The Twisted Gate

by Matt Glicksman

  The Twisted Gate

  By Matt Glicksman

  Chapter 1

  Rebirth

  As the sun shifted to red in the late-afternoon sky, a young boy walked through the forest with his dog and hoped to reach home before dark. His loose, dirt-stained clothing indicated the effort of a long day's hunt, albeit a successful one. The limp body of a rabbit swung from his belt. Enjoying the sound of the leaves crunching below his feet, the boy realized his hunting companion was no longer following him. He came to a stop and found the auburn-coated dog a few yards back.

  "Come on, girl. We're almost there. We have to get back before dark," the boy beckoned. Normally an obedient pet, the mutt completely ignored her master. Her muscles were tense as she stared into the woods. The youth retraced his steps until he was next to his dog, which came up to his waist. Patting her head, he dropped to his knee and looked in the same direction as the animal. The boy made do with the little light that peeked through the trees. The area appeared to be empty and quiet, and so he squinted, hoping to see what had hooked his friend.

  "What is it, girl? What do you see?" he whispered.

  The dog's floppy ear twitched, and she let out a low growl, followed by a bark. The boy strained again to see what he was missing, but all he noticed was how the shadows around them grew larger and began to consume them. The sun was dropping below the horizon. Before he could take her collar and lead her back to the village, the dog bolted and barked intermittently. The boy cursed his companion as he took off after her and shouted for her to stop. His short legs were no match for the speed of the canine as she darted between trees and hurdled over brush. Dusk settled in, and if they didn't head back now, they would be outside the village after dark. This was not only dangerous for them physically, but the boy imagined his mother waiting for him at the edge of town to punish him for disobeying such a fundamental rule. However, he refused to abandon his friend. Within minutes, the youth found his dog motionless and silent, save for the panting. He leaned on his knees as he peered into the forest, using all that remained of the faded sunlight. The dog's ears perked up, and the boy listened as well. A soft groaning steadily grew louder.

  The ground beneath them shook violently, and a thick vine burst forth from the dirt beside them. The boy recoiled in fear and grabbed a hold of the dog's leather collar. The beast barked at the intrusion as she was slowly pulled back by her master. Another vine shot up from the ground on the other side of them, which caused the pair to stumble as they retreated. The boy heard the ground fracture and scrambled to get a safe distance from the terrifying event. Sensing that they were finally on solid ground, the boy clung to a nearby tree to stabilize himself. He clamped his eyes shut and prayed for it all to stop. As the earthquake became less intense, he cautiously lifted his eyelids. Over a dozen vines had emerged from the ground, growing thicker as they grew taller. They twisted together, spiraling to form an even larger structure that resembled the trunk of a tree. The formation surpassed the treetops, and yet the structure continued to rise. The whole incident only lasted a few minutes, but it felt much longer to the boy.

  And then, as suddenly as it all began, the earth became still. The youth released the support he had been clinging to and marveled at the structure before him. The newly woven tree trunk towered over any other tree in the forest. At the top, the tips of the vines curled back and hung a few feet from the ground, gently swaying back and forth. After such a major disruption, the boy found the situation eerily serene.

  "What the—stay," he commanded his pet as he tiptoed toward the tree. Full of awe, he watched one of the dangling vines swing harmlessly. He inched his hand forward to feel the mysterious structure.

  A loud yell came from the trunk. The boy recoiled before he could touch the vine. A second shout followed, and he was not about to stick around and find out who or what was making the noise. The sound of furious scratching from inside the massive tree was the last thing the boy heard before he sprinted toward the village. His dog followed closely behind him. The boy wildly waved his hands in front of his face to move aside branches that hindered his escape. He still heard the roars, urging him to run faster. His companion matched his pace. Too terrified to even glance over his shoulder, he only had one goal. He no longer cared about the potential punishment awaiting him in the town. In fact, he would welcome it if it meant he survived the night.

