Bound to the Abyss

by James R. Vernon

  “We’re sticking to the road.” That had been Ean’s thought, but surprisingly Jaslen had been the one to voice it. “We’ll move faster if we stay on the road, and if we’re lucky, the Scar will be close enough for Ean to sense it. You can sense it, right Ean?”

  “What?” Bran asked, moving closer to Jaslen. “You heard what he said. We don’t want to be anywhere near that thing when the Seekers arrive, if they haven’t already.”

  “Bran, we’ve talked for years about how we want to have some connection to Ze’an. I know we can finally talk to Ean about him now, but this is something more physical.” She turned to Ean and gave him a weak smile. “Not that you aren’t connected to the Abyss in your own way, but this is something completely different. How can we not at least try to see it?”

  Ean nodded. “I completely agree, we should —”

  “Of course you agree,” Bran cut in angrily, rounding on Ean. “You would agree to anything she says.”

  The silence that followed was deafening. Bran apparently had not forgotten their conversation from the previous night, and the fact that he had even mentioned it in anger meant that he probably wasn’t too happy about how it had ended. Ean’s mouth opened, but he had no idea what to say. He just stood there, mouth agape looking like an idiot.

  “I didn’t mean that,” Bran finally said, breaking up the awkward silence. “I just meant you’ve heard everyone talking about how dangerous it is. We shouldn’t be risking it.”

  Taking a few steps away, he began to pace, the start of a scowl beginning to form on his face. Jaslen took a quick look at Ean, then the ground, and finally brought her gaze back up to Bran.

  “Of course, we …” she paused for a moment and frowned. “I mean, I understand how dangerous it is to try to get close to one of these Scars. I don’t take the warnings of practically everyone we have met lightly. But we’ll have Ean there …”

  Mistake.

  Rounding on her, Bran let out a harsh laugh. “Ean? Ean can’t even control the creatures he brings into our world. How do you expect him to keep us safe? To protect you!”

  The last words came out in a shout. Ean couldn’t help taking a step back. He had never seen Bran this upset before, and it was a little scary. Ean couldn’t even be upset. Everything he said was true. What would he do if something dangerous was around the Scar? What could he even do if the Seekers found them?

  Jaslen, however, was unperturbed. “He’ll do the best he can to protect us. Just like I know you’ll do the best you can to protect me.”

  Her voice had dropped to a soothing tone, one filled with affection. Stepping over, she cupped Bran’s face in her hands and kissed his lips. When she pulled back, he was smiling. “We can’t live in fear now that we are out in the world, love. Especially if we want to openly worship a God that most men fear.”

  “You’re right, of course,” he said, any trace of anger gone from his voice. “I think I’m just tired is all. I’m sorry for snapping at you, Jaslen. You too, Ean.” He extended a hand in Ean’s direction. “Forgive my small outburst?”

  Ean certainly didn’t consider the outburst a small one, but he had to forgive him. They would be traveling together for a while still. It would be uncomfortable to be spiteful towards him for one crack in his usually positive attitude. Plus, he did sound sincere. Taking his hand, Ean gave him a small grin.

  “Good,” Jaslen broke in. “If that’s settled then, we should get moving. As interesting as Kel and his Soulbearers were, they have slowed us down quite a bit. I say we try to salvage whatever we can from the stew, pack up and get moving again.”

  “Sounds like an excellent plan.” Bran quickly moved off towards their supplies. Ean looked over and caught Jaslen staring at him. He gave her an uncomfortable shrug and moved to follow Bran.

  They spent the next few moments eating as quickly as they could. They had lost about half of the stew in their mad dash to hide the campsite and its contents had grown cold. So to keep up their strength, along with a meager bowl they each took a small stick of jerky out of their supplies to eat while they traveled. Once they had finished with the stew, Ean stored most of their things back in his Pocket. With everything ready to go, they climbed back onto the road and started north again.

