Cedric lunged and stabbed but only made contact with the air. "What the hell?" A vine took hold of his ankle, whipping at him like a snake's head and then wrapping around quickly, tightly. "Get off me!" the man shouted with a horrified look of confusion. "You're some kind of witch!" he shouted at Tehra as she backed away farther.
"No, I promise you, I'm not. I'm just a humble girl who wants to clean up the city."
The vine dragged him toward the pool, continuing to coil itself around his leg. Joined by its fellow plantlike limbs as they gathered from around the edges of the cavernous chamber, one was soon many and they formed a loose cocoon of green that went up to his neck.
You have come to the wrong dungeon, my friend, said Mertho so that not only Tehra could hear him, but the terrified human too.
Cedric shouted, "Who—who said that?! You're in my mind. You won't get away with this! I'll have you hanged! This place is evil!"
"Well now, really?" asked Tehra with a coy, girlish quality to her words. She was enjoying watching the man squirm and try to escape. "Maybe this will teach you what it's like to be helpless, to feel trapped in a terrible situation that you didn't ask for."
Cedric could no longer stand up, and he fell flat on his face, blood coming out as some teeth went flying from his skull. It would have been a saving grace of the gods for him to be knocked unconscious from the fall, but it was quite plain to see that no righteous gods favored this man.
"Trapped and alone, and to have someone with all the power in the world come along, and instead of helping you with that power—they take advantage of you." Tehra came up close and squatted beside the prone man in his tangle of living vines. "Remember all those young girls you had your way with as you die."
"You're a witch," he stammered, starting to have trouble speaking. The wide-eyed look of terror was not unlike an animal in the slaughterhouse that has just realized its turn on the chopping block is next. "They will find you, I will get revenge, they will burn you, witch, witch..."
I assure you she's no witch. I did use to be a wizard though. Now, I'm in a position to teach you an everlasting lesson, Cedric, the captain of the city guard. Mertho had the vines pull Cedric down into the water, where the hundreds of waiting fish rushed out to greet their new prey. As soon as he was in the pool, the vines released and returned to their place of lurking in the dry areas of the cavern. The top of the water was too low down to allow even the most nimble of man to easily scramble out. Thousands and thousands of razor sharp teeth began to tear into Cedric's flesh in an instant.
He screamed, thrashed about in the water, begged, bled, slowly sank beneath the red surface and became a blur within a whirling vortex of chaotic feeding.
Tehra was shaking and her face wet with tears by the end of it. It was meant to feel good to kill someone so deserving, so evil. Instead, she felt cold and hollow, like some kind of murderous reptilian creature. She did not say much after.
Mertho swore he could feel the man's suffering, but it was not painful to the wizard. Then came that blissful life force. And it was powerful, nourishing, godlike.
33
Benevic had been secretly nursing his mounting anxiety. As the leader of a prestigious group of adventurers, it was not acceptable for the man to be seen as having any doubt. Without a wife, and having lost the rest of his family to age, dangerous quests, or military conflict, he found it impossible to share his worries with anyone. So, Benevic stayed up at night and meditated as he had been taught by one of his combat instructors many years earlier.
This not only allowed him to build focus and discipline but to wipe his mind of distracting thoughts. Thoughts like what was going on with his daughter. She had been very sweet since her return, but also undoubtedly changed. He could not pretend all was completely normal in Gaynor’s mind any longer. Telltale signs were showing up, too similar to the ones that had lead up to the whole Mertho incident.
"Bloody wizard," he muttered. Well aware that his attempts at meditating had failed this time, Benevic opened his eyes. He was in his bedchamber, the only place he could be truly sure of total privacy. Even the most expert rogues and spies in the land would be hard-pressed to find a way to access that room in secret.
And even with that level of assured security, Benevic only ever trusted himself with the most valuable of secrets. His thoughts were the only place he would allow them to exist. The truth about the 'wizard's tower' stories existed only there, and of course within the mind of Gaynor.
He was sitting on the floor atop a flat cushion, legs crossed and open palms resting upon his rigid knees. They were not as easy to bend that way as they had once been, but Benevic was still in better fighting condition than the average man who was perhaps twenty years younger; even better than the average warrior still.
He stood up and walked over to his bed, where he let his body fall facing up. What exactly did Mertho have in store for Gaynor all those years ago? How had someone so strange, so reclusive and physically weak, been able to attract the attentions of such a beautiful and sociable young woman? There were so many eligible and affluent suitors waiting for her to start looking for a husband. Then, when the time had come, she had focused her attentions on that sickly looking wizard who never saw the light of day.
He lured her in with dark magic, and he took her virginity through the use of trickery. But what happened on that night? He asked himself the same old questions, the ones that had plagued his solitude this decade gone.
More recently, another question had been added to his worries: why had Gaynor returned early, and why had there be no word from the nunnery before her return? He went and retrieved a letter from his locked desk, the one that he had recently received. It was sent by the mayor of the closest village to the nunnery, giving the news that the Sisters of Fate's Mercy nunnery had been burnt to the ground, and somehow every last one of the nuns had failed to escape. Some of the bodies were not completely burned to ashes, and it was discovered that their throats had been cut.
