by Paul Yoder
Wounds opened up, massive slits appearing along his skull, arms and deep pools of sickly blood drenching his rags as she tore at the walls of corruption in Nomad’s soul. The gash in Nomad’s back opened, disgorging volumes of black sludge onto Yozo. He held tight, refusing to let go as Nomad continued to convulse and break apart right before their eyes.
Another hellish scream released from his blood-caked lungs, the exorcism at a fever pitch now.
The ring committed one more wave of its aether before going dark to her, and Reza began to feel the shield of Elendium begin to fade, giving way to the clawing demons at the walls of Nomad’s soul. She had to finish her healing before she was overtaken. She was about to stand alone against the full brunt of what resided within Hiro’s shackled body and mind.
Having done what she could to reduce Telenth’s influence within, she turned her remaining energies to his physical health, which was fast on its way to the lychgate.
Nomad yelled once more, though this time, no hellish undertone sounded behind him. It was a scream of agony, but it was the scream of a mortal.
She had so little time, she knew, and she surged her life into his, recklessly now, the ghostly light of Henarus, the last remaining light, quickly began to leave her, leaving her alone to deal with her task.
“Sareth!” Reza shouted the name of her god in hopes that her simple plea would be heard.
Nomad’s wounds began to quickly stitch back up, the white, blue skin that had marbled over the loss of so much blood, beginning to regain hue once more. Nomad’s face, once lacerated beyond recognition, began to come together, his jaw snapping back into place, another gasp, ragged, but deep, rattled his chest to full capacity before letting out a hacking cough, struggling to breathe as he lurched forward, attempting to sit up, Yozo allowing him some guided autonomy now.
Reza lost control, her life seeping freely from her without her consent into Nomad. The chanting had stopped, and as Nomad lurched forward, Reza’s grip on his skull released, abruptly ending her spiraling connection.
Helping hands caught her just in time before slamming to the floor, everything turning to black, with whispers of distant demons following her into unconsciousness.
21
Awake
“Reza. Hey there, you awake?” Arie’s voice called to her, cutting through the veil of sleep just before consciousness.
She groaned in response, not able to quite comprehend words just yet, still struggling to break through the haze of sleep.
“Good. Take your time. You were out for a good while. We’ve been waiting for you to come around,” Arie said, patting her on the shoulder as Reza started to sit up on her elbows in bed.
“Arie, what happened?” she said, rubbing her eyes hard, yawning as she blinked awake, taking inventory of herself and the situation.
“Here, it’s chilled coconut milk,” she said, handing Reza an earthenware cup filled with a cool white liquid. “You were out for four days, almost five now. The sun is setting in an hour or so. The first day after the healing ritual, you were touch and go. The doctors didn’t know if you were going to make it or not, but late that night, your heartbeat, temperature, and breathing started to rouse and remain consistent.”
Reza gulped at her milk, so thirsty it hurt as it went down her throat. She knew better than to gorge herself so quickly, but she was so parched that her instincts made her throw caution to the wind.
“Nomad,” she said, putting down the cup, catching her breath, questioning Arie, “has he recovered at all? I remember—a great deal of blood. Oh god—” she gasped, memory quickly catching up to her of the moments just before everything went black, awash in a tangle of demonic laughter and pain.
Arie embraced Reza. Though she had been outside of the room upon the healing, she had come in afterwards to help carry her to the hospital ward where she had been cared for, and there had been blood…lots of blood. She knew that whatever Reza, Nomad, and the others had gone through during that ritual had been akin to spending a brief moment in hell. She had heard the howls and screaming and chaos from within. She knew that Reza should be rattled from participating in such a traumatic experience.
“It was more than just your vitals that worried the doctors; you seemed stuck in a bad dream. You sweated through that first day, crying, struggling with something only you could see.
“Henarus came, as did Terra, that young girl that was present with you during the healing,” Arie mentioned, not sure if Reza had officially met the young girl yet.
