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

by R. E. Fisher

  “Do not kill her, dragon. I forbid it! We must have answers!”

  “Ask her what you will, Lysette, but know this: she will die if I suspect she is lying about anything.”

  “Let her go, Telerex.”

  “And let her try and kill me? I think not!”

  “Can you not see it? She has no magic left. She is dying already. Take your hands from her,” she said as she walked toward the frail woman.

  Telerex looked at both once again. Unsure why, he set his anger aside; but he, too, realized that she no longer carried the magic that was recognizable in the Elfaheen. He removed the dagger from her throat, releasing her.

  Quensi collapsed to the ground in a heap, unable to remain standing with what little strength she had left. Lysette sat down and pulled Quensi close. She began cradling her as tears welled up in her eyes, knowing she would once again have to watch someone she loved die.

  “Oh, Quensi, what have you done?”

  “What I was told to, Lysette,” she answered with a wry grin.

  “By whom, child?”

  “My husband.”

  “You are no longer married, child,” Lysette said, thinking she had begun to lose her thoughts as she had seen in her own husband.

  “But I am!” She paused, then added, “Oh, I’m so thirsty, Lysette; have you something to drink, please?

  “We will get you something,” she said. She looked up to send Telerex to the well, but she saw that each of the Elfaheen had gathered because of the commotion. Fear and confusion were clear on their faces—fear from each of them having seen death so long ago, and confusion as to why it was happening.

  “Daylanice. Water, please,” she instructed. She watched as Daylanice rushed to the well. Telerex glanced at the woman who rushed off, but quickly turned his attention back to the pathetic sight that now lay on the ground before him. His anger turned to pity. She did not even realize what she had done.

  “Now, Quensi, you must tell me about the sword you gave Tetra.”

  “My husband,” she croaked.

  “You can tell me about him later. I need to know of the sword, dear; the sword, please.”

  “My husband,” she said again, looking up. Quensi saw the confusion in Lysette’s eyes and grinned. “The sword is my husband. Lavalor. Your realm ends soon, Lysette.”

  Daylanice returned with a bucket of water and handed it to the dragon, refusing to go near the dying woman for fear of catching whatever it was that had caused her condition.

  With a look of scorn for the Elfaheen, he took the bucket and moved to kneel next to the women. He took the ladle from the bucket and fed some of the water to the crone that was Quensi. She gulped down all the water it held. “It’s no use. Water does not quench this thirst. My magic did, but I used it all up a few days ago!” she said, laughing.

  “Lavalor was your husband; is that what you’re trying to tell us?” Lysette asked.

  “Is, Lysette; he is my husband,” she cackled.

  “But he left, as did you; but you came back to us,” she said, still trying to comfort her.

  “Oh, he did too, you stupid bitch. He returned with me as well!” Quensi spat. “All of you are so stupid. Unable to see what lay right in front of you for centuries.”

  “Then explain it to us, Quensi; please. Tetra could be dying.”

  “Good. We will be meeting then and I can just kill her over and over again without you interfering!”

  “Enough,” Telerex said. He reached his hand out and placed it over her forehead while uttering something archaic to the Elfaheen’s ears. Her eyes brightened a bit, and she looked at the dragon.

  “Why would you do that?” Quensi asked him.

  “I can do that until I die. You will relive these moments for decades, perhaps even for centuries, as I am still young. But you…in that frail body and always thirsting, always near death yet always struggling to die! But I promise that I will not let you. You will remain frail, weak, and helpless for as long as I wish it! Is that your desire?” the dragon asked. With eyes that barely contained his anger, he stared at the crone and reached to lift her from Lysette.

  “Noooo! Do not let him take me, Lysette; I beg you!” she cried.

  “Then tell me what I need to know!” Telerex shouted at her.

  “Tell him, Quensi,” Lysette said, hating that the dragon would taunt her like that.

  “I went with Lavalor into the realm he created. But he began dying there, just as your men did here. Rather than die, though, he moved his soul from the body the gods gave him into that black sword. We have been living under your noses since our return. He knew about the Im’Shallene, Lysette; he saw it coming. He knows how to bring it about. Jerrous is but a servant of his. You are all fools and could never see the things that he has created. But we have! And there are many of us! He knows that if he stops Tetra, the Im’Shallene will come about, and he will rule after its rebirth!” she said.