  As they traveled, the three remained silent. Ean wasn’t sure if there was still awkwardness from Bran’s outburst or if the other two were deep in thought. Regardless, he wasn’t going to try to get them talking again. If they started asking more questions about Ze’an that he couldn’t answer, he would look like a fool. Especially without Zin to help him out. The imp, of course, had disappeared again. He must have snuck off while they had been talking to Kel, because Ean couldn’t feel him anywhere nearby.

  Ean had always been able to count on Zin to provide some kind of distraction to get him out of trouble. Maybe Zin was still holding a grudge about how mistrustful Ean had been. If that were the case, Ean would make sure to give him a sincere apology the next time they rested.

  Unfortunately, the imp hadn’t returned by the time they stopped for the night. They set up camp a little further off the road this time, all three still going about their tasks in silence. They cooked another stew, this one with a bit of meat, and sat around without saying a word. Bran and Jaslen ate their meals quickly and walked off together, leaving Ean alone with his own thoughts for a time.

  As he gazed into the fire, Ean thought about the Abyss, or more specifically, the tattoos slowly growing up his arm. He had to stop questioning Zin’s motivations and just take his word that he had no idea the extent of what the tattoos were capable of. So, what did Ean know? He checked off each fact in his mind:

  He could now sense anything with even a remote connection or infused with a little energy from the Abyss as long as they were close enough.

  Magic runes and summoning circles appeared at a thought and no longer had to be painstakingly drawn or carved into something.

  The tattoos channeled energy directly from the Abyss, and he could release that energy into someone or something.

  It was that last fact that really gave Ean pause. He had seen what happened when a large amount of energy was pumped into a living creature. The change was permanent, or at least he had to think it was permanent, going by the corrupted troll that they encountered between Rottwealth and Rensen. Did that mean he could change anything permanently with the power? An even more troubling question was, could he somehow figure out a way to control how he changed things?

  Dark thoughts and images began to drift around in his mind. Bran transforming into a much less attractive man. Krane reduced to some whimpering, toothless dog creature. The Mayor of Rottwealth wallowing around in the mud, hooves replacing his hands and feet and a snout where his nose used to be. A dozen other faces of people that had wronged him distorted and deformed, bowing down to him.

  No, that was not the type of man Ean wanted to become. It was true, part of him wanted some measure of revenge on the people that had wronged him throughout his life, but he couldn’t imagine it at the cost of inflicting pain on others. At his core, he really was a Healer, someone that brought relief from pain, not added to it. A part of him even felt that smallest bit of remorse about the bandit he had changed, and that man had probably done some horrible things. Ean wanted to be someone people respected, not feared. His revenge would be finding success and acceptance, despite what his enemies tried to do to him.

  Holding on to that thought, Ean threw some dirt onto the fire to put it out, then moved into his tent. He wouldn’t let his newfound power turn him into the same type of person as Krane. Wrapping himself up in both that thought and his blankets, Ean let his eyes close. However, the last thing he pictured as he drifted off to sleep was of people kneeling before him.

  EAN WOKE WITH A start, forgetting where he was for a moment. His dreams floated about in his mind and kept him confused. Closing his eyes, Ean took in a deep breath and relaxed until he gathered his thoughts. He was in his tent. The tent
was off the road north of Rensen. Bran and Jaslen should be in their own tent, not too far away from his own. He was not a monster.

  …

  He was not a monster.

  …

  He focused on that thought for a long time. He needed to, in order to dispel the dream that was even now twisting his stomach.

  In his dream, he had been a huge, hulking creature, shaped like a man but much larger than any he had seen before. Larger even than the Taruun he had seen in Rensen. His body had been covered in some type of armor that was more rock and stone than anything made of metal. A large helmet sat on his head, a single piece of stone acting as a nose guard, dividing his face in half and hiding it in shadow. His eyes had been visible though, a dark purple that glowed out of the shadow created by the helmet. And the things he had done in that dream …

  …

  He was not a monster.