“Henarus had said you had some kind of feedback from Nomad, that your spirit had been singed, so to speak, by the corrosion of Nomad’s curse. He prayed over you and seemed satisfied once you got over the initial troubles that day that you’d be fine, but still, I do not envy what you bore witness to looking into Hiro’s mind and soul. I can’t imagine how dark that place must have been before the healing.”
Visions of dark things crawling, scratching, slowly making their way up to her came barreling back all at once. Nomad’s mind, drowned in blood red. A red doused in rage and pain, the clawing things skittering everywhere. She had only been there a few moments, and even then, she had, for the most part, not been there alone, Elendium acting as a barrier there with her. But for the amount of time she had been there, it had been a confusing pit of despair, spiteful sharp things whirling, raking, searing.
Even as she breathed now, she remembered how hard it was to breathe then. The feeling of ash in her throat, in her sinuses, in her lungs. It had felt as though she had fallen in a sea of ash, falling deeper and farther away from clean air, inhaling it all, but still being allowed to live somehow. So many sensations all at once, it was hard to keep track of it all, and that, for her, made it that much more difficult to find a way out. She had no chance to focus, to escape.
“Yes, I remember now…,” Reza voiced, staring off as her thoughts ran amuck with dark imagery and painful memories.
“Nomad,” Arie prompted, bringing Reza’s attention back to her, “he’s doing much better now. He’s close to his old self!”
“Close,” Reza repeated, that one detail standing out starkly to the rest of what she had to say. “He still has the curse then?”
Arie’s attempt at changing the tone of conversation to a more positive note, withered. Sighing slightly, she nodded her head, explaining, “That wound on his back is still open and bleeding black. He’s maybe reverted to where he was before we set out to Jeenyre.” She paused for a moment before catching herself slipping into her own thoughts. “He’s back though, for now. You can go see him soon enough.”
She looked down to the quilt upon her lap in bed, taking everything in, almost in shock that Hiro, who had been the focus of her life these past few months, was in a better way than he had been.
“We would have never gotten him here if Cavok hadn’t of been with us.”
“Us? Oh—Yozo. He joined up with you three? He was dead-set on killing Hiro,” Reza replied, scooting back to lean on the headboard of the bed, starting to feel fatigue setting in from holding herself up for so long.
“He’s been causing a lot of trouble,” Arie said, shaking her head, considering what to complain about first.
“He tried to kill Hiro one night. He might never attempt that again—outright at least. Cavok made sure of that, for better or worse.”
Seeing that Reza was getting lost at Arie’s cryptic comments, she looked up, resetting, starting back at the beginning for Reza.
“He showed up when you were with Leaf in the woods—it’s a long story, but Yozo followed us and started performing rituals on Nomad, making him docile so that we could actually get some traveling done. We had been traveling so slow, and Castle Sephentho scouts trailed us all the way to Ashfield. We were planning on buying horses there but had to head off trail to lose the scouts. We knew he was a threat to Nomad, but we needed him to keep Nomad compliant.
“We kept watch on him at all
times, but he was sneaky, very hard to keep track of. I guess one night Cavok caught him hurting, or about to kill Nomad, and so…Cavok did what he does, beat the living shit out of him. I mean, he thrashed Yozo so badly, well, I guess you saw his face in the prison cell.”
Arie took a moment to collect her thoughts, her recollection of that night still raw.
“He was almost dead by the time I showed up to deal with the mess Cavok left. He was gone the rest of the night, leaving me to worry and attempt to keep both Yozo and Nomad alive. There was so much blood.”
She stopped, took a deep breath, then moved on with the story.
“He’s only been in a room twice together with Cavok. When we were in the jail cell, and the other night when we all had a council. It almost ended in disaster. He drew his sword after Cavok said something demeaning, and they were at each other’s throats. Metus almost banished him right there and then, but gave him a warning, and the two are not allowed within sight of each other from here on out while in the city walls.
