"Insane?! INSANE?! This world is insane. I am not the one that is insane." Spittle flew from Sadiek's mouth as he raged, contradicting his statement. "It is a shame you will not be alive to see my Master's return. To see how he sets this world right. When he is done, the way the world seems now will look insane. And if the people of this world fight the change too much and refuse to become a part of a better future, my Master will wipe them from this world, and we will start anew."
"The gods..." Each word was painful, but Ean wanted to keep pushing the man. It was the only act of defiance he had left. "Will never...let that..."
"The gods are impotent!" Sadiek screamed. "They are worthless and petty. The gods will be brought down just as easilllluuurrrkkkkk!"
A sharp pain pierced Ean's right leg just as a gurgling sound escaped Sadiek's mouth. It was nothing compared to the constant explosion of pain in his chest, but it was strong enough for him to notice. Looking down while trying his best not to see the damage still being done to his body, Ean's eyes went wide as he saw the top of one of the wooden flag staffs sticking into his leg.
Even more surprising was that the rest of the staff seemed to be coming right out of the middle of Sadiek's chest.
The pain in Ean's chest magnified as Sadiek suddenly threw out his arm, effectively dislodging Ean from the blade and sending him tumbling away. Ean was only in the air a moment before he crashed to the ground, hitting the stone floor hard. It probably would have hurt if the pain in his chest wasn't making the rest of his body feel numb. Coming to rest on his right side, Ean had the perfect view of Sadiek.
Standing behind the grotesque man, Azalea had both of her hands wrapped around the bottom of the flagstaff, a grim look of determination on her face. Even through slightly dimming eyes, Ean could see Azalea's legs wobble as she held herself up by the staff she had rammed through the back of Sadiek. Ean couldn't feel her through their bond but just by looking at how hunched over she was and how her body trembled, he guessed she was barely conscious as well.
Sadiek suddenly spun, the pole through his chest spinning with him and sending Azalea tumbling to the side. The Yulari didn't hit the ground that hard, but when she stopped rolling she didn't get up.
Sadiek did not seem to have any intention of going after her or Ean with a long pole sticking through his body. Letting out another gurgle, Sadiek stumbled away, heading in the direction of an exit out of the room. As he moved, the blades that used to be his forearms and hands began to shift. By the time the man was through one of the doorways, Ean could just make out the beginning of finger bones growing back into place.
With the main threat gone, Ean tilted his head slightly enough so that he was able to see the hound. It was still lying on the ground, breathing heavily but also seemed more relaxed. The wound in its stomach appeared to be healed although the fur was gone and a large, jagged scar was still visible. But it looked at least like the hound would live. Happiness for small victories.
The knowledge that the hound, and probably Azalea, would survive the day helped Ean relax. As much as the pain would allow. He kept his sight locked on the hound, having no desire to watch as life literally bled out of him.
It was strange for Ean, knowing he was going to die. What little energy he had left he funneled into a rage. He glanced down at his right arm, which was spread out in front of him, and at the runes covering it. They no longer glowed, the energy of the Abyss completely gone. Getting that tattoo had effectively sealed his fate. It had been the driving force behind every choice since he got it and ended in his journey here. No, the day he had summoned Zin for the first time had been what led him here. The imp, always convincing him to do foolish things, always getting him in trouble. If anything was to blame for Ean's death, it was that cursed imp. He wasn't even here to say goodbye. Better that he wasn't, he would probably spit in the imp's face...
No. It's not Zin's fault.
Ean let the anger drain out of him. No one was to blame, especially not Zin. Any trouble Ean had gotten into because of the imp had always been minor, a minor punishment from Cleff, a short beating from a bully. The other villagers had already looked down on him even before the imp had arrived. No, if anything Zin had been the reason he had lasted as long as he had in Rottwealth. Having Zin around had kept him sane, kept him from going down a darker path. He had certainly kept Ean from summoning anything that would have razed the entire village.
Zin truly was his best friend.
