“I’m fine. Go see if Kasyra is okay!” he snapped, still trying to find the relic.
Ari rolled his eyes and pointed to Dedricus’ usual table before speeding off to find the young woman, who had not yet reconvened with them. The Soul Prison sat upon the table, in such a manner, that it appeared to have been casually placed there. Though it had changed, as it’s grooves now shone with a lavender gleam.
Various images flashed in his mind as he placed a hand over it. Thoughts of a snowy mountain, a blackened field, and a Core Tree sapling took him over, before he finally realized he had the relic in his palm. He was confused, crushing it in his hand and shaking it. Looking at it once more, the lavender glow was gone and it had returned to normal.
Turning to leave the scraps of the building, Dedricus saw his two friends in the doorway. Kasyra, upon seeing him, tilted her head with a relieved expression. Dedricus curled his lips into a returned smile. All three let out a collective sigh, glad it was all finally over.
The tremendous loss of life did take its toll on the mercenary. Looking out at the ash and rubble, he felt a certain remorse for it. All the familiar faces he had once known were gone. Had he defeated Ravious in single combat, none of it would have happened.
Regardless, the time for mourning would come later. From the ashes, the three left Boranath. With truly nothing left in the Highlands, they head for the western coast.
Chapter 29
It was black. Everything was black. Dedricus found himself unsure of whether or not he was even alive anymore. He was whisked away from where he slept and cast into some sort of abyss. When his vision returned, he found himself in a withered field.
The grass beneath his feet was all dried and dead. Even the few trees he could spot were gnarled shells. Overhead, the sky was cut into ribbons of green and black. The ominous land sent a thousand question through his mind.
Ahead of him was a large hill topped by a massive tree, with large blackened limbs. They did not sway about, as there was no breeze in the disfigured landscape. There was no sound at all... It seemed familiar, as if that one spot called to him.
The mercenary climbed up the ridge without a second thought. To his surprise, the large hill looked down upon the city of Vigilance. The radiant capital of Nylevran, however, was in complete ruin. As smoke bellowed up from its destroyed towers, there was no fire crackling. All silent.
The scene confused Dedricus, though he couldn't feel any strong emotion towards it. Everything felt numb. He looked down to notice he was practically wearing rags.
“Hello, Boy.” an accented voice spoke from behind.
Dedricus turned to see Ravious sitting at the base of the decaying tree.
“Ravious…” he snarled, instinctively reaching for his blade and feeling a small flare of rage.
In an unusual twist, his sword was nowhere to be found. He backed away from the colossal man, who had not stirred.
“Kneel.” uttered Ravious, in a low guttural voice.
As if by the same force that assaulted him before the portal in Boranath, Dedricus found himself forced downwards. His knees hit the ground, crunching the dead grass below. The decaying foliage under him sent a burning sensation through his entire body.
“What you see before you is a vision. The future. The sky is torn asunder and the Pillars of Light have fallen. This is a world where the Soul Prison has been opened, and its great power unleashed upon the whole of the world.”
“So that’s why you want it? So you can let out this hell on everyone?”
“Do not assume you know me or my motives. Everything I have done has been for a reason. Whether you can see that reason does not matter to me. As I was saying… There is only death for you and your friends. You meddle with something far greater than yourselves. You had too many chances to surrender the Soul Prison to me, and this will be the result. Who dies along the way is on you.” the warlord said, pointing to him.
“My f-friends. W-where are they?” stammered Dedricus weakly, as he looked around, hoping to see anyone but the warlord.
“Your friends. Let me show you your friends.”
Ravious floated forward, as if he were a phantom, and placed a hand upon the mercenary’s shoulder. He pressed hard, and everything around them swirled into an abyss of many colors.
The two were transported to an empty street within the city. Smoldering debris of the gilded towers that once reached the skies, were scattered all around. Stained white clay buildings lined either side of the smoldering avenue. Though at the very end of the street was an unmoving body. Ravious shoved Dedricus forward. The push propelled him at an immense speed. Tripping close to the body, he could see it was Ari.
The Half-Elf had been cut open at the waist, leaving gore dangling out. His right forearm had been cut off and lie just a few feet away, the leather glove still on it. Even his staff had been snapped in two. Dedricus shuddered in horror, becoming clear of the numbness he felt earlier. He wished to cry, but couldn’t bring himself to it.
One thing that did have him perplexed was how his friend’s face looked. His features appeared sharper, as if he had aged. The mercenary heard and felt the heavy footsteps of Ravious approaching him from behind.
“This... I never imagined any of this. Why would you want such an awful future?”
“Awful for who? You and your friends?”
“No. This is just awful. Where is everyone?”
“Everyone is dead.”
He still couldn’t figure out why no one was there. The bodies, other than those closest to him, should have been visible. The warlord pointed up to the Brass Citadel, a large tower that rest at the center of Vigilance. Once more, he put his hand on him and the two warped forward.
