They watched her quietly.
She took a deep breath and tucked a lock of stray hair back behind her ear before continuing. “I encountered the goddess Sabyl after I was slain by Lassiter in the Deep Roads. Before she, um… revived me in the Gray Lands, we had some words. I am to be her Chosen, in her terms. I know not exactly what that entails, but I know she wanted for me to rescue Malek, for he has a similar story of being chosen to carry out her will, although I think she hasn’t contacted him in such a direct way.”
At her questioning look, Malek nodded. “Nera’s right. I know now that the goddess took me away from the lost civilization of Valirial as a child and somehow kept me in time for centuries until she decided to release me, for reasons that are her own.”
Nera studied the others, whose faces looked surprised and even dubious.
Before she could continue, Idrimel spoke up. “The goddess Sabyl is of the neutral pantheon of deities. We should be cautious about seeking to follow her will, for it may or may not align with the side of good. Likely, the tasks Nera is to perform as her Chosen will be beneficial to Sabyl but not necessarily benevolent to all mortals.” The priestess’s face was troubled.
“You make a reasonable point,” Nera replied. “For now, it seems her interests and the interests of the rest of the planes lie in the same direction.” She decided it would be best not to mention Sabyl’s low opinion of her brother Sol, in order not to rile up the priestess.
Idrimel was already having a tough time dealing with Athyzon’s death—that was plain to see.
Nera continued, “Anyway, it’s my belief that my purpose is to restore Nexus. Everyone here knows of its plight and that if nobody does anything, it will soon become a city of the dead, much like the Gray Lands. I intend to stop it.”
There, I said it. I’ve formally committed to this Chosen quest now.
Wyat spoke up, “How do you intend to do that, Nera? You know we’ll help however we may.”
Don’t be so sure of that. She took a deep breath before unleashing her plans on them with the subtlety of a snarling wolf dropped into their midst. “I must seek out the Engineer, that figure of legend, who is imprisoned in the Abyss.”
She held her breath as a long silence filled the tent. Malek and Yosrick were nodding their heads in agreement with her. Arron looked astonished, exchanging shocked looks with Wyat.
“Sister, have you lost your wits?” Arron finally asked. “Following the wishes of a goddess is one thing, but now you’re talking about the bloody Abyss! How do you plan to get there and back? And how will you find this Engineer if you do make it there? Who’s to say he still lives even—he could be simply a myth, a legend, as you said yourself.”
“Aye, I know the plan sounds like madness, but there it is, so deal with it how you will. The Engineer has spoken to me in my dreams. I know he’s real, and I know what I must do. I will leave on the morrow, using this.” She held up the Bracer of Fellraven to show them. “The bracer will take me there. Unlike the Gray Lands, the Abyss has magic that the bracer can lock onto. We go in, find this bastard, and get out. As I said, along this path lies madness and possibly death. I won’t ask you to accompany me, but I would like all of your support—even for those who won’t follow me through the portal. And by that, I mean don’t try to convince me to turn aside, for I’ve already tried to convince myself for days now. My resolve is hanging by a thread as it is. The time has come for me to take up a cause I truly believe in.”
“You know we stand with you, Nera,” Malek said. He looked at Endira and then at Idrimel and Yosrick, all of whom solemnly nodded their assent.
“Ye’ll have me axe by yer side if ye pop this bloody collar off, mage,” Waresh said. He looked at Nera and then Malek.
The mage nodded agreement.
“You say this Engineer has spoken to you in your dreams?” Arron blew out a long, exasperated breath and peered into his tankard of ale. “Perhaps this ale is somehow tainted to spread this madness? I thought you and Malek would be the death of me back at the flat when the Magehunters captured me, but that wasn’t so. I reckon I’ve got Sabyl’s own luck—must rub off from her Chosen.” He met Nera’s eyes and suddenly grinned. “Anyway, ignore the rambling speech. You know I’ve got your back—where you go, I follow, madness though it might be.”
