Reapers of Souls and Magic: A Rohrland Saga (The Rohrlands Saga Book 1)

by R. E. Fisher

  With only a split second to make the decision to follow or to lose more precious airspace to his enemy, he decided to roll his aircraft into a dive to continue pursuit. In his haste, he failed to notice his aircraft being torn apart, as small, black fibrous sections were ripped from the tail. The AI system kept repeating the damage message he had been hearing for the last few minutes. The flight control system monitored the situation as it was programmed to; however, as Dmitri completed the rollover and headed nose-first toward the earth below, a large section of the tail was immediately stripped from the airframe due to the stresses on the damaged tail section. His flight control system interpreted this as a massive structural failure, and it took complete control of the aircraft for a moment to ensure the pilot’s safety as the AI program had been designed to do.

  Turning his head to survey the damage, he observed that only one half of his tail section had any of its flight surfaces remaining. Overriding the AI, he increased his airspeed and pushed the aircraft to Mach 11. Watching his radar as he closed, he guessed that the American would bank to the left to level, then gain altitude before he hit the water. He guessed right this time and fired his laser cannon. The single blast of energy sliced through the vertical aileron of the American aircraft, but the brief blue-white thread of energy ended as soon as it had started.

  The aircraft warning system shouted out to Dmitri while it displayed the same warning over his HUD display. The force of the firing had sheared one of the cannon’s mounting bolts, causing the weapons platform to become unstable, which then caused the airframe to shudder further. Now he was faced with a deteriorating craft and a failed weapons system. If he continued the pursuit, he could very well lose his aircraft. He evaluated the situation and determined that he had established the mission’s objective: to draw America into a war.

  He decided to break off the pursuit and to head back to Cuba. He moved the control stick to retreat and was shocked when his aircraft failed to respond; it continued diving toward the Atlantic Ocean. According to his radar, he was now less than a mile above the Blackwing and on a collision course with it.

  Ollie reacted with horror as his radar also indicated that they were on a collision course with the Russian and had less than two seconds to impact. Laz attempted to bank the aircraft out of the way, but he was unable due to the damage to the ailerons. He adjusted the flight nozzles of the aircraft and managed to turn the aircraft sideways, the right wingtip pointing toward the water below. Alarms blared their annoying wail as Ollie looked upward at the shadow that fell over his cockpit. He realized that their pursuer had finally caught them. Laz breathed a sigh of relief after managing to avoid the Soviet, but he was still unable to pilot the aircraft. Ollie watched as the Dragon Fox came even with their aircraft. Each of the three pilots could see one another for only a split second.

  As all three of the stasis fields protecting the pilots came into alignment with one another, they did something the engineers had never imagined. Their stasis field generators created a quasi-magnetic effect that drew the two aircraft toward one another.

  Due to the speed they were traveling, and the mass of each aircraft, each pilot saw what they thought to be their imminent deaths. Not the heroic death as portrayed in novels, but the lonely death of warriors who die alone.

  This death would be from an artificially created wormhole, the result of the two stasis fields interacting with one another in ways that the engineers had not even thought possible. The two planes created and were then pulled into what the pilots each thought was their doom.

  Ollie watched the hole grow larger as the two aircraft moved in different directions, seeming to pull the edges of the wormhole outward with them as they sped away from each other. Time also seemed to slow down to Ollie as he watched this develop. Within the wormhole anomaly, he saw stars, moons, suns, and other worlds, too. The wormhole began to grow beyond each of the aircraft.

  Laz was watching forward and looking at instruments that weren’t helping at all. As he looked up from those instruments, he saw only a black wave wash over him, showing him pinpoints of light throughout it, and then it moved past him. Again, he and Ollie were falling, unable to recover the aircraft; Laz yelled, “Eject, eject, eject!”