At the very steps of the gargantuan tower, lay Kasyra’s lifeless corpse. She was strewn out at the base of the stairs, as if she had tumbled down them. Her back was impaled with three spears. However, the spears did not appear to be made in the style of any race living on Cyrdoma. They were demonic in appearance, made of a tortured metal.
Dedricus charged over to her, removing the spears and flipping her over. His futile shakes did nothing to wake the corpse. As with Ari, she also looked to be a little bit older. He played with the strands of her hair as he still struggled to cry
“So, you liked this one after all?”
“WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?!” roared the mercenary, rising to his feet.
“Me? I’ve done nothing. They might’ve.” replied Ravious, pointing up to the sky.
Suddenly, foul winged creatures littered the skies. They appeared to be large humanoid beasts with claws that hung like icicles and boney wings that fought the sky with every flap. Each wielded the same type of spear that had impaled Kasyra.
“Those things. What are they?”
“Demons. A single kind of many. They too will come when the Soul Prison is finally opened.”
“Is this all really going to happen?”
“I assure you it will happen. As I said, however, who dies along the way. You can change that. You have fallen through my fingers too many times now and that is unacceptable. Though this isn't over. You and I will meet again soon...”
Ravious raised his axe high above his head, ready to bring it down upon a defenseless Dedricus. He tried to raise both arms, to perform an instinctual block, but was simply too weak. The axe embedded itself into his head. There was no screaming or pain.
Once more, everything went black. He sat up with a loud gasp and looked around, only to find himself in the wilderness he had fallen asleep in. Both his friends lay, lost in dreams of their own atop the ragged sheets they had found along the way.
It had to have been a dream. Though Dedricus never had a dream that vivid before in his life. It was as if he were actually there. He remembered every detail. Looking back on it just made him uncomfortable.
Getting up, he walked towards the road. While his eyes were adjusted to the dark, their campfire had long gone out and was wary of go
ing to far. Kasyra eventually stirred and got up as well.
“Dedricus?”
“Yeah. Be quiet. Ari’s still sleeping.”
“What? What is it? Why are you up?” she said in a tired voice, rubbing her eyes.
“I just had a bad dream is all.”
“Do you wanna talk about it?”
“Yes, actually.”
“That was kind of figurative, for support, but go ahead I guess.” she replied, hopping up with her blanket draped around her shoulders and standing at his side.
“I dreamt that Ravious showed me the future. It was all horrifying. The sky was black with huge green tears in it. I was alone, you and Ari were dead, and Vigilance was in ruins.”
Kasyra smiled and gave a tired laugh as she clung to his arm. She assured him that it was nothing more than a nightmare and everything would be fine. Despite the tragedy at Boranath, countless more lives would be saved once the Soul Prison was in the right hands.
“It’s not that I don’t doubt you. Not entirely… I just don’t know if that thing could ever truly be in the right hands.”
“Well, you should worry about that when we’re closer to Delrin. We’re still two days away from the coast. For now, why don’t you get some sleep.”
“Not too sure I could.”
“Between the two of us, I have to pee really bad. So if you’re going to stay up at least like cover your ears or something.”
Dedricus laughed as she left his side to take care of business on the other side of camp. He let the chance slip by, but her own crassness spoke for itself. It was a charming quality to the young woman.
Brooding, he stared out at the road. His field of vision was reduced to a speck thanks to all the healthy pine trees. With the future as uncertain as it had played out in the dream, too many questions surged his mind for sleep to even be a possibility.
Chapter 30
They had arrived at Someral in the early afternoon, several days after the final conflict with Ravious. The seaside city was nothing extravagant. For one, it was filthy, a trait it shared with many other poorer locations throughout the Highlands.
Wooden structures of varying sizes populated the small, sloping area. Many were built at a dangerous slant, and were propped up by thick stilts. The harbor was tiny, lacking the many merchant and travel ships that populated larger ports. Market stalls were propped up along the narrow docks in an odd strategy of commerce, Dedricus simply could not fathom.
The dream was still haunting him, giving him little sleep the past couple of days. He kept resolute in front of his friends, dozing off anytime he was alone. He hadn’t had a single dream since the horrid nightmare with Ravious. In all his mind games, he questioned whether he’d ever sleep again. As he was about to doze off, the Elf returned with their tickets.
“That was damn near the last of our money, but we got three tickets in the hull of a cargo ship bound for Delrin tomorrow. Not sure how or why, but meals were included.”
“How long is the trip?” Kasyra asked as she brought a finger to her lower lip.
“About three weeks. Maybe a little less.”
“Good. We’ll be outta here soon.” said the mercenary from the shade.
Dedricus hadn’t opened his eyes yet, kicking back in one of the chairs set up by the ticket vendor’s stall. His Elven friend gave him a worried stare, but shook his head and changed the subject. The real struggle would be finding lodging for the night.
The folded up tickets crunched into Ari’s pocket for safekeeping as he asked if they had any ideas on where to stay. The mercenary kept silent, while Kasyra only shrugged. He sighed as he cursed to himself.
“Fine. I’ll just sit here and wait until one of you two says something smart!”