Chills worked through his body, and he put the letter away, as though it was a cursed item. On top of all this, Benevic had discovered that Gaynor had been secretly leaving the house to go and visit with strangers. Every night, he made sure that she was in her bed. As of yet, she had only gone out during the day and was free to do so as an adult.
He knew, the very moment of opening that letter, that something was very wrong. Yet, he felt unable to act. The years had worked to bury the incident at the wizard’s tower. Sending Gaynor away had helped keep it from his thoughts, but now he did not know what to do. If there were a way to do nothing, Benevic was almost certain he would have chosen that path.
Benevic went to check on her and found that her room was vacant. Starting to wonder if his worst fears might be turning to reality—that it was perhaps not the wizard who was entirely at fault on that night—Benevic dressed himself in his arms and armor, and left to find his daughter.
When went out the front door onto the street, there was a carriage with Gaynor inside and several hooded men. Benevic could have sworn she looked directly at him, but it was too dark to know for sure. The carriage took off quickly.
Benevic ran to the stables behind his company, only one block away, and took off in the direction the coach had been heading. He felt like he had already lost his only child, the only family member he had left. By pushing the horse to its limit - it was a fine and expensive steed - and with a great deal of luck, Benevic caught up to the wagon as it entered an alley beside a warehouse.
He did not try to be secretive in his chase, but the carriage was empty by the time Benevic rode up to it. He tied his mount and ran to the side door of the warehouse, which was not locked. Inside there was darkness as he entered a narrow, long passage lit only by a glow that came over the low wall. The building had a high ceiling as was usual for a warehouse. When he came to the end of the passage, he realized the strange glow was being given off by thousands and thousands of candles. They were ubiquities i
n the rundown warehouse.
In the center of the room was a platform, atop which stood Gaynor wearing nothing at all. The shame and fear of that sight penetrated Benevic's heart, nearly crippling him with inaction. He shuffled forward and began to shake all over. It was a bastardized variant of the natural fight or flight response experienced by humans and animals alike. His body became slick with sweat, and his armor seemed to hold him down so that his feet found it hard to move forward.
Around his naked daughter were dozens of robed figures, a mixture of both men and women judging by their shapes beneath their long robes, with hoods covering their heads completely and masking their faces in shadows beneath the haunting glow of the many burning candles.
Benevic saw that the candles were of a wax that was dyed black, each and every one of them. He wanted to shout out, to scream with rage, or beg for his daughter to be herself, for this to be a misunderstanding or even some cruel hoax. One that he was sure he could recover from. The truth seemed likely to kill him right where he stood.
No one noticed him, which might have been the strangest thing, for he made a loud entrance with his mail armor and sword at his belt, clanking as he ran into the room. The candlelight also glinted from his helm and steel shoulder guards, making him seem to sparkle like a silver statuette in the vast chasm of blackness and tiny fires glowing all around.
"The time has come!" shouted Gaynor. Her voice was strange, like how he imagined an expert actress would sound, or perhaps this was how she truly did sound now, and all the rest of her sweetness and seeming complacency had been nothing more than an act. "The magical core has grown to power. The sacrifice is ready. And my vessel stands here before you. While I cannot come and be among you, my loyal followers, yet—the time is soon upon us! And the world will know my name, for it is slavery, bloodshed, and terror!"
The hooded figures gathered around the raised platform put their arms up and began to chant. Each of them held a long dagger, more ceremonial in appearance than practical.
It might have been the sight of all those weapons, or perhaps his brain had broken through the paralysis of denial, but he jumped into action with sword in hand. He rushed the nearest row of these demonic cultists and slashed at them from the back. One screamed with a gaping gash diagonally across his back and toppled away to the ground. Another, he caught in an upswing of his blade and beneath the armpit. The wound was deep, and the cultist dropped her dagger before falling back.
His vision turned into a blur of rage, dotted firelight, flashing silver daggers, and he killed many of the faceless bastards, men and women. They inevitably overpowered him and knocked him down, disarming the veteran warrior. They shouted at Benevic, and at each other, and a faraway voice with dominant force told them to leave him.
It could have been Gaynor, but only sounded like her. The cultists fled from the warehouse all at once, leaving Benevic shivering all over and unable to remember if he had gone to sleep already that night, if perhaps this was just a dream. Praying that this was just a nightmare. He got back to his feet and searched frantically for his beloved daughter. Had it really been her? His mind felt like it was slipping away from him, for the circumstances were so strange. He looked around to see if anyone was left behind. The building was empty. The corpses he'd created were regular people. They had nothing on their person but the silver daggers and their robes. They were naked beneath as well and wore no shoes.
Benevic went to take one of the daggers to help him track these people down, but touching it seemed too much for his brain to allow. Instead, we went out of the building and planned to never return. Outside, there were no carriages remaining. Oddly, his horse was still there and unharmed, if not panicked. He realized this might all be traced back to one location, and one point in time: the wizard's tower and that fateful night when it had been swallowed up by the evil within. He had always hoped the wizard's only purpose with Gaynor was to seduce her, possibly take her as a young bride.
