The Twisted Gate

by Matt Glicksman

  Sundancer casually scouted the end of the room, but there was no way for her to tell who was who from this distance. "I'm fine."

  "I see."

  The bloodseeker examined the intricate design on the woman's robe. "So, you're a pinkleaf?"

  "That's right. My name is Bolya."

  "Huh, I thought Summa Arcana left Royal Oak with Drevarius."

  Bolya clasped her hands together. "Well, though our sect is a part of Summa Arcana, it was mainly the war-mages of Royal Oak that followed Drevarius to Alovajj. We pan-mages consider ourselves a different breed, much like guardians and bloodseekers, I'm sure."

  "Different skills, of course, but we're still one guild." Sundancer stretched her neck. "So, why am I here?"

  "Oh, you don't remember?"

  "Remember what?"

  The pinkleaf walked to the side of the bed. "You had an acute syncopal episode."

  "I had what?"

  "I'm sorry. I've been around healers all night. Um, in simple terms, you blacked out for a short time. Don't worry, though, you're recovering nicely."

  Sundancer was disturbed by the thought of losing consciousness while on duty. "Any idea how that happened?"

  "Oh, sure. It's very common when someone overexerts themselves post-invasive accelerated mending."

  The words jumbled together in the paladin's ears. "Post-invasive…what?"

  "Accelerated mending. More commonly known as rapid recovery. I suppose that's easier to say though not entirely accurate. You were healed quite a bit during the battle last night, correct?"

  The bloodseeker nodded. "When I encountered the demon lord, he siphoned most of my energy. I could barely stand on my own. When we evacuated the rectory courtyard, Prima Mashira and Archdon Vikard both healed me until I was able to run on my own."

  "Well, there you have it."

  "I don't understand."

  "Invasive accelerated mending is an unnatural form of healing. In cases where a large amount of energy is transferred, like yours, it typically leads to a misperception of one's own strength, a false sense of rejuvenation."

  "Unnatural? False?"

  "Yes." Bolya smiled wryly. "That's not to say it's a bad thing. In fact, it probably saved your life. This type of healing is ideal for emergency situations, like potentially mortal injuries or trying to escape a purge. But, therein lies the fundamental difference between priest and pan-mage healers."

  "Uh-huh. And so, why am I here exactly?"

  "Energy realignment. The energy the priests put into your body was scattered and unorganized. It didn't flow properly with your own natural energy. Under normal conditions, you probably would've experienced some minor fatigue as your body aligned the foreign energy with your own. However, you overexerted yourself far too soon after the mending process."

  "Because I had a false sense of rejuvenation."

  "Correct."

  "Got it." The bloodseeker briefly peered under the blanket before clutching it to her chest again. "Now can you tell me why you undressed me?"

  "Disrobing a patient is a common healing practice in our sect. To assist the energy in flowing properly, we had to remove your armor and allow you to lie naturally."

  "Lie naturally? You couldn't even leave me with my undergarments? How much resistance could they have posed?"

  "I apologize. It's simply our way. Some may seek priestly healing because of it, but no one can deny the effectiveness of our methods. This is also why we let down your hair. I must say it's a lovely shade of red. I've never seen it before."

  "Thank you. It's a first for me as well."

  Bolya cocked her head. "I'm sorry?"

  "Never mind. So, now that I'm all better, may I get dressed?"

  "Of course. Allow me to fetch your belongings right away."

  "Uh, excuse me, miss." One of the wounded sat up in a bed across the room.

  "Yes?" the pinkleaf asked.

  "I came in with another guy last night. He was stabbed in the neck." The man pointed to his throat. "He was bleeding real bad."

  "Sounds like a punctured carotid. I'm sorry, we've had many patients come in. I'll check with the other healers and see if anyone knows your friend."

  "Thank you."

  After Bolya left, the man stared at Sundancer. The bloodseeker held the blanket firmly to her chest, her shoulders exposed, and glared back at him. To her disbelief, he continued to ogle.

  "Unless you wish to lose your sight, I suggest you stop staring," she threatened.