  ✽✽✽

  A voice called out in his mind, It's time now. Go and fulfill your purpose. Kill King Batar.

  Agony consumed him. Trapped in a confined space, he howled, grabbing and pulling at his hair. After a few quick breaths, he cried out again. He clenched his fists, and his long nails pierced the skin of his palm. The physical pain did little to distract him from the indescribable anguish that tortured his mind. Wishing to break free, the captive clawed desperately at the walls of his prison. He felt pieces tear away which motivated him to scratch more furiously. Another wave of agony swept in, and he stumbled back. He squeezed his head and screamed at the top of his lungs. He could barely think, but something drove him to break free.

  In the darkness, he frantically patted the walls. His fingers found a crease in the structure, and he traced it to its deepest point. He plunged his sharp nails into the crevice. His hand slid through and felt the cool air of the night beyond the wall. His breathing was erratic as he tried to tolerate the pain long enough to get his other hand through, but it was too overwhelming. With his left hand, he clawed across his chest, ripping through his clothing. Blood oozed from the fresh wound, and the physical pain provided temporary relief to his mind. Without wasting another moment, he forced his left hand through the opening to join his right. The captive gripped the two sides of the hole and pulled the wall apart. As the agony rushed back into his brain, he bellowed and stumbled out of the tree trunk. Unfortunately, his prison hadn't been the origin for his suffering. He sucked in air through his gritted teeth and buried his nails deep into the earth. He tried to combat the torment with sheer willpower, but it was useless. He raised his head and howled to the night sky.

  His claws tore recklessly at his chest and abdomen, further shredding his shirt and vest so that his torso was completely exposed. He felt the flesh being torn away and the blood pouring from his body. The pressure in his skull intensified as another wave of mental torture washed over him. His breathing quickened as he brought his right hand up and dug the nails deep into his forehead. He bared his teeth as he raked down the right side of his face and over his eye. The agony receded.

  He fell on all fours and gasped for air. In the moonlight, he could only see with his left eye as the blood—dark red, almost black—pooled on the ground. The cumulative injuries he had endured seemed to relieve the inexplicable mental pain he had first been exposed to. There was still a tingling in the back of his head, but he paid it no attention. He was finally capable of creating coherent thoughts. He examined the long, sharp nails of his claws. He didn't remember having such beastly hands. He analyzed his clothing and found the pieces to be surprisingly well made and extravagant, despite the new rips. His ornate vest hung in place thanks to a few resilient threads. As he rolled over to sit, he found his expensive linen pants soaked with blood. He noted the massive tree made of vines. How did he end up trapped inside? But, it all led him back to his grotesque hands. The blood rolled down his wrists as his claws began to shake.

  He wiped away the blood running down his face and spotted a soft glow in the distance. The light was faint but oddly inviting, and so he felt compelled to move toward it. He journeyed through the woods and wiped his face each time the blood invaded his eye. But as he made it to the forest's edge, he discovered he was no longer bleeding. On the opposite side of a clearing stood a village,
the source of the light. Encouraged by the sight of the street lanterns in the distance, he hurried across the field. He desperately needed help. The agony was slowly seeping back into his mind.

  Chapter 2

  The Nesinu Priest

  A young priest in his midtwenties strolled down the corridor of the rectory. He was dressed in a long brown robe with a black scarf that hung around his neck. The most tantalizing aroma filled the air, and he followed it all the way to the kitchen.

  "Smells great!" the priest said with a smile.

  The cook peered over his shoulder. "Don't even think about it, Don Millan."

  Millan feigned innocence. "What?"

  "You know what. You don't get any until it's ready, and certainly not before Don Skully's here. I swear, you and Tyro are just a couple of scavengers."

  Millan chuckled softly. There must be something he could snack on until dinner. He considered rifling through the pantry when a loud knock came at the front door of the rectory.

  The cook lightly banged his wooden spoon against the lip of the pot. "You best get that."