  …

  He got up, needing to do something—anything—so that the memories of the dream didn’t invade his mind. He changed quickly out of sweat-soaked clothes into fresh ones, even putting on a fresh pair of gloves. He tried not to look at his tattoos, which were giving off their usual dull glow. It was probably just all the talk the past few days about the energies from the Abyss changing things and what he himself had done to that man that had given him the nightmare. No need to dwell on it.

  He kept quiet through breakfast even though both Bran and Jaslen tried to get him talking. By the time they had everything packed up and were moving again, he probably hadn’t said as much as a dozen words to anyone. Bran and Jaslen took the hint and gave him some space as they continued on down the road. He should just put the dream behind him and go talk to them, but he couldn’t let it go.

  The images from his dream, so real that they felt more like memories, continued to run through his head. Horrible things. At one point, he had been changing normal people into deformed creatures, laughing the entire time. At another time, he had been savagely beating one of those creatures to the point that he killed it, all while the others watched.

  What bothered him most was that he recognized some of the people he had changed, including Bran and Jaslen. In the dream, Bran had sprouted a coat of shaggy black fur. He sat up on his haunches like a begging dog. Jaslen had become some sort of reptilian creature — curvy like a snake, but with stumpy legs and arms. There was no adoration in her eyes — only fear. And in his dream, he felt no shame about what he had done to them. No, Ean looked down on his creations and felt strong, unstoppable. He felt like a god.

  That’s what bothered him the most. To actually feel good about terrorizing other people was sickening to him. But what if that’s what his new powers were doing to him? They were making him powerful, that he knew, but what if they were twisting his mind as well? Or what if that horrible monster was who he really was inside, and the power was simply bringing it out?

  And his fears of changing Bran and Jaslen hadn’t originated with the dream. Ean knew his control over the power was limited at best. He certainly hadn’t meant to change that bandit. What if he slipped while he was helping one of them up? Or contaminated their food in some way? It was clear the glove he wore offered absolutely no protection. Ean didn’t think he could live with himself if he did something to Jaslen.

  But even with all of those fears, a part of him still wanted to grab that power, have it flowing inside of him. Ean knew it was wrong. It made his body ache, like eating way too much food. And it wanted to come out of him in a flood; it was a struggle just to hold it in and a flat-out death match to be rid of it. Yet it still called to him now, and he found it hard to say no.

  Those thoughts blanketed his mind, to the point that he had no idea how long they had walked when he first felt a tug inside of him. He stumbled a bit as a sudden fear gripped him. Had he grabbed the power without realizing it? He took a moment to steady himself and quickly realized it wasn’t that.

  Bran and Jaslen had stopped. Bran seemed ready to draw his sword and Jaslen had her bow off her back. They were both staring at him intently. Had the fear been easy to see in his face? Giving an embarrassed laugh, he raised both of his hands apologetically.

  “Sorry, must have tripped over a rock or something in the road. No need to worry.” The tug was probably just Zin getting close, but best to be sure. Could he tell the difference between the feelings he got near Zin and a Scar? He tried to make himself relax as he stood up straight. It must have worked because both Jaslen and Bran seemed to relax as well. “I guess I was thinking a bit too much. What time of day is it anyway?”

  “Probably about midday,” Bran said. “You seem a little dazed. Are you alright?”

  “Yes, yes, I’m fine.”

  “Are you sure?” Jaslen narrowed her eyes in concern.

  “I’m sure.”

  “You’ve been gloomy all morning. Between Bran yesterday and you today, I would almost believe that you snuck some Burnbeer last night and had a little too much.” She gave Bran a warm smile. “Although Bran did look a bit more pained.” That got a small chuckle out of the other boy.

  “I swear I’m alright. I was just thinking about those Soulbearers.” Well he had, very briefly, in between brooding over his dream. “I just find it extremely strange they would be banned from our home.”

