The Temple of Arrival

by Matthew Olney

  With a shout, he launched himself at her but just as it seemed his fist would connect, he fell past her, his hands grasping his throat.

  Kasdar gasped as the Seeker’s grip of Disgust eased and fixed itself on the new danger. He clambered, wheezing, to his feet in time to see the man fall unconscious as his body was flooded with infection. The female Seeker now faced Rea and himself. Rea was focused on the woman trying to use her Gift, but to her surprise, the Seeker’s mind was tough to influence.

  “Fool, we’re trained to resist your pathetic Gift,” the woman snarled through gritted teeth. Despite her words, it was clear that it was taking a lot out of her to defend against Rea’s intrusions. Kasdar focused on his own Gift of Surprise through the haze of sickness he felt. He focused on the emotion, his mind’s eye struggling to fix on all the times he had experienced the emotion over the course of his life. He smiled despite the nausea as he latched onto the Power. To an observer, he appeared to vanish before miraculously appearing directly behind the Seeker. Without hesitation, he plunged his sword deep into the woman’s back until its tip pushed through her front in a spray of blood. A stunned cry emanated from the dying woman’s throat; her eyes wide in shock.

  “Surprise,” Kasdar growled into her ear as she expired. With a groan, the Seeker slid off the blade to crumple to the ground.

  “C’mon we have to go,” Rea said hurrying over to him and throwing his arm over her shoulder. His lungs ached, and his mouth tasted of sickness. Never again did he want to experience the effects of Disgust.

  Rea could sense dozens of Seekers converging on their location. Taking a deep breath, she focused on herself and Kasdar to hide their presence. Together they fled from the alley and disappeared into the night.

  *

  Light from the Happy Chancer’s backdoor spilt onto the street. Cleo stood in the doorway a lantern in hand and concern etched on her face. Garen hurried outside and helped Rea carry the spluttering Kasdar indoors.

  “Were you followed,” Cleo asked.

  “No, I don’t think so,” Rea replied breathlessly. The trip back to the inn had been exhausting especially once Kasdar succumbed to the sickness that was attacking his body. The man was now sweating profusely, and mucus poured from his nostrils and eyes.

  “A Seeker did this. A Master of Disgust. Is there anything you can do Garen?” she said as they lifted Kasdar onto one of the tables in the inn’s large kitchen. Cleo set about removing his coat and boots whilst Garen moved to the tableside. The older man regarded his friend for a few moments.

  “I need to know what sickness the Seeker induced before I can help him. Go get my bag from my room Rea. I need to examine him.”

  Rea nodded and hurried out of the room.

  Cleo moved over to one of the sinks and filled a bucket with cold water. Over the years of their actions against the Imperium, she had tended to many wounds, and despite her noble background, she wasn’t afraid of rolling up her sleeves and doing all she could to help. Garen leant over Kasdar. First, he placed his head against Kasdar’s chest. He tutted. Kasdar’s breathing now came in a heavy wheeze, and his lungs sounded as though they were filling with liquid. Next, he pinched Kasdar’s eyelids and looked into his eyes. They were now bloodshot and yellowish in colour.

  “That Seeker must have been pretty powerful to have done this. They’ve turned his immune system against him to the point where he has pneumonia and Supreme knows what else.”

  “I’m dying,” Kasdar croaked.

  Garen grunted. “You’re not dead yet brother.”

  Cleo dipped a cloth into the bucket and placed the cool material against Kasdar’s feverish forehead. He was burning up, but from the way, he was violently shivering it looked as though he were freezing.

  “Hang in there Kasdar,” she said taking his hand in hers and squeezing tightly.

  Rea returned to the kitchen and handed Garen his bag. He placed it onto the table and opened it. Inside, were dozens of bottles filled with various potions and medicines. With a satisfied grunt, he took out two of the bottles and poured their contents into a bowl.

  “Substance of Mistroot and Erimiprim should do the trick. Rea, take this bowl and place it in the pot over there. Cleo get that fire as hot as you can,” Garen ordered.

  The two women did as they were instructed and before long the stinking mixture was bubbling in the pot.