  Ollie reached up and pulled on the yellow-and-black striped bar. Both pilots heard the power plant shut down and felt the electrical buzz of the stasis field disappear. A pre-designed cocoon of high-tensile polymers had been designed for that type of event. Those polymer threads created a shroud around the pilots to protect them from what was about to come. With the pilots now secured, each cockpit that Laz and Ollie occupied was then blown from the airframe of the aircraft with a small charge of C4 explosives. As they were ejected, the aircraft folded almost in half, disintegrating, as the airframe was now incomplete and weakened without the cockpits to support it.

  For the pilots, the problem was that they were shot out of their airplane sideways while still traveling at speeds in excess of Mach 3.6.

  They were immediately knocked unconscious as they were welcomed into the Rohrlands.

  Chapter 7

  “Reflect in solitude on that which thou would accomplish in this life, through both thought and deed.”

  (E.Ta., 6.11 - Book of Earth, Tenets of Tabria, Chapter 6, Verse 11)

  Daena moved silently through the slightly chill air of the early morning darkness. She drew nearer to Tetra, who was bathing in the small lake. Daena saw a slight glow behind the bathing shadow.

  Good; she faces away from us! said the voice that only she could hear.

  I can’t do this! I’ve never killed anyone! she thought.

  Do what you’re told! Lavalor commanded.

  She began moving again, slowly and cautiously, fearful of angering him further. She made her way toward the boulder Tetra had placed her clothes on before entering the water. Daena moved as silently as possible, hiding in the shadows.

  Daena had watched Tetra for days. Though she believed her mad, she realized that Tetra was also a creature of habit. Daena quietly made her way toward the thick brush that grew alongside the boulder, doing all she could to remain in the shadows.

  It’s been centuries since anyone has done this! she thought as she crouched down, staying concealed from Tetra’s view.

  It’s necessary, my love, Lavalor whispered seductively.

  She ignored his comment, as she had been trying to do more often since their return to the Rohrlands. But she couldn’t. She never had been able to ignore him. He had been asleep so long that she had almost forgotten what his voice had sounded like.

  It isn’t easy to dismiss that silky, deep voice of his once you hear it, she thought with a smile.

  She remembered each of their conversations and plots. Though centuries had passed, she still cherished each one of them.

  Focus! she heard Lavalor tell her. She had become so lost in her memories of happiness that she had almost forgotten what she was there for.

  Tetra knew that other than her eyes, there wasn’t anything unique about her compared to her sisters. But Tetra had also realized long ago that she was very different from them in many ways. She had spent her life doing what the gods had instructed them to do—not trying to bend their edicts to her needs, as most of the rest of them had. Her choices never created within her any conflict of conscience, unlike her sisters.

  Many of them were still dealing with the consequences of their choices. In their spite, many of her Elfaheen sisters relished torturing her. They told her that because she alone carried the burden of souls, she was being punished. Her sin was holding on to the precious values they had all once shared but were now abandoned by most of the remaining Elfaheen. They told her that she was somehow “less” for remaining faithful to the gods, since they had cursed her with the voices of those souls.

  She frowned at that thought, which in turn caused her brow to tighten with concern. She adjusted her wet hair to sit behind her high, pointed ears. Feeling sad that she might soo
n have to leave this paradise, her home for so many millennia, and yes, even her sisters, she set aside those thoughts and tried to enjoy the pre-dawn glow of the sunrise.

  After watching the sun begin to rise above the distant horizon, Tetra stood to leave her morning bath. She moved with such grace that the water barely shifted around her nude form as she rose and walked toward the shore. Flower petals that rested on the surface of the water nearby slipped past her, riding in her wake while filling the air with the sweet aroma of honeysuckle and jasmine as she made her way to the shore. Water fell from her taut form, absorbed by the soft white sands under her feet. As she walked to gather her clothes, she grabbed her hair and pulled it over her shoulder. She then drew her hands down the length of it, squeezing the water down. Once her hair stopped dripping, she tossed the twisted ponytail back over her shoulders.

  Her skin was pale white with only one blemish on her body, put there with purpose. It was a small thing, nothing but a tattoo located on the soft flesh between her right shoulder and breast. The series of looping curves and circles was drawn in the elegant characters of an ancient language, intended to lessen the voices she struggled with. The runes within glowed a pale blue-white, creating a calming aura about her.