Nera sighed in relief and smiled. “What was all that blathering earlier, then?”
“Oh, I just had to air the objections everyone was probably thinking,” he replied with a shrug before turning to Wyat. “And what of you, my friend? Seeking a true challenge for that burly sword arm of yours? How better to test your mettle than to follow my sister on a god-given quest into certain death?”
Wyat bellowed laughter. “Balor’s balls, but you two are a couple of mad bastards! The whole lot of you.” Smiles and sheepish looks met his charge. “I’m sorely tempted to laugh you outta my tent, but I’ve known this lass since I was a boy, and I’ve never seen her so sure about anything in her life. I see you pleading for help with your eyes, holding back the fear by the width of a knife’s edge.”
Nera’s eyes widened at the big warrior’s perception. Wyat wasn’t a man known for introspection, but he could be a damn fine judge of character at times.
“Of course you’ll have my sword, Nera,” he finished softly.
Nera fought back some annoying wetness at the corners of her eyes. She walked over and embraced the big man fiercely, nearly knocking him off his seat. Then she went to Arron and did the same. Malek patted her on the back supportively.
“So when do we start?” Waresh asked with a belch. He frowned at his empty tankard. “Should be enough time to get roaring drunk before then, aye?”
The group laughed nervously and chattered amongst themselves for a moment before all eyes turned to Nera.
“What are you lookin’ at me for?” she asked. “I already said I’m no grand speechmaker. That’s all I’ve got.” She made shooing motions with her hands. “Go enjoy yourselves, get drunk, and make whatever preparations you need to. We leave in the morning.”
“Weren’t we to have a strategy meeting or something?” Arron looked around and spread his hands. “You’re the boss, of course, but just thought it might be a good idea.”
“Aye. We should discuss what we know of the Abyss and plan for each likelihood we might encounter,” Wyat added.
“Malek and I have been reviewing A Treatise on the Outer Planes, so we’ll share our knowledge,” Yosrick said.
“Fine,” Nera said. “After dinner this eve, you can plan to your heart’s content, luvs.” The tent felt suddenly confining, and she needed some fresh air. “Carry on, then,” she said in a tone that mocked Wyat’s.
The commander bowed in reply. “Aye, madam. You heard the lady—carry on! And someone get a cask of ale in here. I think we all could use some.”
***
Idrimel watched Nera go and couldn’t help but feel a stab of jealousy. The irreverent thief claimed to have been picked by Sabyl, the Goddess of the Night herself, as her own Chosen, a mortal instrument to carry out the deity’s will. Nera seemed to not appreciate the great honor, instead treating it like an onerous duty she must perform.
If Sol would see fit to select me as his Chosen, I would consider that the pinnacle of my life’s work. Odd that a neutral goddess would be concerned with the welfare of the planes—I would’ve thought she’d be more self-serving. There must be a hidden agenda that we cannot see.
She did admire the thief for her newfound sense of duty and courageous decision to lead the quest to the Abyss. After first having met Nera, she had her doubts the rogue would see the quest through to the end, wherever it may lead. But after leading the campaign ably up until that point, she had managed to impress Idrimel, instilling unexpected confidence.
Sol’s will works in mysterious ways. Who better to lead us than a thief Chosen by a goddess of shadows? I suppose that makes as much sense as anything on this roundabout quest to save Ellorya.<
br />
***
“Commander?”
Nera and Wyat glanced over to find a grizzled veteran sergeant and a handful of soldiers waiting for them near the firepit. She recognized the old warrior from a past off plane excursion that had taken them to a monastery to battle an angry spirit.
“Lumley, what’s going on?” Wyat eyed the men curiously.
“We want to join you,” the sergeant said simply.
Didn’t take long for word to spread. Nera and Wyat had been on the verge of entering the command tent for the evening strategy meeting.
“You know where we are venturing in the morn, old friend,” Wyat said. “I do not ask, nor can I allow, anyone to follow us down that dark road. This will likely be the final adventure for some, perhaps all, of us.”