  Lysette could feel the venom and hatred that wracked her body as she spoke, and she could smell her rotting flesh. She looked at Telerex; she was so intent on trying to comprehend why anyone would try to bring about the end of everything they had known, she did not even sense that Quensi had died.

  “You must help me find Tetra to warn her,” Telerex said to Lysette.

  “You have to help, Quensi. I know that you know how. Please!” Lysette pleaded.

  “It is too late for her; she is gone, Lysette.”

  Lysette looked down and realized that her sister had died. She laid her down and caressed her face. She closed Quensi’s eyes, knowing that Lavalor was somehow responsible. She closed her own eyes and sought Tetra out; if she could find her, she could take Telerex to her.

  As her mind-sight located her, she could see how much she had changed. She saw that she stood in front of a mirror in some dark chamber, wearing her now black armor. She knew that she was on an island somewhere and that there were mages around her. Some of them were of the white robes, but the others were not. Confused to see them working beside one another, she reached out for Telerex and took hold of his wrist. She watched as the mirror Tetra stood in front of no longer showed her reflection, but had turned dark. The blackness was now so complete that it looked solid, and Tetra leapt into it. She continued to watch as wisps of smoke escaped the reflective glass, which returned to normal after Tetra disappeared.

  Unsure, Lysette still chose to travel to the place she had seen Tetra, taking Telerex with her.

  The Elfaheen and the dragon appeared within a circle of mages, who thought that something had escaped from their portal; they began the casting of spells.

  “Hold!” Lysette shouted. “I know you and your works. Do not test me!” she said as she uttered what sounded like gibberish to those with an untrained ear. The magic that the seven mages had begun casting dissipated like a breath of frost on a winter morning, harming no one.

  “I need to know where you sent her in Asmordia; she will need aid.”

  “We will not,” Lleward told her, gathering more of his magic to himself. “Who are you who dares to challenge us?”

  The magic that the seven had begun before was made up of various defensive and binding spells. Now knowing that they faced a master of the arts, they increased their attempts by beginning some of the most dangerous spells known.

  “We are her friends,” Telerex said, which caused Lleward to look at him, recognizing him for what he was.

  “You brought her here. It was upon your back,” Lleward realized. He released his conjuring, allowing it to return to the ether from which he had gathered it. “Hold; do not cast your spells. That is the dragon that Tetra arrived upon.” The other mages also ceased their utterances and gestures of destruction as they had been commanded.

  “She is at grave risk. She has been betrayed and does not even know it. You must help us!” Telerex pleaded.

  “Dragons are loyal to none. Why should we believe you?” Lleward asked.

  “Because Tetra is o
ur only hope. If she fails, we all will perish. If you do not believe that she is my friend, then believe that I serve myself to save myself.”

  Lleward paused for a moment. “Tell us of this betrayal.”

  “The sword she carries is cursed. It carries the soul of one of us,” Lysette responded. “That is why I have come—to destroy that abomination! He is one of the creators of Asmordia and is a thief of souls.”

  “And who is that?” Tacel Dark-Crevice asked.

  “Lavalor the Mad. He seeks to gather help in bringing about the Im’Shallene. With its arrival, he intends to survive and then rule.”

  Lleward looked at Tacel. “Do you know of him?”

  “No, but as I searched Jerrous out, I was told that he serves another. This could perhaps be him.”

  “We must know where you sent her. It is too vast to wander through blindly.”

  Lleward looked over to Tacel and nodded.

  “She was not sent, just to be clear. She chose to travel to the Ash Keep,” Tacel offered.

  “We can’t send you there. We cannot reopen the portal, at least not until we recover some of our magic. Seven of us were needed to open it,” Lleward said.

  “I can get us there, but I need to know where to take us. Can you show me where?” Lysette asked Tacel, turning to look at him.

  “Lysette…” Telerex began.