  “I’ve told him more times than I can count that he should leave those vigilante antics well alone,” Garen muttered as he poured the steaming concoction back into a bowl. He walked over to Kasdar, lifted his head and placed the bowl to his lips. The liquid tasted as bad as it smelt but Kasdar drank every drop. A few moments went by, and then he sat bolt upright his eyes wide and gasping for air. The concoction had done its job at dissolving the mucus in his chest, and the ability to breathe clearly was something he would never take for granted again.

  “Thank you, Garen,” he said gratefully. He could feel the ill effects of the Seeker’s powers draining away as the potion did its work.

  “Next time don’t be so bloody careless,” Garen replied.

  “This has to stop Kasdar,’ said Cleo. She stepped closer to him and placed her hands on his shoulders. “You’re going to get yourself killed, or worse.”

  Kasdar brushed her aside and rose from the table.

  “Someone has to do something. I don’t see either of you out there trying to stop those animals. This is our home and those people who are killed every night by the Seekers are our kin.”

  Garen looked away, but Cleo held his gaze. Fury was in her eyes; her face taught in anger.

  “You’re reckless Kasdar. Do you not remember anything Vavius taught us?”

  Kasdar held up a hand to stop her saying anything more.

  “Vavius is a traitor. I will not hold to that bastards’ teachings,” he answered angrily.

  It was then that Rea interjected. What had happened to her friends? They had all once been fearless in the face of the Imperium.

  “Why are you angry with Kasdar Cleo? He’s fighting back just like we always did. Protect the helpless is what we all swore to do. And you,’ she said facing Kasdar, ‘what you were doing was reckless. We also fought together as a team. Why are you doing it solo? If I hadn’t shown up, you’d be dead and then where would we be? Vavius betrayed us, that’s true, but that doesn’t mean we become stupid.

  I came here to seek out your help, but if this is what you’ve become, I’m starting to think I would have been better off on my own.”

  The others looked away in shame at her words. An awkward silence fell over the room that was broken by the sound of someone knocking on the inn’s backdoor. Rea turned from her comrades and walked over to it. She placed a hand on the door handle and gestured to the others to get ready. It was long after curfew any mysterious visitors in the night were either from the Venerable Chamber or worse. She could have sworn that they’d not been followed, but who knew what eyes could have been watching in the darkness.

  “Who is it?” she asked.

  “Set the spark,” came the reply.

  Rea smiled and against the protests of the others opened the door. A man dressed in a long brown overcoat and wearing a wide-brimmed hat hurried inside.

  “Who is this man?” Kasdar asked threateningly.

  “Relax Kasdar; he’s a Liberator. Marcian, their leader, told me the passphrase his messengers use,” Rea replied. The messenger nodded and reached into his coat pocket. He pulled out a sealed scroll and handed it to her.

  “Thank you. How many of you are there in Olandis if you don’t mind me asking?” she said to the messenger.

  “Enough,” the man answered gruffly. He tipped his hat to her and left.

  “Talkative chap,” Garen muttered.

  Rea broke the scroll's seal and read the message. As she did her face paled.

  “What is it little Rea?” Cleo asked with concern.

  “It’s Vavius. He’s been sighted in the Eastern
Imperium. Apparently, he attacked and destroyed an Imperium patrol close to the Asylum. Why in the world would he have gone there?”

  Cleo rubbed her chin deep in thought.

  “I think I know, but we need to be certain. How quickly can we reach the Asylum?” she said finally.

  Kasdar and Garen looked at her in surprise.

  “Well, if we Bound and have little rest, I’d guess three days at most to reach the coast. We’d have to get passage across the Dividing Sea and from there another week?” Garen answered.

  Cleo shook her head.

  “We don’t all need to go. Me and Garen can handle this can’t we Garen,” she said nudging the scowling man in the ribs.

  The older Gifted was about to protest, but the smirk on Cleo’s face made him think better of it.

  “Fine,” he grumbled.

  “Excellent. We’ll set off in the morning. We’ve been in this city for far too long it’ll feel good to get out into the wider world again.”

  “There’s more,” Rea said as she finished reading the letter. Once done she handed it to Kasdar.