  "Oh—uh—my apologies," he stammered. He averted his gaze, and his cheeks lit up like ripe apples. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but you're Lady Sundancer, aren't you? The Champion of the Light? The Prima's bodyguard?"

  "That's right."

  The man beamed as he made eye contact with her. "Depths! I saw when you and the Prima took down those six brutes. Oh man, the way you flew through the air and came down on that one demon. That was fangling unbelievable. How the depths did you do that?"

  "What do you mean?"

  He scoffed. "I know paladins are amazing fighters, especially champions, but that was something else. You moved so smoothly, so gracefully. It was like you knew what was going to happen before it happened."

  "I can't really explain it."

  "Oh, I…I see." An awkward silence filled the room as the man looked away.

  How was she supposed to explain years of training in something this guy had probably never even heard of? Sundancer did her best anyway. "I can see it before it happens. But not…not in my mind. It's not like a vision. It's more like…like a feeling. But more than a feeling. Does that make any sense?"

  "Sounds incredible."

  Sundancer cleared her throat. "So, you're not a paladin?"

  "Me? Oh, no. I'm just a watcher. I actually applied to join the Paladin Order a few years back, but—you know what, it doesn't matter."

  "And you were at the oak?"

  "Yup. We were guarding the east edge. You know, blocking the streets so no demons could get away from the fight. After you all left to chase down those demonic wolves, we were ordered to secure the twisted gate."

  "And what happened to your friend? The one with the neck wound?"

  "Oh, I'm not really sure," the watcher said. "When we took over the plaza, Pips and I—uh, Pips is his nickname."

  "Ah."

  "Pips and I were patrolling the perimeter when we came across this civilian in one of the alleys. I guess she somehow wandered near the twisted gate by mistake. So, we approach her, you know, to advise her to return to her home or just stay away from the area. And when she faces us, she's just the most beautiful woman you've ever seen. Oh, well, at least I've ever seen. I mean, until this morning, because you're very beautiful too."

  Sundancer furrowed her brow as she tried to understand the story, but the watcher only seemed concerned with making a fool of himself.

  "So anyway, I ask her where she lives, and she just gives me this look of horror, like she's wandered into the Den. She doesn't say a single word. We figure she's in shock. Neither of us recognized her, so we decided the best thing to do was to take her to the inn. As we're heading toward the Golden Branch, the ground starts to shake real bad."

  "The purge?"

  "Exactly. This woman falls over and clings to Pips. So, we take shelter next to a building to keep our balance. This goes on for a couple minutes, I guess, and when it's over, she's grinning. She's rubbing his arm, you know, acting all friendly. She's got this sly smile on her face, and she gives him a wink. Any Dardan fool could figure out what she was getting at."

  The bloodseeker rolled her eyes. "Mm-hmm."

  "Now, Pips is a good guy, but he's got no girl, and now he's got a gorgeous one hanging on his arm. And I know we're on duty, but I feel for the guy. So, before we continue on, I wait while she leads him down a side street. Next thing I hear is this choking sound. When I turn around, this woman charges at me with a knife. She slashes me across the chest and knocks me to the ground. If it was
n't for my height, I'm sure she would've gone for my fangling throat."

  The watcher pulled his covers down to reveal the scar from the bottom of his sternum to his right shoulder. "Next thing I know, people are calling for help. The woman drops the knife and just takes off running. I look over, and there's Pips walking toward me, holding his neck with blood just pouring down his arm. Depths, I hope he's all right."

  "This woman. She didn't speak at all?"

  "No, I asked her her name, where she lived. Nothing. She didn't say anything the whole time. I just assumed she was too scared to."

  "Hmm. Do you at least remember what she looked like?" Sundancer asked.

  "I don't think I could ever forget." The watcher closed his eyes and rested his head against the wall. "She had long, straight hair, pitch-black. It did a fantastic job framing her face as it snaked elegantly down her neck. Her eyes were so inviting, the kind that just put you at ease. Dark blue, like the sky at dusk. Her lips were a pale red. She wore this dress that clung to her body in such a way that you saw everything without seeing anything. I don't know how to describe it. I did think it was a little long, though. The bottom dragged along the ground, but who cares. That red dress fit her perfectly."