"Sorry I can't keep you from the Abyss..." Ean murmured.
"That doesn't look too good."
Speak of a friend, and he will come.
Walking into view, Zin's attention was completely on Ean's stomach. By his wide, downturned eyes and sad frown, Ean could tell the imp knew how bad things really were. He sat down a pace or two away from Ean's face, although his gaze remained on the wound for a few moments more.
"I'm sorry I couldn't help. I got here in the middle of the fight..."
"It's ok, Zin...."
"I tried to get close, bite him, claw a leg, but you both were moving so fast..."
"Nothing you could have done..."
Zin opened his mouth as if he was about to say more, then closed his eyes and sighed. When he opened them again, they returned to Ean's wound.
"That's not something you can just walk off, is it..."
"No..."
"What if we found some medicine, wrapped the wound, and did something..." There wasn't a drop of hope in the imp's voice. "There could still be something around here that hasn't been looted that you could use."
"It's fine...Zin...I know..."
Hanging his head, the imp looked down at his hands. They were clasped together instead of his usual nervous trait of rubbing them together. Ean and Zin sat there in silence for a few moments before Zin finally raised his head.
"So, I guess we should say our goodbyes then."
"Yes."
Silence.
"Well, this is horrible."
"Zin... you don't..."
"No, no, I do have something I want to say."
The imp stood, glancing quickly at Ean's wound, and then looking away just as fast. Shaking his head, Zin made an obvious effort to look Ean in the eyes.
"Alright. Since that first time you brought me back into this world, I know we haven't always seen eye to eye..."
Ean grunted.
"Let me finish!" Zin growled. "Now, like I was saying. We haven't always seen eye to eye but I have always respected you. The way you tolerated how you were treated in Rottwealth. Well, it reminded me of how all of my kind are treated in the Abyss. Like the lowest form of life. And you stayed strong, just like I stayed strong during my years of captivity."
Zin began to pace as he continued.
"I never talked about the more than one hundred years I was enslaved to one of the Nar'Grim, and this moment certainly isn't the time to start. But seeing what you went through in Rottwealth and how strong you stayed was like looking into a mirror. Well, a broken one at least that distorts your appearance. Anyway, that's how I knew I could trust you. And how I knew that eventually I could show you how to apply those tattoos."
"They didn't...help much..." Ean was able to get out weakly.
"Right..." Zin paused a moment, then continued on. "Anyway. It's important that you know that I trusted you completely even though you didn't always trust me. I have always tried to act in your best interests."
"I know."
"Good. That's important."
The imp stopped moving, but kept his gaze ahead leaving the room mostly silent again. Besides Ean's own labored breaths and the sounds of the Yaeger's heavier breathing. The flames in the torches hanging from the walls seemed to dance around silently as they bathed the room in light. How peaceful. He could close his eyes for just a few moments...
"Anyway, hey, HEY!" Two small hands started shaking Ean and he opened his eyes. They were so terribly heavy and the stone floor was so cold, maybe Zin could find him some
straw or something else he could use to cushion his head...
"Stay with me for just a moment longer." Zin was right in his face now, his legs crossed as he sat near Ean's hand. The imp's hands were clutched together almost as if the imp was in prayer. "I just want to say that I know you would never become the monster that used to call this place home. You are a stubborn and difficult person, but you also have shown how much you care for the people in your life, even if they are not human. Your acceptance of Azalea and me, and even that stupid hound, shows what kind of a person you are deep down. And that person would never turn into the monster that was my former master in this world."
"Thanks...Zin..."
"Yes, well, enough of this mushy stuff, I think. Best to say our goodbyes while you still can." His voice took on a nervous edge, which Ean barely noticed. It was hard for him to focus on anything at the moment. He just wanted to sleep. "How do you humans say goodbye? Shaking hands? Can you manage that?"
"Sure." His arm didn't respond at first. It felt asleep. Probably because of how he was lying. After a bit of a struggle, he was finally able to lift his right hand up slightly off the ground and hold it out to Zin.