  “Elian, the Empowered One I told you about is making his way here. We’re going to need his help if we do manage to find Vavius.”

  “So then, whilst Cleo and Garen are off to the Asylum to find out what our former leader was doing there, me and Rea will stay here and keep an eye on the Venerable Chamber and await the arrival of this Elian.”

  The night's events had left them all feeling exhausted and one after the other they retreated to their rooms. Rea fell onto her bed and within moments was fast asleep.

  ***

  Chapter 10.

  The City of Caspia

  Finally, the little steamer had reached its destination. The bustling port of Caspia was the perfect place to slip back into the Western Imperium undetected, numerous smugglers and pirates operated from the docks and all were open to bribery. Vavius walked to the front of the ship and folded his arms. Fidgeting beside him was Skit. The older man twitched uncontrollably, and his eyes darted in every direction. His time in the Asylum had taken a heavy toll upon him even if his incarceration had been a deliberate choice. The days when Vavius would feel pity for the man were long over. Nothing but reaching the Temple and his vengeance mattered now. To prevent his former brother in arms escaping he was using the power of Positivity to take a grasp of his already fragile mind. If Skit even thought of escaping a jolt of pain would strike his brain. He’d learnt quickly not to test him.

  The two men wore the clothing of sailors in order to blend in but in the pack resting inside their tiny cabin was his cloak, gauntlets and armour. A cry came from the crow’s nest above them. Approaching fast was an Imperium patrol ship its cannons trained on the steamer. Vavius swore loudly. He wasn’t too concerned that Imperium troops would surely board the vessel, he was angrier at the inevitable delay. They had to reach land soon, every moment wasted would give his enemies time to try and stop him. He turned to Skit and placed a hand on the man’s shoulder.

  “Keep your mouth shut and I won’t have to hurt you. Remember our cover story; we’re just two Kaspen slavers whose ship was attacked by pirates and these fine gentlemen saved us,” he said gesturing to the crew who were hastily hiding any items that might risk the wrath of the Imperium soldiers. The patrol vessel’s horn blared to warn all ships in the vicinity to stay away. The larger vessel drew up alongside the steamer and rope ladders were tossed over the side. The steamer’s captain who was a weaselly looking fellow called on his men to stay calm.

  “Just do as they say. We’ve got nothing to hide; this time anyway,” he said eliciting some chuckles from his men. Vavius caught his eye. The captain paled. A whistle sounded from the Imperium ship and four marines leapt over the side and clambered with ease down the ladder. Once on the steamer's deck, they drew pistols which they pointed menacingly at the crew. A man dressed in the black uniform of an Imperium officer was the last man to arrive on the deck. Once there he adjusted his hat and gripped the hilt of his sabre.

  “Who is the captain of this ship?” the officer asked.

  “I am sir,” the captain answered.

  The officer looked him up and down with a barely concealed sneer on his face.

  “This ship has been boarded under the authorisation of the Supreme and Venerable Chamber. This boarding is a random check, any counterfeit goods discovered shall be confiscated and their owners arrested. As captain of this vessel you will hand me your paper for inspection,” the officer explained as though he’d spoken the same words a thousand times before. With a gesture, he gave the command to his men to begin searching the ship which they did with little enthusiasm.

  “Here’s the papers sir,” said the captain as he handed a scroll to the officer.

  “Do you have any passengers?” the officer asked suddenly. The captain’s eyes widened at the question.

  Vavius frowned and slowly shook his head. Using the power of Positivity, he calmed the captain. Visibly the man relaxed.

  “Just those two fellas over there. We picked them up in the sea. Their ship was attacked by pirates,” the captain answered calmly.

  The officer looked at Vavius and Skit and raised an eyebrow.

  “Attacked by pirates, were you? Where about did this attack take place?”

  Vavius cleared his throat and settled into the role he’d created for himself.

  “Just west of Cape Forlorn. Bloody pirates sank our ship and took our slaves. Freed them they did!” he moaned in a good imitation of a Kaspen accent.

  The officer smiled at the words.

  “Sounds like Liberators. You say they were off Cape Forlorn?” the officer said, his tone thoughtful.