  She reached the shore and stole a few more moments to watch the morning sun while she began braiding her hair. She started at the nape of her neck, then tied it off with a small length of black cloth once she had finished. She inhaled, enjoying the peace that new mornings brought and the scent of the flowers that occupied her little oasis. She moved to pick up her dress, and it was then that she saw Daena and thought to ask her why she hid, crouching in the darkness.

  Now! Now! She sees you! Lavalor shouted at her. She leapt at Tetra, more out of reflex to Lavalor’s command than wisdom. She had never been able to deny him any of his desires.

  Both women moved fast, much faster than one would think for those who stood more than seven feet in height. Ignoring what Tetra was about to say, Daena swung the black sword with all her might. Unfortunately for her, Daena had little skill with a blade.

  With her right hand, Tetra snatched up the small silver dagger that lay atop her clothes. She used it to block the oncoming blow from her sister, guiding it away and down toward the soft white sands with a glancing blow.

  Once she saw that her attacker’s sword tip rested on the ground, Tetra recovered. She then reversed direction and spun, driving her dagger deep into Daena’s neck. She severed the artery that carried within it her sister’s life, exactly as she had learned. Tetra pulled her dagger from her sister’s throat and readied for a counter. She watched as a crimson burst of blood erupted from her would-be assassin’s neck. The gout of red, viscous life-giving fluid sprayed Tetra and the once pristine white sands.

  Daena realized the gravity of her wound and dropped Lavalor, falling to her knees. In sudden desperation, she wrapped her hands around her own neck, trying to stem the flow of blood that was escaping her body with each final beat of her heart. With each pulse she felt against her palm, she grew weaker. After a few more beats of her panicked heart, she finished falling to the ground.

  She grew colder as she lay dying. Not wanting to see her killer, Daena closed her eyes, listening. She wished Lavalor would tell her that she hadn’t disappointed him.

  Why have you forsaken me? she asked him.

  His silence only told her that she should never have listened to him to begin with. She also grew angry. Angry that Quensi was going to have him all to herself now.

  Satisfied, Lavalor smiled. He watched her die, saying nothing to comfort her.

  Tetra lifted Daena’s body and wept as she carried her into the waters to wash the blood from her body. She had never killed anything, much less a creature of thought. She had never found it necessary; it went against every belief she held dear. Remorse and a sense of self-betrayal overwhelmed her as she bathed her sister. Tears began to fall down her cheeks as she wept. She kissed Daena’s forehead and brushed her hair from her face. She stood and lifted Daena out of the waters, walking to the shore. She laid Daena’s body on the sand and then dressed, donning both her own dagger and her sister’s sword. She picked Daena up and carried her back to the village. As she did, she realized that the taint of their brother’s sins still dwelt among them.

  Quensi heard the wailing and rushed from her home, looking for the cause of the disturbance. She smiled to herself, knowing that Daena must have returned as planned. She saw the crowd of women who had gathered, their cries growing louder.

  She saw that the cries were loud enough to draw Lysette from her home. She watched as Lysette rushed toward the gathered women. They parted to let Lysette through, knowing she would help Daena. Shocked, Quensi realized that it was Tetra who carried Daena. Cursing to herself, she rushed toward them as well.

  As she neared, she saw that Daena’s throat was cut, and Tetra now wore Lavalor. She began wailing along with the others as expected, making her way forward. She lay her hand on Daena’s forehead and then pressed her own forehead down onto the back of her hand.

  “What have you done?” she asked, feigning anger and turning her head to look at Tetra.

  Lysette stepped between the two women, recognizing the look that Quensi was giving Tetra.

  “We will get to the bottom of this, Quensi,” she said.

  “Give her to me now!” Quensi hissed as she reached her arms out for Daena’s body. She slipped her arms underneath Daena, taking her from Tetra, who looked at Lysette as quiet tears slipped down her cheeks.

  Tetra turned and walked away from them toward her own home.

