are,” Tere Chizzit translated. “She gives you the title of ‘First Enemy’.”

  “Mei dein impero ei ti dinoblare,”the animaru said.

  “She says she must destroy you. Her god commands it,” Tere Chizzit translated. He had barely finished the sentence when the blue-skinned woman made a gesture that looked like a salute and rushed them with speed that was hard to believe.

  Aeden whipped his swords out and—by reflex more than conscious thought—he blocked two curved, scythe-like blades she had pulled from somewhere. As she did, she mouthed words in that strange language of hers and her entire body began to glow.

  “She’s using magic,” Urun said as he raised his own hands up to bring forth his own. A moment later, he was thrown back like a doll that had been picked up and tossed aside. He struck one of the walls hard. Or at least, the shield he had created did. His body never actually touched the stone, but the impact still appeared jarring. The priest shook his head and stumbled to his feet.

  Aeden was too busy dodging and deflecting those curved swords to pay much attention to how the others were doing, though. He had judged her unskilled in combat because she wore no protective clothing. That was a mistake. She was so skilled she didn’t need protective clothing.

  If he wasn’t so fatigued from fighting the better part of the day, Aeden thought he might have bested the animaru, but in the condition he was in, he struggled to keep up with the lightning-quick attacks she threw at him. And she did it while fighting the others to a standstill with her magic.

  He caught glimpses of the others spinning away, being forced back by her magic while she focused on trying to kill him. Aeden thought she tried to attack him with spells a couple of times, but Urun apparently shielded him to minimize the effects. It was clear she was much more skilled than Aeden in using her magic while fighting.

  A pair of arrows whizzed by Aeden, on course to puncture the animaru’s head. She moved her head slightly, just enough for one arrow to slip by without grazing her, and she did something to cause the other to veer off and ricochet off the wall behind her. It was clear that even together, they would need more than luck to bring her down.

  A knife flew through the air at Aeden’s foe at the same time Raki came out of the shadows just to the rear of the creature. A flick of the hand turned the knife around in midair and sent it turning end over end to embed itself in Fahtin’s leg. The Gypta screamed in pain and fell to a knee. Raki was lifted up by some invisible force and tossed back toward the window. They were two dozen floors up. A fall from that window would be fatal for sure.

  As Aeden watched the boy’s body travel through the air, a dark silhouette hurtled from the edge of his sight and intercepted Raki, bearing him to the floor with a grunt. Both Aila and the young Gypta boy skidded across the stone, ending in a tangle of arms and legs.

  The distraction was enough for Aeden to land a slash to the animaru’s forearm, cutting deeply enough that she dropped one of her own swords. She hissed and batted away his next attack with her remaining sword.

  Aeden kept the pressure up, his swords blurring as they struck over and over from all different angles. It was easier to manipulate his movements to follow the choreography he had made for his spells when only fighting one opponent, so he went through the gestures and gyrations of Dawn’s Warning, faster than he had ever done so before. As he pronounced the words, his foe let out a small gasp, as if she was surprised by it.

  He said the final word, coupled with the downward chopping motion that went with it. Light exploded out of him, catching up the blue woman and throwing her against the wall.

  Whe
n the light dimmed and Aeden could see again, he saw his enemy, standing straight, back against the wall, eyes afire like a pair of blue flames, staring at him in defiance.

  “I have her held,” Urun said. “I could only do it because you weakened her with your spell. I’m not sure how long I can hold her.”

  “I won’t need long,” Aeden said. He began to cast Dawn’s Warning again, going through each motion carefully and smoothly, clearly enunciating each word in the rhythm and cadence he had determined to be ideal. All the while, the animaru stared at him, occasionally testing the invisible bonds that held her.

  Aeden pronounced the second to the last word and moved into the last set of gestures, preparing to pour all his magic into one pinpoint attack that would utterly destroy the creature before him. A part of his mind marveled at her composure in the face of what she had to know was her own annihilation.