“He’s also been hounding Metus about a trial for Nomad. He’s just a lot to deal with right now, but other than him and Cavok, we’re all just happy Nomad is up and about, and now you too,” Arie said, and she could tell the relief in Arie’s voice was genuine regarding both their revivals.
“I’d like to see him,” she stated, rather than asked. She tested her strength, starting to sit up in bed, swinging her legs over the side.
“Hold on, Reza,” Arie said, holding a hand to her chest, “I need to get the doctor in here to check up on you. Patience. And besides that, we’ve been waiting for your awakening to hold a council of war, one without Nomad present.
“I’ll get the doctor. You wait here until you’re called for. I’ll notify everyone who’s coming to the council.”
Reza paused for a moment, considering the implications of a war council as Arie rushed out of the room, leaving her alone, the warm breeze blowing in from the open window. The fresh air felt good, her lungs taking it in, affirming to herself the ashen death that she had experienced was all in her head.
She stood up, a bit shaky at first, but after having righted herself, she started to ease into some stretches there in the center of the room in her patient garments.
The doctor came not soon after, commending her for her form, even after a short coma. He was better than most of the medics she was used to, not ordering her back in bed and shoving medicine at her or prodding her in all sorts of places to perform tests.
After a quick checkup, he was satisfied that all she needed was to take it easy the next few days. He had a meal, drink, and a change of clothes brought to her. He left her shortly after so that she could finish her stretches until the meal came.
The greasy cracked pepper chicken thighs were a welcomed sight—her body hungered for dense foods—and the small loaf of the buttered hefty nut, seed, and dried berry wheat bread was gone all too quickly. There was a half cup of wine that loosened her up more than she thought it would, and she downed another cup of light coconut milk.
The meal, and more than likely, the wine, had gotten her in better spirits. She took some time after her meal to wash up at the wash basin that was in the room.
A servant waited outside her room while she cleaned and came in directly after, checking her clothes to her body type with the small wardrobe she had brought with her.
The clothes were too fancy for Reza’s tastes, most not seeming all too practical for use, but she ended up picking out a white, wide-sleeved blouse with a black tapered overcoat that hung down at an angle to her knees. The boots and gloves were extraordinarily soft suede, and minus a few cluttering embroidered designs, she thought the wide belt and sandy half mantle to be nice touches to the outfit.
On the way out, the fitter greeted Arie as she came back in to see Reza doing much better than when she had left not an hour before.
“My my, you cleaned up neatly,” Arie said with a smirk, approving of the choice of clothing Reza had decided to go with, smoothing down the ruffles along her sand-colored mantle.
“I could have just gotten my old clothes to wear, I didn’t need to be given new ones,” Reza said flatly, never the one to enjoy the thought of receiving gifts or things for free.
“They’re washed, but your old clothes took a beating on the trail. I still need to get someone to patch them up.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m clothed, I guess that’s what matters,” Reza replied, shooing away Arie’s fiddling hands, taking a seat on the bedside, still a little weak from the days that she had been out of it.
“So a council, you say? Who’s attending? Has Fin made it back yet?” she asked, yawning, still a bit sluggish from the extended sleep.
“Yes, the council. Everyone but Nomad should be there. Fin hasn’t showed up yet. I was going to ask you about him. He had said he was going to be watching after you—hopefully everything’s alright with him, Cavok is more than in a sullen mood about it all, especially with Fin unaccounted for.
“We’ve all been waiting for this meeting, so really we’re just waiting on you. You feel up to it this evening? That’s when Leith said she wanted to schedule it. That will give us enough time to brief you on the details. She’ll be wanting to speak with you as soon as possible—Metus too. He’s been pulled many ways with all this and trying to run Sheaf.”
Though she wanted to visit Nomad, meeting with all parties sounded prudent. Nodding her head in agreement, she wrapped her arms around Arie, embracing her for a moment, whispering, “Thanks, Arie, for sticking with me.”