  The women of the village turned to Lysette as Quensi shrilly asked, “Aren’t you even going to ask her what happened?”

  In a calm voice, Lysette looked at Quensi and said, “We will find out the truth of what happened. But we must take care of Daena first.”

  Tetra entered her home, closed the door and leaned against it, cradled her face in the crook of her arm, and wept.

  Quensi carried Daena back to their home, where she dressed her in her best gown and prepared her body for the journey to the Hidden Mountain for burial. She and Lysette would travel there later to inter her body with the others that had passed from the Realm of Light.

  It was then that she realized that Tetra still had the sword. Tetra had been wearing it when she took Daena’s body from her.

  Good, she thought. Daena had been as useful in getting the sword to the Harbinger as he had said she would be. Still, she finished preparing Daena’s body before Lysette could arrive, relieved that she would not have to share Lavalor with her anymore but sad that he now belonged to Tetra for a while.

  After arriving to her small cottage, Tetra removed her dagger, thankful that her husband had taught her how to use the weapon so long ago. She still practiced daily, pretending that he was beside her each time she did. She reached down and unsecured the baldric that had held Daena’s sword onto her hip. Tetra lay the sword down across the arms of the chair that sat near the door to her modest dwelling, and then she sat on the floor next to the black sword, staring at it. Should she keep it, since no one had asked for it?

  She picked it up to examine it closer and saw that the blade was etched with runes; she could feel the magic within it. She did not know what the blade was constructed of, but the fact that her friend had used it to try to kill her was something she found disturbing. Although she sensed that it was somehow magical, her skills only allowed her to create life, nothing more. The gods had not needed for her to know anything more than that. Unlike many of her kin, she had never pursued any of those other arts. The idea of corrupting the blessings that the gods had given to them made her feel heretical.

  She leaned back against the wall and laid out her dagger and the black sword on each side of her legs, closing her eyes.

  “Why did she attack me?” she asked herself as she fell asleep on the floor, sad and exhausted.

  After she awoke, she exited her home; as sh
e entered the village, she looked around and relished the sense of comfort and well-being that exuded from the tended gardens and the smooth, curved stone dwellings. Yet she attempted to enjoy the glow of the early morning sun and its bright blue sky as both colored the buildings within her village in various shades of yellows, oranges, and blues.

  Now that she had killed one of her own, she would have to face her punishment, whatever that might be. As she walked toward Lysette’s, she thought of how strange her future would be. Perhaps it would be as strange as what an outsider might see as they visited her home. She realized that an outsider would recognize several oddities about the village inhabitants as they peered about it.

  The first was that there were no men within it. The second oddity was that these women were the tallest elves that they would ever see. High elves were the tallest known elves within the young kingdoms, but these women were much taller than even they. Not a single inhabitant of this quiet, unknown village stood less than seven feet in height. Tall, thin, pale, shapely, and graceful was how they would have described them. Almost otherworldly. The final oddity was that each one of the women in the village looked much like she did, except for their own differing and distinctive eyes.

  Tetra looked around the village, seeing that many of her sisters had begun to gather together at the well in front of Lysette’s home.

  She saw Lysette and watched as she turned her eyes toward her own.

  “Tetra, come,” the tattooed woman heard as Lysette held out her hand to her. Tetra walked to the well, preparing for Lysette’s decision as she bowed her head to the matriarch of the family. She took Lysette’s hand and held it as she began to speak.

  The group of women stared at Lysette, curious about the decision she had reached. Tetra also turned toward Lysette, receiving a grim look from her.

  “Sisters, we are the mothers of all the races. Yes, even the dread races, and as such, we know much. We know that our lives will soon be fulfilled. Each of us has suffered the loss of those we love. We watched as those of us chose to give up our immortality because of greed, or anger, or desire. We watched as our husbands waged war with one another, corrupting our gift of creation. They did so by creating beasts to kill those that others had created. Each of them were created to be more intelligent and fearsome than the last. We watched as certain others chose to depart only to return, saying that they were misled,” Lysette said, looking at Quensi as she paused.