“All due respect, Commander, we’re not askin’ your permission.” Lumley looked over his shoulder, and the other men, eight altogether, nodded in reply.
Their faces were serious and determined. They ranged in age from one little more than a boy to middle-aged veterans.
“Nexus is our home too,” Lumley said, “and we aren’t about to sit around on our arses while others risk their skins. Me, I’ve been on a lot of campaigns, most of them fought for coin, none for a particularly worthy cause. I’d like to be able to look back and say I took part in a worthy one when it really mattered. And if we don’t make it back, then at least I can face the gods with a clear conscience that I done the best I could to protect our home and give my wife and children a life.”
“Aye, Commander, we all feel the same.” Another man, this one dressed in armor with the symbol of a priest of Anhur, the God of War, spoke up.
Wyat looked at the men thoughtfully, but after a moment during which nobody backed down, he glanced over at Nera questioningly, as if it were her call.
“This is madness. You all should know that right from the start,” she told the men. “We’re gonna encounter all types of horrors and likely won’t make it back. Any of us. A week ago, I sure as shite would’ve stayed here in camp getting drunk on ale, so I won’t fault anyone who wants to back down. There’s no dishonor in that.”
A couple of the men exchanged glances, but they remained resolute.
“I fought beside you against that spirit beast, Nera. I seen the way you brought that bastard down. I know the boyos all respect what you done that time. Word is that you’ve been Chosen by the goddess Sabyl herself for this. I believe in you and will be honored to guard your back while you do what needs to be done.” Lumley gave her a smile, revealing a missing front tooth.
She was touched by the man’s confidence in her even if she didn’t feel it herself. “I can’t refuse them, Wyat. Like he said, Nexus is their home too, and they’ve got as much right to defend it as anyone else.”
Wyat nodded slowly. “All right. Know that we move as fast as we’re able to our destination and won’t tarry. Lumley, you’ve got command of these men in my absence. Join us for our strategy meeting. I’d advise you men to make your peace with the gods before the morrow, for you’ll need it.”
***
The strategy meeting had gone on for long hours. Malek envied Nera for having slipped away earlier, claiming to have a headache. Waresh had nodded off at least once, half a cask of ale having passed through his belly. Arguments and speculation had ensued to the point that Malek was ready to seek out his bedroll. He realized he was at the point Nera had been an hour earlier when she departed—resigned to take on whatever might rear its ugly head to face them.
Finally, he realized the group was on the verge of dispersing. Had Malek been particularly pious, he would have said a silent prayer of thanks to his deity that it was over.
“A moment, fellas.” Arron spoke up, garnering everyone’s attention. “I know we haven’t reached agreement on much tonight, but I think we can all concur on one thing at least—that Nera reaching this Wall of Lost Souls and the Engineer is paramount. She would argue with this reasoning till she’s blue in the face, but that’s the way it must be.” The half-elf’s face was resolute as he met each of their eyes.
“Yosrick and I came to the same conclusion earlier,” Malek said. “We must each face the fact that the rest of us are expendable. If I fall or get wounded to where I’m too much of a burden, I expect the rest of you to continue onward with the quest. If Nera must be restrained and dragged away, then it must be so.” Arron and Wyat both nodded solemnly when he looked to them.
“Sol has guided me to this point,” Idrimel added quietly. “The celestial, Marius, told me of Nera’s importance—somehow gleaning the knowledge that she is the one Chosen to save Nexus and, by extension, the rest of the multiverse. I will do everything in my power to see her succeed even though it cost me my own life.”
“Anyone disagree?” Arron asked.
Endira, Yosrick, Waresh, and Sergeant Lumley all shook their heads. They all looked thoughtful, reflecting on their own motivations for joining the quest.
“You all know Nera fairly well,” Arron continued. “She will resist and argue that we tarry if necessary and try to save each and every one of us who might be wounded or slain.”