  “No! There are too few of us remaining. Besides, I can’t just send you, but I can take you. There is no other way,” she replied.

  He realized that she was right; there was no other way. At least not one that wouldn’t cause a delay—one that would further risk his friend’s life.

  “I can show you,” a mage in crimson robes offered. “But you must trust me.”

  Lysette looked over to the man who had spoken. “Have we a choice?”

  “Not really. It appears that Lleward commands us to assist you, so by the tenets of our vows, I must help you,” Hindle Whitehair stated. “Shall we?”

  Lysette nodded. Hindle closed the slight distance between them, then placed a single fingertip on the center of her forehead and began drawing upon the well of magic that hid from most. It was a simple spell as spells go, and within moments he was finished.

  In the short time that he had taken to cast his spell, Lysette had noticed nothing. Upon its completion, however, she felt a brief, painless jolt of energy and could see what he had shown her, as if it were her own memory rather than his.

  Her “memory” was that of traveling through a painful, dark curtain like she had seen Tetra step through; she was flying high above the insidiously evil realm of Asmordia. She looked about as she traveled, seeing locations that she should have no knowledge of—yet she did. She concluded that Hindle had been there often enough to learn its geography and how best to seek out those of the dark realm. She saw the Plains of Glass, Maleaux Forge, and Ash Keep.

  The keep was surrounded by a huge chasm of molten stone and lava—the Ash River, they called it. The citadel of black sat in the middle of the circle on a high plateau that looked down on the rest of Asmordia. It was dark and beautiful, she admitted. It was that keep to which Tetra had traveled.

  With that flash of “memory,” Lysette opened her eyes. “I know where she has gone.”

  Telerex nodded. The elder Elfaheen took his hand this time and closed her eyes as the mages looked on. Few of them wished her luck, but Lleward was one who did, yearning to help them somehow as they both disappeared from his sight.

  Hindle walked over to the mirror and placed his hands upon it; he began citing a spell that they each knew, but few had mastered. It was a spell of “all-sight,” and it was dangerous to the one who cast it. It allowed the spell-caster to link to the vision of an individual. It required constant awareness, or else the caster could become locked away within the mind of the intended target. It often gave the unwary victim a sense of déjà vu, if he or she experienced something that the mage already had. It also contributed to the madness that would overtake the victim if the mage weren’t careful.

  Lleward would have to remember this. Hindle had been able to cast the spell without any of them recognizing it when he passed his information on to her.

  As Hindle finished the spell, he kept his eyes closed with one hand on the mirror. The remaining mages would be able to see what Lysette experienced, through her eyes. They could not hear her thoughts or anything else. It would be the only time that those who did not have the courage would ever see Asmordia. They would eventually wish that they hadn’t.

  Lysette and Telerex appeared on the edge of the grounds of the keep, the din of a battle apparent within its walls. Howls of pain and agony swept through the corridors, exiting out the doors that lay open in front of them.

  Even as intense as the heat of Asmordia was, Lysette was immune. Although Telerex was a dragon of fire, the heat was oppressively fierce for him. He knew that he would only survive for a few hours.

  He shifted his form from that of an Elfaheen back into his natural form. He lifted himself high into the air with his great wings, knowing he could best serve Tetra in his natural state.

  Tetra watched as numerous demons continued to flood the corridors that Lavalor had chosen for them to take. She had been unprepared for the onslaught of demons. Tetra fought them off as they kept attacking her from all sides; what was left of their bodies was strewn about her. A smaller, fierce beast with horns of ivory and claws of onyx leapt for her. She extended Lavalor in front of her, waiting for it. Lavalor realized that her aim was off and pushed himself to the left. The demon impaled itself on the angled point, feeding Lavalor its magic and Tetra its life. As the lifeforce of the demon fed Tetra, she no longer thirsted; her thirst had been quenched earlier with the previous kills she had accomplished. She was not so arrogant as to forget that Lavalor was also aiding her. With each kill, she felt his magic growing, just as she increased her energy and vitality. With the passing of each demon’s life, a chasm grew between her and Lavalor. Unsure of whether it was the din of the battle or an effect of the sword, she could no longer hear his thoughts.

