Dimwater's Demons

by Sam Ferguson

  The young girl glanced to the headmaster, and then to Kyra. She almost shook her head as if to defy him, but the wizard pulled her up and gave her a slight shove toward the door.

  “Move along,” Herion said roughly.

  Kyra nodded to Linny to show she would be all right without her. Linny nodded back and then closed the door behind her.

  Headmaster Herion fumed as he paced back and forth in front of her.

  Kyra opened her mouth to try to head off the tongue-lashing she was surely about to receive. “Headmaster, if I could say something—”

  Herion spun on her and held a finger out in front of his face, eyes wide and crazed looking. “You may not!” he shouted. “Do you have any idea what you have done?”

  Kyra shook her head.

  Headmaster Herion put his hand into his pocket and pulled out a parchment. He tossed it into Kyra’s lap and then pointed at it. “Open it!”

  Kyra did as she was told and unfolded the letter.

  “Go on, read it!” Herion said, fuming again as he began pacing anew.

  Kyra looked down and read the words.

  Esteemed Headmaster Herion,

  It is with the greatest respect that I must inform you of an infiltration of dark magic and monsters in the Middle Kingdom. With a burdened heart, I am compelled to report to you that the Pools of Fate have made it known to me that there shall be an attack on Caspen Manor tonight. I should like to ask for your assistance in protecting Kyra, as she is a dear friend of mine and I should not like to see any harm befall her.

  If possible, please send a few of your masters to Caspen Manor. I may need some help protecting the people there.

  Yours in magic,

  Njar

  Kyra frowned and read the letter again. This is what the headmaster was furious about? She looked up to the man and shrugged. “This is a warning letter. He was trying to help.”

  “Trying to help!” Herion shouted. “Do you have any idea who Njar is?”

  Kyra nodded. “I know he leads a tribe of satyrs in Viverandon. He is a wizard, like you.”

  Herion shook his head. “He is nothing like me, dear girl!” Herion spat. He snapped his fingers and a chair materialized in the room in front of where Kyra sat. “Have you never heard that satyrs are tricksters and fiends?” he asked. “Have you never read anything about those terrible creatures?”

  Kyra scowled at the headmaster and shook her head. “He has been nothing but kind to me.”

  “How did you meet him?” Headmaster Herion asked.

  Kyra closed her mouth. She was not about to betray Njar. It was he who maintained the aspen wood to help Leatherback.

  Headmaster Herion sat in the chair and leaned in close. “Does he know about your dragon?”

  Again, Kyra said nothing.

  “All right, be silent if you must, but you will listen.” Herion leaned back in his chair and folded his thin arms across his chest. “Njar is not who you think he is. I don’t care if he has been nice to you or not. He is a traitor, and an enemy of the Middle Kingdom.”

  Kyra drew her brow in together and shook her head. “You’re wrong,” she said.

  Herion shook his head slowly. “No, I am not. Did you know he once led an army against the Middle Kingdom? It was before King Mathias’ time on the throne, but it’s true. Njar led an army of four hundred satyrs against us. They had called a meeting to discuss balance in the Middle Kingdom, and the effects of Nagar’s Blight since the Battle of Hamath Valley. So, King Jarek, Mathias’ father, took a host of officers out to Kelboa, an island in the sea to the north west of here. Njar arrived by ship, accompanied by three of his so-called councilors. They went into the meeting place, a manor that no longer stands, and started the talks. By all accounts from the survivors, the king led a peaceful summit there, but Njar had betrayed him. Instead of coming to discuss a way to rid our lands of the curse, portals opened up in the manor and the satyr army came rushing in. They killed all but three men. A wizard named Dremathor, who was close to the king, escaped in the fury and was able to take down more than a quarter of the satyr army. He has never been heard from since, and it is widely believed that he later died from the wounds he suffered there. The other two survivors were a pair of young wizards. One you know as Cyrus, the same man who rescued your mother.”

  Kyra’s eyes shot wide. Cyrus had never mentioned anything like that before, but then again, Kyra had never told him of Njar before either.