  Ean’s real concern, though, was the tug he had felt. When Zin was nearby, he could feel the life of the little imp, like a small flame. This new feeling was different; it was more like a pulsing or a throbbing. Curiosity began to override all of the doubts and fears he had been feeling all day. If it didn’t feel like a living creature, the only thing Ean could come up with was that he was feeling the Scar. Even if it wasn’t the Scar that they were looking for, it had to be something from the Abyss.

  “… mentioned something about not being allowed into Rottwealth as well.” Bran’s voice cut through his thoughts. Had he been speaking the whole time? “It’s very strange that we have talked to two people now that have said they were barred from coming to our village. Who is making these rules, and why do they want our home cut off from everyone else? And what about The Merchant that comes every year or the Heroes that started showing up?”

  All good questions, and another time Ean would want to try and figure them out as well. The tugging at his body, though, had a tight hold on his attention No point in beating around the bush.

  “I feel a strong power off the road,” he said, pointing off to the left of the road and into the woods. “It’s hard to describe, but it definitely has a connection to the Abyss. If it’s the Scar we heard about, it means we’re close.” He wasn’t exactly sure about that last part. There was no way to judge distance from the feelings, but they didn’t need to know that.

  Bran looked skeptical, but Jaslen’s face lit up with excitement. “Wonderful! From what that Soulbearer had said, I thought it was much further up the road.” Grabbing Bran by the arm, she began to drag him in the direction Ean had pointed. “Come on, Bran! Just think, we’re about to see a direct connection to the Abyss.”

  Dragging Bran along, Jaslen began to hum happily as she started off the road. Bran looked skeptical, casting questioning glances back at Ean while he tried to keep up. “I think we should be a bit more careful in approaching this,” his voice cut off with a grunt as he kicked a rock he hadn’t seen on the ground.

  Ean caught up quickly and placed a hand on Jaslen’s shoulder. “He’s right. We don’t know if the Seekers are there, or some kind of mutated animal like that troll, or even something dangerous from the Abyss itself.” Zin’s warning about the Nar’Grim flashed through his mind and was gone. “Best if we approach it slowly and try to keep quiet as we do so.”

  Jaslen nodded, her smile diminished. “Fine, we’ll take it slow, and from now on we won’t talk. But if nothing is around when we get there, I’m not making any promises that I’ll remain calm.”

  She gave a self-satisfied nod then stared directly at Ean. After a moment of no one moving, she grunted
and raised her hands. “Well? If you can feel this thing, then you should take the lead. Let’s go already.”

  He couldn’t argue with that. Stepping around the two of them, Ean began to walk off in what he thought was the direction of the Scar. Or at least the direction of whatever was causing the tugging at the back of his mind. Glancing back, he caught Jaslen just as she was snatching Bran’s hand up into her own.

  Ean picked up his pace. The further away from the road they got, the thicker the forest grew. Thorny plants grabbed at his boots or hid logs or rocks for him to trip over. Here, where trees and vines grew uninterrupted, a beam of sunlight was rare.

  The closer they got to whatever it was that was causing the sensation, the more defined the throbbing in his head became. He almost tripped twice in a matter of a few paces apart because of it.

  Finally, when the pounding in his head was almost unbearable, they circled around a huge tree, and found it.

  The Scar.

  Hovering about fifty or so paces from where he was standing, the purple outline of an oval floated in the air a pace or two above the ground. Triple the height of the average man and twice the width, it sucked up the light around it, creating a black void at its center. Small streaks of dark blue energy shot off of it at random, creating jagged bolts that cut through the air. It really did look like a scar in the world.

  A gasp behind him let him know the other two had caught up, but he couldn’t pull his gaze away from the floating mass of energy. The area around it looked as if an enormous force had pushed out from the Scar in every direction. Trees were either leaning away from the Scar or had snapped as if from some great pressure. The devastation reached about halfway between where Ean was standing and where the Scar was hovering.

  “It’s beautiful,” he heard Jaslen whisper. “Let’s go closer.”

  Even though Ean could hear the desire to do so in her voice, she didn’t move.