"Goodbye, Ean." The imp grasped his hand tightly and gave it a good couple of shakes. Even with his entire arm and hand mostly numb Ean felt a sharp pain. Had the foolish imp grabbed him too tightly and sunk his nails into Ean's hand? No, the pain was on Ean's palm.
Zin let go of Ean's hand and it dropped to the ground. Ean simply did not have the energy to keep it up. It smacked on the stone floor, Ean's palm opening face up. Something was resting in his hand. Trying his best to focus, Ean saw what looked like a small piece of stone sitting in his hand. It was black and scarred, just like the sphere in the center of the room. Strange. Why had the imp--
A flash of white light, brighter than anything Ean had ever seen seared his eyes. Seared his brain. Seared his soul. White fire engulfed him. His mouth opened to scream, but the fire took him, burning him away to nothing.
THE CROWD LET OUT another cheer as Bran was lifted into the air. Men and women alike boosted him up, while those around them pushed tables and chairs out of the way to get closer to him. Every single villager of Rottwealth was crammed into the Golden Coin to celebrate their hero. The monster that had plagued their small village for an entire season was finally dead, its head hanging over the bar as a monument to Bran's accomplishment. The sound of the cheering crowd floated out of the open windows of the inn and echoed off the mountains surrounding the small village.
Bran let out a laugh as the crowd began to pass him around, although it sounded forced to anyone that was paying attention. No one was. Many of the villagers had started celebrating early in the morning when the news of Bran's victory began to spread. Even though the monster had been slain the night before, Bran's father had made sure that he had all day to plan the true celebration for his son's victory. He also wanted to make sure his son was as healed up as possible, and practically had him bathed in a Rottwealth salve. He had used most of what his wife had been able to salvage from Cleff's destroyed home, although she had left Cleff's body under the rubble where she had found it.
Branston the First was behind the bar, making sure the drinks were flowing and the money was coming in. His wife mingled with the crowd, saying repeatedly, "That's my son. The boy I raised to be a Hero."
"What a fine job you've done with him," one of the other mothers would say."
"You should be so proud," another man added.
She wore the biggest grin, puffing out her already ample chest even more. Both of Bran's parents' smiles grew as the crowd began to yell out in praise of Bran.
"To Bran! The slayer of beasts!"
"To the Savior of the Village!"
"Bran for Mayor! Bran for Mayor!"
The last chant quickly wiped the smile from Branston the First's face. Apparently the elder Branston wasn't ready to hand over his power to his son quite yet.
Eventually the crowd let the hero down and the back slapping by the men and cheek-kissing by the women began. Bran was passed around more than a newborn baby, a fake smile painted across his face the entire time. More than one girl swooned in his presence. A couple of cheeky older women whispered suggestively in his ear, bringing a blush to his cheeks. They all seemed ready to take advantage of Jaslen's absence. The men on the other hand all wanted to see his blade, a strange sword made of stone that weighed less than a handful of flowers. No one seemed to be talking about the two companions that had left with Bran at the beginning of the season and were absent now. No one even seemed to notice.
Well, no one except Zin.
Zin could see it all from his spot on one of the window ledges. See the fake smiles and insincere congratulations. Sure, many were happy to be free of the beast, but Zin saw a lot of jealousy in the faces of many of the men. If Azalea was here, Zin was sure she would be drinking deeply of all of the unpleasant feelings that were drifting around the room.
Azalea. That girl was even more trouble now than she had been before. Zin knew that having her wings ripped from her body had to be the most traumatizing experience for her, but a Yulari that was afraid to be in a crowd? It was like finding a hound that didn't want to eat. And the hound. That creature had been almost impossible to herd along back to Rottwealth. Zin had wanted to just leave it behind, but oh no. Azalea wanted it for protection. Like she couldn't rip apart most humans with her bare hands.