  “Wait!” Urun said. “Stop.”

  Aeden let the spell die, the last word of power dropping from his lips, unsaid. The Croagh looked over at the nature priest.

  “Why did you stop me?”

  “I…sensed something,” Urun said. “I was delving into her, trying to discover what I could about the dark magic they use.”

  “And?” Aeden asked, his lips pursed and fist clenching from the interruption.

  “And I detected the presence of another magic. One that’s different than her own. Magic from this world.”

  That caught Aeden’s attention. “What does that mean?”

  “I think she’s been affected by powerful magic from this world. Maybe powerful enough to control her actions. I think I can remove it, if you would like me to. It’s a form of life magic, which is why it could affect her, probably.”

  “I don’t see a need to—” Aeden started.

  “Aeden,” Tere Chizzit interrupted. “Maybe we can get some information from her. At the very least, we may be able to find out how many other animaru are out there, and where.”

  “Fine.”

  Urun closed his eyes for a moment, mouthing something Aeden could not hear. When he opened his eyes again, they drilled straight through the animaru, who met his stare with her own pale blue orbs.

  She convulsed suddenly, and then her body slumped. The animaru shook her head and then stood up straight again. Aeden had to hand it to her, she was regal in the face of enemies who were about to destroy her.

  She said something in her own language. Aeden looked to Tere Chizzit.

  “She said something about a human. Izhrod Benzal. He brought her here, as part of some agreement with her god, S’ru. She is S’ru’s high priestess, it seems. S’ru can’t come to this world because there is so much life and light. She was to prepare the way for him.”

  “And she would do that by slaughtering every living thing in our world?” Aeden said. Tere fumbled for the words for a moment, but it seemed the animaru understood him and responded.

  “She says it is not unlike the warfare that is constant on her world. The defeated are weakened for a time but then recuperate to wage warfare again…” The blind man’s mouth dropped open as he listened. “Oh,” was all he could say.

  “What is it?” Aeden asked. “What did she say?”

  “She is saying that the animaru never die. At least, they never did before. They are all thousands of years old. If they are defeated, they are weakened, like she said, but they continue to live. She doesn’t really understand how we can destroy the animaru so that they don’t live again. It saddens her to think of them gone forever.”

  Tere spoke haltingly to the blue woman. As he did, Aeden looked her over. He could see it, there, in her bearing. It was easy to believe she was a high priestess. The way she held herself, even bound and facing death, a death she didn’t really comprehend, and the way she acted. She was used to command, comfortable with it.

  As Tere continued, those pale blue eyes grew wider and she leaned toward him, focusing on his mouth, listening carefully to every word. She began to speak then, words rapid and chopped. If she hadn’t been restrained, Aeden had no doubt that she would be gesturing wildly with her hands as well. The blind tracker put his hands up and gestured for her to slow down, motioning as if he was pushing something downward. He said a few words as he did so, and the animaru slowed her speech so Tere could understand her. She was still breathless, though.

  “I just explained to her that we are not reborn, or respawned, as some of them are, the ones with a talent she calls the twinkling. Those are the ones that disappear when they’re killed. They reappear at their birthplace on their world. I told her how when someone takes our life, we are dead, gone forever, we cease to exist. You can see the horror she feels over that from her expression.”

  She continued to rattle off words in her own language, Tere stopping her and saying things of his own. When he was done, he turned toward the others.

  “She had no idea, believing that those she killed would be weakened and then try again later. That’s one of the reasons she tried to push so hard. Time is limited if you have to fight the same enemies over and over again. The ending of existence, though, was something new to her. She was horrified by it. She says that surely her god would not require this service of her. He is a strict and vengeful god, but he is not petty. He respects others’ right to exist. It may be, she said, that she has misunderstood her orders as relayed through Izhrod Benzal. She has never trusted the man.”

  “So, what,” Urun said, “we’re just supposed to trust that it was all a big misunderstanding and let her go free?”