  “Before you start to come up with more excuses, I should tell you that I was the third wizard,” Headmaster Herion said. “I was much younger then, but I was there and I remember it like it was yesterday. I can still smell the stench of blood and charred flesh.” Herion stood up and shook a fist at her. “I held my dying king in my arms and watched helplessly as his life ebbed out of him. Njar and thirty of his soldiers were able to escape death, but they had dealt our kingdom a major blow that day. One the likes of which I shall never forget.”

  Kyra shook her head. “No, this must be a mistake. Njar wouldn’t do that. He is peaceful, and only fights if he must. There has to be something else.”

  “I was there,” Headmaster Herion said. “You were not. If you don’t believe me, then you should talk with Cyrus.”

  Kyra held her hands up and looked away. She needed time to think it through. This didn’t sound anything like the satyr she knew.

  “You should know something else,” Herion said. “After I received this letter before dusk, I sent the priests out to find your dragon. He is gone.”

  Kyra frowned and shook her head. Tears welled up in her eyes. “No, that can’t be right. He never leaves that area.”

  Herion slapped his hands together. “If you have just handed a dragon to Njar, then we are all in a lot of trouble.”

  Kyra stood up. “You’re wrong,” she said. “Njar is the one who helped me and Leatherback. He brought us to the aspen wood that shields Leatherback from Nagar’s Blight. His efforts must be working, because even the priests from Valtuu Temple say there is no taint to be found in Leatherback.”

  “Kyra, you are dangerously close to expulsion!” Herion shouted.

  “Then expel me!” Kyra yelled back, not giving an inch of ground. “You think I like living here and seeing Feberik? Go ahead and send me away. My father has already denounced me after my mother’s murder, so why should I care if you want to send me away too?” Kyra’s hands balled into fists and her eyes would have melted the wizard like wax had she had that kind of power.

  Herion was about to say something else when the door burst open. He and Kyra looked to the doorway and saw Lady Arkyn, a beautiful blonde-haired half-elf.

  “I have the report,” she said.

  “Out with it then,” Herion said.

  Arkyn nodded. “There are four human casualties at Caspen Manor, all of them are Blacktongues.”

  “Blacktongues?” Herion echoed. “I thought them extinct.”

  Arkyn shook her head. “There is more. I found a small clearing with scorch marks all around and trees that had been splintered and burned. In the clearing, I found three ash piles. I collected samples.” Lady Arkyn moved her hand to a small leather pouch and produced three glass vials filled with gray ash.

  Headmaster Herion took the glass vials and turned them over as he held them up in the sunlight. He whistled through his teeth as they sparkled and shimmered a strange, greasy purple color.

  “They are the remains of wraiths,” Lady Arkyn said.

  Herion nodded his agreement. “That they are.” He gave the vials back to her. “What of the servants, and Lord Caspen?”

  Lady Arkyn shrugged. “None of them saw anything. One of the servants heard an explosion and later saw smoke rising from the forest, but no one saw any sign of an attack until I arrived and found the Blacktongue bodies.”

  Kyra then asked, “Do Blacktongues wear tattoos across their bodies?”

  Lady Arkyn nodded.

  Kyra folded her arms and looked back to
Headmaster Herion. “I opened a portal to the woods outside my old home. I would have walked through, against Njar’s orders for me to return here, but Leatherback pulled me away. As I was held in the air, a Blacktongue came through the portal and looked as though he wanted to kill me. Leatherback stomped on him and tossed him back through the portal. Now tell me, does that sound like Njar was trying to hurt us?”

  “Njar?” Lady Arkyn asked. She turned to the headmaster. “You didn’t mention he was involved.”

  Herion waved Arkyn off. “Did you see any sign of him?”

  Lady Arkyn shook her head. “None,” she said.

  “Speak of this to no one,” Herion told Lady Arkyn. She nodded her head and exited the room, closing the door after her.

  “Njar isn’t our enemy,” Kyra said.

  Herion shook his head and sighed. “Then where is Leatherback?”

  Kyra shrugged. “Let me go to the grove. I will look for him.”

  “Out of the question,” Herion replied. “I can’t send you out there alone.”