  Millan left the cook in peace and made his way to the entrance of the priests' home. The rectory only contained six small bedrooms, a kitchen, and a common area, extremely modest by the guild's standards. The young priest held his side as his stomach grumbled. The knock came again.

  "Yes, yes, just a moment." Millan swung open the door to reveal a woman. In one hand she held an envelope, and in the other, she gripped the reins of her horse.

  "Is Don Skully in?" she asked.

  "Yes."

  "This letter is for him. Can you give it to him?"

  "Of course." Millan reached for the envelope, but as he grasped it, she didn't let go.

  She locked eyes with him. "It's very important you get this to him right away."

  Millan pulled a bit harder on the letter. "Yes, I understand."

  "Good." The courier released the envelope and led her horse away.

  "May the angels watch over you," Millan called to her halfheartedly. When she didn't respond, he shook his head and shut the door. As he made his way to the room of his superior, the young priest inspected the blank envelope. Since Nesinu was such a small village, it didn't have its own Scriptorum. However, the scribes from Nolka, the nearest city, would send couriers to deliver any letters intended for Nesinu residents. The odd thing was the couriers never made any deliveries this late in the day.

  The young priest arrived at his destination and knocked softly.

  "Enter."

  Millan pushed open the wooden door to find Don Skully, an elderly man, seated behind a desk. His attire mirrored that of the young priest. The nearby candles gave off such a heat that beads of sweat covered the old man's bald head.

  Don Skully reclined in his chair and dabbed the moisture on his forehead with the end of his black scarf. "Oh, Millan, is it dinnertime?"

  "Unfortunately, no. This came for you just now."

  "A letter? At this hour?"

  As Millan crossed the room and handed the envelope to Don Skully, the entire room began to shake. Millan stumbled to the wall and used it for support as his superior stayed put in his chair. The contents of Skully's desk trembled but remained in place. The heart of the young priest pounded away as he thought back to his studies. As far as he knew, there was only thing that caused the ground to shake.

  The small tremor ceased, and despite the serenity that followed, Millan made no attempt to move. "Are you all right?"

  "Heh, I may be old, but I'm not helpless."

  The young man held up his hands as if to indicate he meant no offense. "Of course. I'm just watching out for our head don, that's all. So, what do you suppose that earthquake was?"

  "Perhaps it was just a natural tremor." Skully unfolded the letter.

  Millan rolled his eyes. "Right. Natural. What do you think we're up against?"

  "I don't know, but I suggest we go find out. Let's see what the watchers say. With a shake like that, the pods should be close enough to see."

  "Understood." The young priest headed for the door. "Are you coming?"

  "Uh, yes. You go ahead. I'll be out in a moment."

  Millan left the old man and set out for the rectory entrance. He needed to figure out what sort of threat might be coming, and the watchers would be his best source of information. Watchers were tasked with policing the citizens and guarding the towns or cities. At this hour, they would be patrolling the edge of the village on the lookout for any suspicious activity. Nesinu only had a few watchers because of its small population, but cities like the kingdom's capital, Light's Haven, employed thousands.

  The young priest exited the building to discover he wasn't the only person in the street. Although the sun disappeared for the night, people were leaving their homes to discuss the tremor that had shaken their town. Millan was searching the crowd so intently for Captain Pirok, the head watcher of Nesinu, he didn't notice the old priest had joined him.

  "Any sign of the watchers?" Skully asked.

  The young priest wasn't much taller than the average height of a villager, but compared to his hunched-over superior who leaned on a walking stick, Millan felt like a giant. He bent to speak directly into Skully's ear. "Captain Pirok's coming to us now."

  A middle-aged man dressed in select pieces of armor weaved between the bystanders. His appearance may have been considered dashing if not for the abundance of unkempt facial hair. The man approached the two priests and politely bowed. "Don Skully, Don Millan."

  "What news have you?" Skully asked.