  “Right men. Hurry up with that and let’s allow these fine gentlemen to be on their way. We have Liberators to hunt,” he said eagerly.

  Quickly the Imperium Marines finished their search and climbed the rope ladder. The patrol ship then departed at full steam with a whoosh of spray westward. Once they were gone the relieved captain ordered the steamer to resume its journey into Caspia’s harbour. Once inside the harbour’s outer wall, Vavius returned to his cabin picked up his bag and prepared to disembark. The steamer drew up alongside the stone quay and a gangplank was placed against the hull. Vavius nudged Skit down it, sending the image of what he would do to him if he tried to flee. A cruel smile crossed his lips as Skit shuddered. Once safely on the quayside, he hefted his bag and led the way towards the city centre.

  Like Asta, Caspia had been the capital city of the ancient kingdom of Caspia and had grown rich from maritime trade with the former realms that had once existed across the Dividing Sea. As they walked through the bustling crowds of slaves and merchants Skit looked around wide eyes at the architecture of the city’s structures. Unlike the clean stone of Asta, the Caspians had preferred to build their city using a wide variety of shapes. The Imperium barracks, for example, were built in the shape of a hexagon lying flat on its side, the Venerable Chamber’s offices meanwhile were located in a huge pyramid that towered over the rest of the city. The harbour itself was built out of a dozen huge granite rectangles with the harbour masters office topped with a wide circular arch. Carved into the building’s surfaces were intricate spirals and depictions of scenes from early in Caspia’s history. The fact that any were still visible attested to the skills of the artisans who had carved them centuries ago.

  They walked across the city’s main plaza; a vast open space filled with market stalls. The noise was near deafening as the merchants bellowed over the din of the crowd to grab the attention of the shoppers. A multitude of slaves, their backs bent low and faces gaunt and sad carried their master’s litters through the jostling humanity and watching over all of it was the twenty-foot-high statue marble statue of the Supreme. Vavius slowed and stared at it. Every time he saw those perfect features Anger surged within his breast.

  “So, she still pains you,” Skit said with a hint of humour in his tone.

  Va
vius stopped and with a sudden viciousness struck Skit hard enough to send him to his knees. Despite the crowds, no one stopped and came to his aid. After all, what a slave owner did with their property was their business.

  “Mock me, or mention her again and I will break every bone in your body and drag you to Aeranyth,” Vavius growled.

  Despite the threat, Skit laughed and staggered to his feet.

  “You’re pathetic Vavius. She stole your heart so now you seek revenge. You may say that you seek her end for the Mentor’s false cause, but in reality, it’s all because she rejected you,” the skinny older man mocked.

  Vavius snarled and channelled Anger. His arms grew in size and just as it looked like he would batter Skit into a pulp he stopped.

  “You think I’m a fool. You want me to kill you. No, my old friend, I’m not going to kill you, not until you do what I require of you.”

  Skit flinched as Vavius grabbed him roughly by the neck and shoved him forward.

  “I told you before, I cannot read the map without the cypher,” he replied.

  “Well, then, it’s a good job we’re going to get one isn’t it?” Vavius said pushing him through the thronging crowds towards the city’s southern gate. So far, they had gone undetected save for the run-in with an Imperium patrol in the east. The Supreme must have had agents watching the Asylum, it was the only explanation Vavius had for such a patrol to have been in the remote location. The encounter had spooked him. If the Supreme knew that Skit was hiding there, she also knew that one day he would come for him. How much did she know?

  They walked across a market square and down a narrow side street that led to a wide promenade which was littered with the rusty dilapidated shacks of the city’s slave population. Their own bedraggled appearance made blending in amongst the filth and half-starved populace easy. Finally, they arrived at Caspia’s southern wall. Unlike Asta to the north, Caspia’s once powerful walls were now nothing more than a pile of rubble. A poignant reminder of the Supreme’s brutal subjugation of the city three centuries previously. Vavius pushed Skit towards the stable located close to what had once been an imposing gatehouse. Outside and shovelling a large pile of shit was a chubby man with a face that was covered in a thick bushy beard. At seeing the two Gifted approach he stopped his shovelling and leant on his shovel. He eyed them up and down and shook his head.