  “Then the priests will go with me,” Kyra said. “They trust me. They know I am not lying.”

  “I don’t think you’re lying either,” Herion clarified. “I am only worried that you have been deceived.”

  “Very well,” Kyra began, “then you can come with me too.”

  “What?” Herion squawked. “Go traipsing about looking for a dragon that officially I have to pretend doesn’t exist or else the king will have my head? No, thank you!”

  “You, me, and the priests. If we all go together, then you will see the truth of it.”

  Herion opened his mouth to speak, but the door opened again.

  “Oh for the love of the Ancients, what is it now?!” Herion shouted as he wheeled on the intruder.

  To their surprise, Cyrus stood in the doorway. He bowed his head.

  “I do apologize, but perhaps I could offer my assistance,” he said. “I will accompany Kyra to the grove.”

  Herion narrowed his eyes on Cyrus. “Who told you about this?”

  Cyrus snorted. “Does it matter?” he asked. “What matters is we have an old enemy that is meddling in our affairs. I will accompany Kyra, and then I will repay the satyr for what he did to our king those many years ago.”

  “No!” Kyra said. “You cannot do this.”

  Herion stroked his chin, then he nodded. “Very well,” he said.

  Cyrus then held up a finger. “However,” he began, “I might wonder why an enemy would send us a fair warning.”

  “What?” Herion replied.

  Cyrus shrugged and looked to Kyra. He winked at her and then pointed to the letter. “You say he warned us of the attack. I just heard Lady Arkyn’s report of the event at Caspen Manor. I should say that I am of the opinion Njar is on our side in this fight.”

  “What on Terramyr would make you say that?” Herion asked.

  “A shade is a powerful enemy. Njar knows this. He knows that if he lets it fester, a shade’s nest can grow to uncontrollable power. I say, let me go and talk with the satyr. Let me see what kind of scheme he is playing at. If I feel like he is the same trickster from before, then I will kill him. However, if he is an ally, even a temporary ally of convenience, then I say we let him be.”

  Herion bristled. “I can’t believe you are saying this. It’s an outrage!”

  Cyrus smirked. “I thought Feberik was the one with the temper around here?”

  Herion shook a finger at Cyrus. “Why should I go along with this?”

  Kyra wanted to explain that Njar was helping her locate the garunda beasts that would lead her to the shade, but she dared not say that for fear the two wizards would lock her up for her own protection. She just stood there and watched the two old men argue until finally Cyrus held up his hand and said something that Herion had not been prepared to hear.

  “I know why the satyrs attacked us,” Cyrus said.

  Herion folded his arms and puffed air loudly to show his disbelief.

  Cyrus was undeterred. “There were necromancers and warlocks among the king’s court,” Cyrus said.

  “Hogwash!” Herion shouted. “Kuldiga Academy exists to hunt such foul creatures down. None would ever get so close as to be among the king’s court.”

  Cyrus shook his head. “There were three that I am aware of. Two of them died in the attack, and one shadowfiend escaped.” Cyrus stepped in close to Headmaster Herion, his brow stern and his eyes alight with fury. “Herion, I know we haven’t walked the same path since that day. In fact, we never met again until I came to work here, but you know of my reputation. I hunt the darker creatures of magic. If anyone knows a shadowfiend, it’s me.”

  “Then tell me, who was the shadowfiend that escaped?” Herion asked.

  “His name is Dremathor,” Cyrus said flatly. “Of course that is not his true name, but it is the name we knew him by.”

  “Dremathor is dead,” Herion countered.

  Cyrus shrugged. “Perhaps, but I would doubt that very much. Just because someone has not been heard from in a long time does not mean they are dead.”

  “When did you learn about this?” Herion asked.

  “I went to his home, after the attack. The items I found therein left little to the imagination. I am telling you, he was a shadowfiend.”

  “You are saying the satyrs lured us there in order to kill the necromancers, warlocks, and shadowfiends that had embedded themselves within the king’s court?” Herion shook his head. “I have heard some whoppers in my day, but this one tops them all.”

  Cyrus sighed and shook his head. “Will you allow me to go with Kyra and investigate the matter?”