  "No visuals yet. I can't imagine it will be long, though. A quake like that? They'd have to be close. Probably a few pods just inside the forest's edge. Maybe a dozen fray or so."

  "Really? A dozen fray?" The preliminary report excited the young priest. This would be his first opportunity to fight demons, and the fray were the weakest class, barely intelligent.

  Skully cleared his throat. "Don Millan, why don't you go find our squire? This could be excellent practice for the both of you."

  "At once." The young priest darted back into the house in search of their student. Activity outside of Nesinu was rare, and save for a major event more than ten years ago, there was scarcely any cause for concern. Millan scurried through the rectory, even though he knew finding Tyro would be easy.

  He paused outside the squire's room but continued on when he heard voices in the kitchen. Opening the door, Millan found the cook and the squire picking up food and broken dishes off the floor.

  "Ah, Don Millan, good. Can you lend us a hand?" the cook asked.

  "I'm sorry. I actually came to get Tyro."

  "Me?"

  "That's right. There could be fray upon us at any moment." Millan tried to hide his smile, but he had been waiting forever for a chance to fight demons.

  Tyro made no move to stand up.

  Millan noticed the panic on the squire's face. "Come on. You'll be fine. You've been doing great in class. And you'll be with me and Don Skully."

  Tyro got to his feet and wiped his hands on his plain clothes. As a squire, he was not yet inducted into Candelux, the priest guild, and therefore, he didn't wear a robe. The only indication that he was connected to the priests was the short brown scarf that hung around his neck.

  The cook sat back on his feet. "Fine. Go. But, I better not see any demons in here or no dinner for either of you."

  As Millan led the squire back down the hallway, he began to recite some of the blessings in his head. Which one would he use first?

  When the pair joined Don Skully outside, the old man turned his back to the crowd. "Ah, Tyro, good of you to join us."

  "Thank you, Don Skully."

  Barely able to hold back his excitement, Millan clapped his hands. "So, any news?"

  Skully lowered his voice. "Unfortunately, there's been a change in plan."

  "A change? What's happened? What's out there?" Millan cast his eyes toward the edge of town.

 
"I'm not sure yet, but I have a terrible feeling. We can't risk an attack on the village."

  "What is it? An iymed?"

  "I don't know. I wish it was easier for me to explain."

  "Please," the young priest begged. "Whatever it is, we can kill it together."

  "No, I'm afraid it's too dangerous. I need you to listen to me very carefully. You must evacuate the town."

  "Evacuate? Is that really necessary? The sun's already down. What about the Blessing of Marked Defense?"

  This was one of the spells the young priest had been practicing in his mind. After a short incantation, all the homes in the village would be protected with light energy. It wouldn't help too much against a strong demon, like an iymed, but for fray, it would do just fine.

  "Millan, please trust me," Skully insisted. "There isn't much time, and for the sake of all these people, you need to get them out of here. I want you and Tyro leading them out of Nesinu in ten minutes. The watchers can help you."

  "Ten minutes? What about you?"

  "Don't worry about me. I can handle myself. Once I discover what's out there, I'll catch up to you. Head south toward Nolka. You should be able to make it with everyone before midnight. Millan, I'm counting on you."

  The young priest understood the gravity of the situation and quietly nodded.

  Skully faced the townspeople and lifted his hands over his head, silencing the murmurs of the crowd. "Everyone, please, may I have your attention? I would like for everyone to remain calm. In light of recent news, I believe the potential threat is too great."

  "What is it, Don Skully?" a voice called from the sea of people.

  "I cannot say with complete certainty, but I believe our lives may be at risk if we remain here. I'm taking a precautionary measure and calling for an evacuation of the town." His statement was met with outrage and panic, but Skully quickly subdued the crowd. "Please. Please. I understand this is an unusual request, but I'm afraid there's no time to argue. If I'm right, you will need to get as far away from here as soon as possible."