The evil present was much greater.
34
The tired elf had certainly earned her rest that night. But that did not immediately come in the form of sleep for her. She'd gone back to her room and gotten under the covers, tucking them up high like a frightened child during a thunderous storm. When she would have usually put out the lantern and enjoyed a completely dark room to sleep, she chose to leave it lit. She felt she was becoming a monster.
Eventually, Tehra did fall asleep. Cedric's face was there awash with agony. Mertho's face was also there, but not the floating skull of magical green aura. He was human, a regular man of less than average height and stature. He had a homely look to him without any sense of menace. This had to be a construct of her own imagination because Tehra had no way to know what he had actually looked like before being turned into the dungeon core.
If he had learned to delight in death and suffering, so too would Tehra if she continued along the same path.
Her body jolted her away. Knife in hand, she was sat up in her bed with the cover strewn across her the wrong way, twisted up and tangled around her legs. Someone was banging on the door to her room.
The dwarf, Yuri, shouted through the heavy wooden door. "Tehra, we have an emergency quest, and every member of the company is required to go!"
"Let me be," she said. "Tell me what it is tomorrow."
"There is no time for that. We're going tonight!"
When she opened the door, body half limp and face ice cold, Tehra couldn't bring herself to speak to him face to face. She turned away and busied herself with preparing her equipment, so she would not have to look him in the eye.
"You seem like you've been warring with some demons of your own in your sleep, young lass."
She tried to laugh at how accidentally accurate that off-hand remark was. "Yeah, that is a good summation. What is this emergency?"
"It's Benevic. He's lost the plot. He's forming a dungeon diving party! It's just as I feared. Was it you who told him?" Yuri squared his broad shoulders and peered up at the young elf. "You made me a promise."
"Think what you like, but I didn't tell anyone."
"We're not done talking about this. If it was you—if I make it through this—I will find out, and I will come after you, elf."
"That's fine with me, dwarf. Now leave me alone so I can ready for this dungeon diving quest." Their eyes were locked as he stepped out of the room, right up until she went to close the door on him, locking it behind.
Mertho, she said through her magical link to the wizard. He did not reply. Again, Mertho. Wizard! Did you not hear that? See it? However you spy on my brain? Tehra readied herself, not sure why or what she planned to do. Her body was cold near the point of numbness, although the building was kept at a pleasant temperature via a central chimney she had no control over. It wasn't the kind of literal coldness. Blood hung heavy over her mind, made her itch and feel uncomfortable wearing the skin she had been living in her whole life. Many things had happened to Tehra in her short twenty-six years, but only recently had she started to wonder if she was better of being alive at all.
The guard captain had deserved what happened to him, but if an ax man kills the evilest of criminals, will he himself eventually turn into something evil? Could such an evil be justified, even righteous? "You are really reaching now, Tehra," she told herself out loud. It was bizarre how speaking her thoughts that way had come to feel more private than simply having the thoughts. Because, he was lurking in there, in a way.
Wizard, what are you doing? I have to tell you something now! Is the link broken? She'd been ignoring her actions; she had been checking her sword, her knife, her armor and harness. Could it be that this little elf was planning to go on a dungeon diving question with Benevic's party of adventurers in earnest? Would she have the nerve to help them destroy the wizard, after pledging her allegiance to him such a short time ago?
"Disloyal as you are murderous, and a hypocrite to match," she whispered.
For now, she cou
ld maintain at least one of her still intact virtues: her loyalty and honor. With hands already bloodied before all this, she could still proudly claim that she had never turned against her good word, not when she had given it in earnest instead of part of a con.
Gods damn you, wizard.
Tehra wanted to take a horse, but the company was sure to be at their building, gathering in preparation for the dungeon dive. But she needed a horse, and her confidence as a thief was high. When she came to the building, there was a lot of commotion inside the well-lit room. Even though it was in the small hours, the place was as busy as any day of business. The doors were shut, however, and no one was at the stables.
"Finally I have a sliver of luck," she said, saddling up on the mount that had been allocated to her. It was a good horse, and she had faith in it getting her to the docks quickly.
35
Mertho had been in deep contemplation, but that was nothing new for a timeless immortal such as himself. A presence drew near and had been coming closer for some time. Or, just the normal length of time for a person to make their way across the river and into the hills. She was on a horse. She was something lovely and too familiar, so that a diabolical combination of pain and desire started to seep through Mertho's magical core. It was bizarre.
The woman approached by horse to the cave entrance and did not seem at all afraid of being alone in the black night on the cold hill. Even with the whole city now aware that an ogre had only just been slain within that very cave, here came this solitary creature.
It could not be.
"You do remember me, don't you?" asked Gaynor from the entrance.
How do you know that I ever knew you? he asked, thinking about pretending that he was not Mertho the wizard.
"I know it's you," she replied. "Please let me come inside, down into your depths where I can speak to you and see what has taken place here."
The Wizard (Dungeon Core Book 1) Page 16