“The swift completion of our quest is imperative,” Idrimel added. “Our very presence there will draw fiends from afar, hungering for mortal flesh. Just as I can sense their foul presence on my home of Ellorya, they will be able to do the same with us, and me in particular, I’m afraid. This shall be the ultimate test of my faith.”
The group fell quiet for a moment, her haunted expression and ominous words hanging heavy in the tent.
“My lady, upon my honor, I will strive to keep you safe as I would Nera or Arron,” Wyat said solemnly.
Idrimel met his eyes for a moment before blushing and looking away.
Arron cleared his throat, breaking the awkward moment. “No reason to dance around the pile of shite that’s been dealt us. The hard truth is that most of us shall fall, I expect. I’d like to make a pact that each will protect Nera and ensure that she will continue on though she might resist.”
Arron held out his hand. Malek and Wyat clasped it as one, followed by each in turn, until all their hands were clasped together for a moment. Then, satisfied, they broke up, and all went their separate ways.
Malek walked Endira and Idrimel back to their tent then sought out his own bedroll. Tired though he was, with all that was on his mind, he doubted he’d be able to find any sleep that night.
***
Waresh rubbed at his neck out of habit even though the calloused skin was free of the damned retrieval-officer collar for the first time in five years. Malek had worked his magic, and the band had popped off in an instant, to Waresh’s astonishment.
He had thought to destroy the cursed thing but had stayed his hand, instead putting it into his pack. The collar would serve to remind him of the moment he began to pay tribute for his crimes.
The group had finally broken up for the night after the meeting had gone on for so long he had inadvertently found himself examining the insides of his eyelids on a couple occasions. Wyat and Arron remained, talking quietly off to one side. Malek had walked out with the ladies, and Yosrick and Lumley had gone as well.
To his surprise, Waresh had joined their pact a few minutes earlier. This was a suicidal quest as he figured it. Any of them would be lucky to survive a day in the Abyss, and making foolish vows would shorten their lifespans even more. Despite the prodigious amount of ale he’d consumed, the alcohol hadn’t been making the decision, he realized. For once, he knew what the right call was, and he had decided. He’d noted Idrimel’s look of approval in particular, not that what the priestess thought mattered much to him.
But Nera was another matter. The thief was an enigma to him. She’d proven time and again that she was much more capable than the simple thief he’d once thought her back when he’d been assigned the mark as a retrieval officer.
He thought again of her standing before the group at the front of the tent, stoic
ally telling them of her plan to enter the Abyss. He had come to admire the lass—first after her sacrifice to slay her enemy Lassiter, and then for her sense of duty and honor to venture into the Abyss itself—a quest to save not only her own home of Nexus, but the whole of the multiverse. His own sister Sioned might have undertaken such a worthy quest.
That took some stones to stand up there and spout what sounded like madness, although now he knew it was anything but madness. The simple fact that she was alive made up his mind that she had been Chosen by her god.
Waresh emptied the last of the ale cask into his tankard, not wanting it to go to waste, and stepped out into the cool evening air. He settled down before the campfire, surprised to find nobody else around. After a long draw on his ale, he stared into the fire and tried to picture the flames of the Abyss around him.
Perhaps Reiktir’s hand is guiding me toward this. Ever since he had betrayed his companions back in the Deep Roads and they’d pursued and captured him, Waresh had a newfound clarity of mind he hadn’t had for some time, years perhaps.
He’d never been devout—anything but, in fact—a spoiled prince who had resisted growing up and shirked his duties until it was too late. After the countless innocents slain by his own hand and through his foolish actions, he felt an intense need to purge the dark stain on his soul.
I just hope it is not too late. If seeing Nera through to this Engineer will please Reiktir, then I am for that.
Chapter 6
Nera had slipped out of the tent earlier, bored with the proceedings. Initially, she had been intrigued by Yosrick and Malek’s discussion of the structure and bestiary of the Abyss. The others seemed to want to plan for every contingency, but she thought that a waste of breath. The Abyss was a realm of chaos—it was unlikely every outcome they planned for would occur anyway.
Dawnbringer Page 4