  ✽✽✽

  The room bustled as nine of the archdons from Royal Oak stood in an area no larger than a small classroom. At the front, Mashira sat on a plain chair with two others on either side of her. On her right were the two advisors who had just arrived from Light's Haven. Advisor Ayristark, a man of great importance, looked the part. Though not exceedingly tall, his presence still dominated. His hair was graying, but he looked quite young for someone in his sixties. The Talisman had treated him well during his reign as Primus. Advisor Cole, in the next seat over, was in his fifties with no sign of hair atop his head. With a scowl stamped across his lips, he appeared perpetually displeased.

  On the Prima's left rested Advisor Deidok and an empty chair. Deidok was nearly twenty years older than Ayristark and looked exactly his age. His eyes were closed but fluttered open when a sharp knock came at the wooden door. Sundancer and Advisor Razza Merona entered the room.

  "How are you both feeling?" Mashira asked.

  "Fine," the paladin said flatly.

  "I'm feeling well, thank you, Your Luminescence." Razza took her seat next to Deidok.

  "I think we're ready to begin then," the Prima said.

  The archdons from Royal Oak quieted down and lined up in a row before their leader.

  "I want to thank you all for coming this morning. I know you were all helping with the barricade or the wounded and probably didn't get much sleep, if any. I'm pleased and grateful that everyone is helping where they can. However, there are matters we must resolve before I return to Light's Haven.

  "Some of you may or may not have heard that Archdon Scarit has resigned as head archdon of Royal Oak. Over the past few years, his health has been in decline, and the attack last night made him realize it's time for someone else to take his place. Considering the state of Royal Oak, I do not wish to leave here today without putting a leader in charge, so we'll skip the formal interviews. Since Archdon Westan is still seriously hurt from his burns, he will not be included in this process. And as for Archdon Omana…"

  Mashira inconspicuously observed Ayristark. His worn face showed no sign of sorrow, but the Prima sensed his pain over the loss of his former advisor. Though Mashira herself had never been close to the archdon, Omana had been a dear friend of the family. She had taught Mortis the Blessing of the Fallen Angel.

  The Prima returned her focus to the row of archdons. "Archdon Omana and Don Millan were caught in the purge last night and are presumed dead. The Council has assembled here so we can choose a new head archdon. If any of you wish to be considered, please step forward now."

  The priests in the black robes and white scarves looked among themselves, but none moved out of line. Typically, when choosing a new head, there were many candidates vying for the spot. However, given the state of Royal Oak, Mashira wasn't at all surprised with their reaction.

  "If it's fear or modesty that holds you back, that is not what this city needs right now. They need someone to take charge, someone to look to for help. Do not abandon your own city in this time of peril. They need a leader."

  "They need a healer." Vikard broke formation and bowed before the Prima and her advisors. "If it pleases the Council, I offer myself for consideration to become the next head archdon of Royal Oak."

  Deidok perked up. "Archdon Vikard is correct. What this city needs most is to be healed, to be rebuilt. It needs someone with a caring heart."

  "Does no one else wish to be considered? Let no one say the opportunity wasn't given." After a long pause, the Prima addressed the sole candidate. "Very well. Come forward, Archdon Vikard. As is the custom, will you allow the Council to evaluate you?"

  Vikard inched forward and dropped to one knee. "I will."

  "My trusted advisors, if you have any questions for Archdon Vikard, please ask them and give me your final say."

  Deidok spoke first. "In these perilous times, it seems we do not have the luxury of time. I know of Archdon Vikard through his father and through his own reputation. I have no questions to ask, and I have already given my say. The city needs a healer. Maybe he cannot use his power to rebuild, but he has the right mentality. Archdon Vikard has insight and intellect. He will make a fine head archdon."