  A behemoth demon rushed at them, pushing aside and stomping on the lesser demons to get to the Elfaheen. She rushed toward it as well, closing the distance. She swung her sword with all her might, cleaving a nearby demon from its neck down to its stomach. She pulled the blade free, then turned to her left. She would have to dispatch the second one before the greater demon reached them. Lavalor was also aware of the greater threat, and so he threw his body at the lesser demon’s hip, severing its leg. The scream from the monster was shrill and high as he fell to the ground in front of them. Tetra leapt over the crippled combatant toward their greater enemy. With mere seconds before it could strike them, Lavalor had a thought. He had felt his magic growing and thought to cast a spell. He had sat in the shadows of the darkness of the caves as Peladine learned from the Shadow Elves, and he had learned as much from them as Peladine had. He concentrated; with each remembered hand gesture, he uttered the words to himself as loudly as he could. Shards of light of various colors erupted from the blade, forming patterns in the air. He finished his attempted spell-casting and watched as a blast of ice erupted from the blade in the form of ice daggers. Lavalor waited, anticipating that the spell would be somewhat corrupted as they slammed into the greater demon’s chest. That would do, he thought to himself.

  Tetra almost dropped Lavalor in surprise as the icy winds blasted from the sword, but she tightened her grip and watched the damage that the attack did to the greater demon. The frozen daggers cut easily into his flesh. Each of them dug in as deeply as if she had thrust them with her own hand, stopping because they resembled a true dagger and their hilts prevented them from going any further. She also watched as they melted, and the demon’s blood began pulsing and erupting from its various wounds. It fell to one knee, using its left hand to keep from falling to the ground in shock and pain. She had heard Lavalor’s faint voice as he shouted his thoughts but had not understoo
d them. It had sounded like gibberish to her, but she realized that he had figured out how to cast magic from within the blade.

  She heard Lavalor shout, Now; attack now! Out of reflex, she rushed up under the demon, swinging the black sword in an upward arc at the monster’s neck. She watched as the razor-sharp blade cut as high as she could reach, slicing open its throat and showering her in its stinking ichors. She rushed out from under the beast, an unholy sight. She was covered in the demon’s blackened blood, but her eyes were bright with ecstasy and fury.

  She rushed down the corridor, and all the remaining lesser demons fled in terror, understanding the fate that she brought with her should they stand in her way. She reached the corridor that Carion had walked all those weeks ago. “Which way?” she screamed, as the din of the magic of the sword and the voices within her swelled.

  Left. Left! Lavalor shouted, so she rushed in that direction, spying the great hall at the end of the corridor. She rushed to its entrance and saw Carion and four succubi surrounding Jerrous. He sat on his throne, smiling at her. She paused, realizing that she was going to have to battle her way to him. The demon with silver fangs and wings would pose the bigger problem. She had no idea how the four feminine demons would attack, but each of them were brandishing axes and poleaxes to keep her own sword at a distance. She looked up at the gigantic arch-demon and saw that he was darkly handsome and pleasant-looking. Each horn that adorned his head was longer than she was tall; he wore armor that looked like feathered spikes of polished steel with great pauldrons that were adorned with what looked to be razor-sharp quills. He wore a cape of scarlet and a giant circlet sat upon his brow, inlaid with a ruby the size of her head.

  “And what brings you here, Elfaheen?” he asked, knowing full well her purpose. It wasn’t as if mages could travel his realm without him finding out about it; there were many who wanted him to succeed as well.

  Lavalor watched, seeing what Jerrous had become—he was ancient and powerful. Lavalor knew that he had to appear to help Tetra, but he had also never intended for her to get so close to him. But so many things had gone wrong, things that he couldn’t control. Jerrous didn’t appear to have gotten any closer to fulfilling the prophecy. What was he to do now? If he let Tetra kill him, the prophecy would never be fulfilled, and he couldn’t allow that! But he realized that at that point, she ruled the sword. In hindsight, Jerrous should not have sent his guard after her, since they had only fed his own demise. What must I do? he contemplated, angry at Jerrous.