  Herion thought for a moment, and then nodded his head. “All right. You may go, but you had better be right about this.”

  Cyrus nodded.

  Herion stormed out of the room without another word and slammed the door.

  Cyrus turned and moved his finger in the air, the lock slid into place on the door to allow them some privacy. “A bit emotional, that one,” Cyrus commented.

  Kyra burst into a fit of laughter and then sat on the bed. “Is everything you said true?” she asked.

  Cyrus shrugged. “I can’t be certain, but that is what I’ve put together in the time since that attack. Besides, if Njar warned us about the assault on Caspen Manor, I see no reason to distrust him now. Even if he only desires self-preservation, it appears that the satyr is on our side.”

  Kyra nodded. “I believe he only wants to help.” Her mind then turned to the things Njar had told her about before sending her to the academy. “Cyrus, the artifact you mentioned before, the one that the wraith attacked that boy for and the thing you thought my vampire father had, was it a dagger?”

  Cyrus’ eyes shot wide and he looked at Kyra suspiciously. “Why do you ask?”

  Kyra narrowed her eyes on the old wizard, as if puzzling it out in her own mind before telling him the rest. After a moment, confident that she was on to something, she proceeded to tell him what Njar had seen in the Pools of Fate. “Njar saw a dagger. He said he could see it in my mother’s possession, and then she used it to kill Bhaltair, my vampire father. After that, Njar said he lost track of the dagger, but the attack on Bhaltair is what awoke the shade and other creatures in the area. He thinks the dagger is at my house, and that’s why they attacked it.”

  Cyrus nodded thoughtfully. “Then we have no time to lose. You go and wait for your dragon in the grove. I will go to Caspen Manor and search the place for the dagger. If it is there, I will find it, and destroy it.”

  “Why destroy it?”

  Cyrus stopped for a moment and looked her in the eyes. He nodded and finally opened his mouth. “You remember how I spoke of the creatures in Iverglendar, the underdark, right?”

  Kyra nodded.

  “This dagger can summon creatures from there, or possibly even from Hammenfein itself. It’s a very powerful relic, and it needs to be destroyed. If we get rid of it, the shade might eve
n be forced to leave.”

  “You can destroy it?”

  Cyrus nodded. “To tell you the truth, the last time I fought a wylkin, it was in Bhaltair’s lair. He must have had the dagger in order to create a slave out of that terrible creature. Now that I realize your mother took it when we rescued her, it makes sense. Now, I just have to find where she put it, and then I can end this madness. You’ll be safe, and then you can focus on getting Leatherback out of here before the curse overtakes him.”

  Kyra looked at the old wizard curiously. How did he know about that? She hadn’t mentioned to him that she was thinking of flying to the north. So how could he have known?

  Cyrus smiled. “Don’t look at me like that. Leatherback isn’t just a friend to you, he’s family, am I right?”

  Kyra nodded.

  Cyrus patted her on the back. “We’d all do anything to rescue our families.” He stood up and motioned to the floor. “Come on, we should go. You wait for Leatherback at the grove. I’ll go to your old house.”

  “Are you sure it will be safe?” Kyra glanced at the door. “Headmaster Herion seemed pretty convinced that Njar was out to hurt us.”

  Cyrus winked. “I think I would rather trust your instincts on this one. You have dealt with him the most recently. You would know by now if he wasn’t what he seemed. Let’s not give heed to doubts from an old man that has harbored hate for decades.”

  Kyra nodded. She opened her portal and stepped through.

  Cyrus waited until the portal closed and then he let out a wicked laugh. “Now I shall have the dagger, and soon I shall use it to slay those piddling warlocks and keep it for myself. Then, no one shall be able to stop me.”

  The old wizard opened a portal to the woods outside of Caspen Manor and stepped through.

  He exited the portal amidst a copse of twisted elm trees.

  He could still smell the musty odor of the magic that had exploded nearby. It held a sulfuric tinge to it that was unmistakable to the wizard. Lady Arkyn had left that detail out of her report, but that was not entirely unexpected as she was not as experienced in magic as he was.