  “Not exactly,” Tere Chizzit said. “She wants to join us.”

  58

  “She what?” Urun Chinowa said.

  “You heard me,” Tere told his old friend. “She wants to help us to prevent the destruction of all life on our world.”

  “You have to be kidding us,” Aila chimed in.

  “Not at all,” Tere said. “Her confusion and dismay are genuine, believe me. Magic runs through her body, and I can read its signature. She truly didn’t know that we were being killed permanently. She believed that to take the life out of us would make us like them, lifeless but existing still. I think she is sincere in wanting to help, too.”

  “Why would you say that, Tere?” Aeden asked.

  “She is very religious, obviously. She’s a high priestess. She interprets the will of her god from what he has shown her over the last several thousand years. She believes that if he knew that permanent destruction was being brought upon the humans, he would not order his followers to participate. Lacking direct contact with this S’ru, her interpretations of what he would want are law to her. She will search out Benzal by herself and kill him, eliminating any animaru along the way who insist on killing. It’s not just my opinion. I can read her magical signature, her aura. I believe she was a pawn in this. A very powerful pawn, but still being controlled by others.”

  Aeden stepped closer to the animaru. She stood head and shoulders above him. As he moved, her glowing eyes followed him and drilled into his when he stopped. He made a show of looking her over, from her sandal-clad feet all the way up to her tufted gray-blue hair.

  “Aeden,” he said, pointing to himself.

  “Gneisprumay,” she said as she pointed toward him. A small smile formed on her lips, looking a little awkward below the barest hint of a nose, almost just slits in her face for nostrils. She pointed toward herself and thumped a fist to her chest. “Khrazhti.”

  Aeden had Urun release the binding on the animaru, after arguing with the priest for several minutes.

  “Tere,” Aeden said. “Ask her to swear that what she is saying is the truth, that she will aid us in protecting Dizhelim from the other animaru, and that she will accept my leadership, in the name of her god S’ru. Will that bind her to the purpose, do you think?”

  “I do.”

  “Good. Explain it to her, please.”

  Tere began to talk to her in her own language, or at least in the Alaqotim he knew
. He stopped and looked toward Aeden. “I can’t for the life of me remember how to say ‘swear’.”

  Aeden swore.

  “Not that type,” Tere said, “The other type.”

  “Iurare,” Raki said. “That one always stuck with me for some reason.”

  “Oh, yes, that’s it,” Tere said. “Thank you.”

  After his explanation, Khrazhti nodded and looked at Aeden, seeming to speak more formally than earlier. Both Tere and Raki listened to her carefully, and the others watched her, Urun with no less intensity than any of the others. As she finished speaking, Khrazhti made that salute again, thumping her chest. Apparently the heart was something by which the animaru swore by as well. Interesting.

  Aeden returned the gesture and Khrazhti smiled a full smile. Her teeth, white and straight, were a shock to Aeden. For some reason he had been expecting fangs.

  “What do you think?” Aeden asked Urun Chinowa. The priest was still looking at the blue-skinned animaru, but now his expression wasn’t distrust or disgust but curiosity.

  “I could actually see the magic swirl and settle upon her when she swore,” he said. “She will keep to her vow, though I’m still not sure if it was the right thing to do.”

  “Time will tell, I imagine,” Aeden said. “For now, we should probably get our gear and leave before the other animaru return. I don’t think they will share Khrazhti’s sentiments about ending human lives. We have work yet to do if Izhrod Benzal is still out there selling our world to another.”

  They left the fortress, traveling south and west, planning on swinging north again toward the Hero Academy. Aeden hoped they didn’t run into the main force of animaru. He knew he would have to deal with them eventually, but for now, it was enough to regroup and decide what they would do next. Looking at the tall, pale blue creature from another world walking beside him, he wondered what the future held. Despite having an ending of sorts, he had a feeling his quest had just begun.