Zin let out a grunt of disgust. A patron that was sitting near the window turned to look around, glaring at the window and out into the night but didn't see the invisible imp. With a shrug, the man turned back to the excitement inside the inn. Zin had almost hoped the man had seen him. Biting one of these humans might improve his mood a bit. Instead he was left to simply shake his head at the whole affair inside before he climbed out the window and landed easily on the dirt below.
With the entire village packed into the inn, the streets of Rottwealth were completely empty. Even the small torches that sat in front of each home on the edge of the main road were dark, making the light of the moons the only thing lighting his way. Not that he needed even the moonlight. His eyes were well adjusted for the dark. But he should be off, things to do tonight after all.
Zin casually strolled down the street, thinking about what this night could mean while keeping his eyes open for a stray meal. One or two rats would be perfectly filling, and with the village so dark at the moment, they should be brave enough to be out and scurrying around. It wasn't until he had reached the south edge of the town square before he finally caught sight of one. It led him on a merry chase but eventually Zin caught it and sat for a few moments to enjoy his meal before continuing on.
The blue moon hovered in the northern sky, while the green one climbed into the eastern skyscape opposite the red moon just starting to rise in the west. Still quite a bit of time before midnight. Not that midnight had any significance other than the fact that the partying villagers would be too sloshed to notice a Yulari and an imp strolling through town.
Zin paused as he reached the ruins of Ean's old home, feeling slightly nostalgic. It had been his old home too after all, maybe not for as long as it had been Ean's but still for many years. From what he could gather from eavesdropping on the villagers, something had set the lizard creature off one night and Cleff's home had simply been the first thing it reached. A shame really, both in Cleff's death and how little respect he received.
Zin had been there to watch as Bran's mother sifted through the rubble like a vulture, picking up whatever she had thought was useful and not giving Cleff's body a second glance. Zin knew Ean would have been heartbroken to see what had happened. The boy seemed to respect the older man, if not love him like a father. To have Cleff left like that in his makeshift tomb instead of properly buried surely would have angered Ean to say the least.
"Oh, well," Zin said aloud. Ean wasn't here to see it. No point worrying about the past, the future was going to be difficul
t enough to worry about.
Leaving the ruined house behind him, Zin followed the path to the marsh, and then followed the edge of the marsh to the mine and the cabin where the foreman used to work before the madness of the lizard creature began. Walking up to the door, he knocked on it a few times, trying not to get angry at the fact that the door knob was placed high enough that it was out of his reach.
"Who is it?" Came a reply from inside, the feminine voice trembling with each word.
"Obviously it's me, Azalea. Open the door and get out here. All of the villagers are far too busy to come down here tonight."
The door opened slightly, a purple eye appearing in the gap and took a quick look around. Seemingly satisfied with what she saw, Azalea opened the door the rest of the way. She had shed the appearance of the common girl that she had been using for most of the trip and looked her full Yulari self, minus her missing wings.
"What, you think I would bring a bunch of people here just to mess with you?" Zin said, slightly annoyed.
"You mean like how you tricked me into entering that 'abandoned' house in Wethrintir and I found myself walking into the middle of a gathering of housewives?"
Zin couldn't help but laugh. The Yulari had run cowering from the building and right out of town. It had taken him the rest of the night to find her.
"Ok fine, but do you honestly think I would mess with you on a night like tonight?"
"Yes," she replied in a pouty voice.
"Stop being a baby and let's go." Glancing around, he frowned. "Where is the hound?"
"I let him go explore the mine. He was growing restless in the cabin here and was starting to gnaw on some of the table legs."
"Whatever." Turning his back on the Yulari, Zin walked towards the mine. He could feel the Yulari's eyes on his back, but was not surprised when she came jogging up and fell in at his side. They both stayed quiet as they walked into the pitch black opening of the mine, the gravity of what they were about to do hanging heavily on Zin. The Yulari's mood had been impossible to predict ever since her mutilation. She now behaved differently than any Yulari he had ever met. In some ways he found her more pleasant, but mostly she made him more wary than ever.
Descent Into Darkness (Book 2) Page 32