  With Deidok's opinion given, Ayristark started his line of questioning. "How do you plan to safely rebuild the city?"

  "Like closing an open wound, we must complete the barricade," Vikard explained. "Our top priority will be to keep the people safe. After that, we'll rebuild the wall during the day. And at night, I'll assign priests to join the watch, including an archdon. I'll also petition the paladins to help as well."

  "And what are your plans for the people that have lost everything in the purge? Will you help them?"

  "We'll help if we can. People in dire situations will be encouraged to look to friends and family outside the city for help until Royal Oak is restored."

  "And if they have none?" Ayristark asked.

  "Then we'll do the best we can to accommodate them, but we ourselves have lost the rectory. I won't force anyone to open their homes to strangers, but I would hope that some will follow my lead."

  "You intend to open your home to people you don't know?"

  "Not exactly," Vikard said. "I know these people. I've lived with them for the last ten years. I wouldn't consider anyone in this city a stranger."

  "And what happens after the city is rebuilt, and everything returns to how it once was? Will you still take strays into your home and care for them?"

  "As a last resort, perhaps. No one should be turned away. But when the city is whole again, the rectory will be there for those who need it."

  "Hmm, you are your father's son," Ayristark said with little emotion. "A bit idealistic, but that will slowly change. As no one else will step forward, this shows me you have courage and you'll do what needs to be done. And not for yourself either. I offer this piece of advice, though. Human life is sacred and should not be devalued ever. But be mindful of those who constantly seek help because they are too lazy to help themselves. These are the lowest of our society because by believing your time is best spent helping them, they are in fact devaluing your life. I would also recommend you work closely with the nobility of the city. The help of the duchess may prove invaluable. I am in agreement with Advisor Deidok."

  "Thank you, Advisor Ayristark. I won't forget your words."

  "Advisor Razza Merona, would you like to go next?" Mashira asked.

  "My apologies, Your Luminescence," Razza said. "I haven't had time to think this over, and I'm still recovering from my injury. Advisors Deidok and Ayristark speak well, and I trust in their wisdom. But I also trust yours as well. I'm in agreement with your final decision."

  "Very well." Mashira pivoted in her chair to face her final advisor. "A
dvisor Cole?"

  Slouched with his head propped up by his fist, Cole said, "No one else stepped forward, so you're the only choice. There's nothing to add."

  Mashira was disappointed in the comment. At a critical moment like this, the Council needed to show strength and confidence in their decision, not apathy. She pushed on the arms of her chair and rose to her feet. "Archdon Vikard, I have seen you in battle. You are always where you're needed most. You have a quick mind, and you've seen firsthand the terror our kingdom must now face. I concur with my advisors. And so, I, Prima Mashira, witnessed by the Council and all others present, hereby bestow upon you, Archdon Vikard, the title of head archdon for the city of Royal Oak. May the angels give us strength and guide us. May the angels watch over you."

  "And you as well," Vikard said.

  "Arise, Head Archdon Vikard. There's much work to be done. We'll be in constant contact with you during these trying times. Please don't hesitate to petition for aid from other cities."

  "I won't."

  "Unfortunately, we'll have to postpone the celebration for now," Mashira said. "I ask that you go and tend to your city. The Council has another matter we must discuss in private."

  "Of course. Thank you." Vikard bowed, then stood to face his colleagues. The Royal Oak archdons swarmed around him to offer their congratulations. The group steadily moved as a cluster toward the door and squeezed past the threshold.

  Mashira turned to her bodyguard. "I'm glad to see you're doing well, Lady Sundancer. Would you please excuse us and close the door when you leave?"

  The paladin obliged and departed. As the door to the small room banged against its frame and latched into place, the four advisors rearranged their chairs and angled them toward the Prima.

  Mashira's eyes darted between each of her advisors. She knew the next topic would be far more difficult to discuss than selecting a new head archdon. The Prima inhaled deeply and allowed the air out slowly. "In light of recent events, a thought comes to mind. I'm deeply conflicted over this, and so I need your help. Do we seek help from the Death Gods?"