“Well, what do you want from me? Dedricus should speak up! He’s been a vegetable these last couple of days!” the young woman deflected harshly.
“We talked about this. You can’t lose sleep over one bad dream. We beat Ravious! Frankly, I don’t see him coming back from any of that. Besides, we finally got this stupid thing back!” the Elf spouted as he took the Soul Prison out from a ruined sack he had been using as a bag.
That act drove Dedricus awake immediately. He stared at it with wild eyes for a moment before his visage finally settled to a squint. Ari was taken aback by the reaction, putting the thing away once more. He pressed the question again, of what they’d be doing for the night.
Tearing his coin purse off his belt, the mercenary threw it to the ground. Several gold coins flew free and landed in the dirt at the Elf’s feet. Once more, he kicked his chair back and closed his eyes.
“You’re freaking out over nothing. We’ll find a place to stay, like we always do.”
“Oh, ho ho. I am? You were holding out.”
“I was waiting for you to shut up!” Dedricus snarled, pushing himself upwards.
“With you acting weird, who’s gonna do the talking. Typically, you do more than enough of that!”
Kasyra sighed and picked up the coins one by one as the two bickered at each other. Dedricus was just having his own brand of fun, while the newfound responsibility had Ari stressed out. For just a moment, a sense of normalcy returned to the group. The trip to Delrin would be long, and they could expect cold weather the farther north they climbed. At the moment, they’d just have each others company one final night in the land that first brought them together.
Epilogue
A cool rain washed over the lands of central Delrin. A snowy haired man stared out the window of a tower, looking over the capital city. He sighed and returned to the stack of papers on his desk.
He was working on an event, for the College of Magic. They had been lacking in their Aerial Magic studies. As Dean, it was his job to allocate resources for the institute. The office was lonely, but made for efficient work.
Three knocks struck his door. He sighed and set his plume down, rising to answer. Opening the door revealed a bearded gentleman, wearing an extravagant long sleeved coat and a crown that hugged his scalp. He was beckoned in and instructed to shut the door behind him.
“Michael. How are you?” the well-dressed man asked, taking a seat in one of the large office chairs.
“I'm fine. I've just got a lot on my mind. Air Magic event.”
“You know, I'm not psychic, but you get like this when you think of your son...”
Michael wished to speak, but knew the King was right. It had been a little over three years since his son disappeared. Only strife followed the Hadiel family, eventually getting them to where they were.
“Why don't you talk to me about him? I believe it's helped in the past.”
“Before he disappeared? I mean, what can I say? He was perfect, a lot like his mother. Hot tempered. Loud. Strong willed. He was my son.”
“You know he's alive, right?” the King said, rubbing his chin.
“Jargos, don’t be silly. It's been three and a half years…”
“People like that, like Lecia, they don't just die. Besides, correct me if I’m wrong, but he was trained by Maar Baruch?”
Michael cocked his head back with surprise. He wondered if his wife had ever told the King such a thing. There was no other explanation; he simply hadn’t. Dedricus’ mentor was a mighty warrior, known for his work under the government of Nylevran.
“Yes. He was trained by Maar.”
“I’d wager every cent to my name that your son is alive and well.”
“Isn’t most of your wealth actually from the Queen?”
“I didn’t know Magisters had a sense of humor!”
“I have a great sense of humor, thank you very much!”
With that, Michael returned to his work. He still had plenty to do and had grown distracted by the unwanted guest. Aerial Magic wasn’t exactly the most exciting thing to him, but it was his job and he’d put his all into it. The King pouted as he crossed his arms in wait.
“What?”
“What? What? Is that how you
speak to your King?”
“What? Wait, no. I’m a little busy Jargos.”
“Let’s see here. What do they call you?”
“Michael.”
“Michael the…” began Jargos, making a circular motion with his hand and awaiting the Magister to add something.
“Michael the Hospitable.”
“No. Not that one. The other one.”
“Michael the White?”
“There’s the money! And you know why they call you that?”
“Because of my hair?”
“Yes, and why is your hair white?”
“I don’t really know. It’s always been white…”
“Because you don’t ever relax!”
“That’s definitely not why.”
“It most certainly is.”
The Magister growled as another guest knocked at his door. The King already had him boiling. Before he could get up, Jargos shouted for them to come in. A giant of a man pushed open the door and ducked his head under the arch of the door as he entered the study.
“You always gonna run off like that?” he asked the King, raising his palms upwards.
“Isn’t finding me your job?”
“No. Keeping you safe is. If I don’t know where you are, I literally can’t do my job.”
“Hello Eric.” said Michael, not looking up from his scribblings.
Eric Frankell was the best friend and royal bodyguard of the King. The two had known each other since their youth. Jargos played a strange game of hide and seek with him, almost on a daily basis, usually winding up in Michael’s office.
“We were just discussing the Royal Magister’s son. Join us.”
“Can't. I'm here to tell you there’s more crap going on near Ouramast. More of the Northern Ogaitnan refugees are forming gangs and attacking the villages.”
The Sufferer's Chronicle_Book 1_The Soul Prison Page 14