Arie was slightly shocked by the sudden gesture, a hug very out of the ordinary for Reza. It was nice to see her give room for a bit of heart for once.
“I’m realizing that each other—we’re all we have,” Reza said, sitting back in her bed, looking more at peace than Arie ever remembered her being. “That’s why we’ve got to do what we can for Nomad right now. The gods came through in that cell for us that day. It seems we really do have their blessing to go ahead with our course. I actually think we might have a chance at breaking this curse once and for all.”
Arie smiled in return, though, to Reza, it seemed she was just returning the sentiment. To have hope for a happy ending at that point after seeing such horrors seemed destined for disappointment.
22
Council for the War to Come
Arriving in the conference room with Arie, Reza found her scabbard and a pouch of her personal belongings set neatly on the large war table Arie had sent for a bit earlier.
Buckling and looping her sword belt along her hip, tying her pouch along her waist sash, she took out and put on the ring that had once held Isis’ spirit within.
Though she no longer felt the woman’s comforting spirit, or saw the blue mist swirl about her, illuminating the dark places as it once had, she could feel the ring’s power radiate from within, an earthy, raw power lurking just beneath the surface, ready for her to tap into its aether wells upon need.
There was a light knock at the door and Leith entered the room, followed by a chatty Yozo, who seemed in a much better mood than usual, as often was the case when he was in Leith’s company, Arie noted.
Leith and Yozo’s attention turned to Reza and Arie, hesitating before quietly attempting to finish their conversation.
“Reza, it is good to see you on your feet. You had us all worried,” Leith said, a slight smile on her usually stern face.
Reza nodded, accepting the greeting, though, her attention was upon her company, Yozo.
Reza addressed him directly, images still fresh in her mind of how he had sliced Nomad open on the road those many weeks ago. “You share lineage with Nomad, do you not?”
Though his mood had been brighter than usual in Leith’s presence, it soured slightly at the mention of Nomad. “To my misfortune, I do.”
“It should be no misfortune to be tied to one so honorable as Nomad. He has done much to serve thi
s land and the people that live here,” Arie interjected, who seemed more fed up with the man than anyone else in the room.
Yozo’s demeanor continued to turn. “With respect, you do not know him as I do. Whatever honor he has shown this nation was not present back in our homeland. He did not show honor when dealing with his own people—his own family.”
Reza answered for everyone with her reply. “With respect, Yozo, you do not know him as we do. Though you may know his past, we know his present, and in the end, the present—here, now—is where our true identities lie, not in the shrouded tapestries of our past lives.”
Yozo did not have a response to their rebuttals, but his mood did not lighten on the subject, leaving the rest of the room awkwardly silent as more footsteps sounded outside the room, signaling the entrance of more attendees.
Sultan Metus entered the room, his two sentinels standing guard outside; Ja-net, Terra, Henarus, and a strong jawed, smartly dressed gentleman filing in afterwards. Metus went to have a seat at the head of the council table, instructing all to follow suit.
Everyone settled in at the long hardwood table and the room quieted as Metus began to lay out a roll of parchment that he had brought with him.
Leith, sitting next to Metus, held pen and parchment, ready to jot down notes of the meeting. He whispered a few private words into her ear, meriting a nod from her and a quick response, then Metus turned his attention to the rest of the table, flashing a warm smile to Reza as he made eye contact with her. He cleared his voice and began to address everyone present.
“Thank you all for arriving in a timely fashion. You are all here for the protection and sense of duty you each feel in protecting not only this kingdom, but the regions all around from a common threat of evil that plagues these lands. Telenth and his followers—even his most powerful followers—have no right to our lands, and we will fight for our way of life, freedoms, and the safety of our people to the last. You are some of my finest allies—our first line of defense, and for that, you will ever have the Plainstate’s thanks.
