“You know something, Paul?” she almost yelled. “You're right! And I'm not wasting anymore time talking to a dead man. I'd rather speak with Alena; at least she's honest about her feelings towards me!”
Having said this the beautiful lich stormed up to the side of the ogress and started asking her questions about the shrine and what their plan to cleanse it was.
“She's a little odd,” Nyssa observed, flying up to the young man's side.
“A little,” Paul nodded.
“You're really trying to help her, aren't you?”
“Yep.”
“You know, Paul, you are the it. I don't care what Alena thinks.”
“I hope you're right,” the young man chuckled.
The party reached the ruins even more quickly than they had anticipated. As a result they were able to make their way into the heart of the fallen city before they setup camp. Just before the band stopped for the night they crossed an intricately carved stone bridge spanning a deep ravine at the bottom which ran a narrow little stream.
The buildings on the outskirts of the city had been nothing more than low piles of rubble. However, as they neared the center of the ruins, here and there stood a solitary wall, or the foundation of some once impressive structure, or the shattered remains of an elegant fountain. It was the very image of a decimated civilization, and the cold, dead ashes of former glory.
The party decided to spend their time of repose inside the relatively cozy corner created by two adjacent walls that remained standing together. The once proud timbers of the structure even offered them firewood for the night after having been gently persuaded by a few blows from Sarrac's ax. As they settled in for their evening meal the lich took up a seat in the shadows a short distance both from the fire and her companions.
“What is this place?” Paul asked, before taking a sip of water from Alena's flask.
“This city was called Crufall,” Sarrac answered. “It was destroyed a little over four hundred years ago by a vast army of undead.”
“And a lot of them are still here,” Nyssa asserted, taking a tiny bite of dried meat.
“What do you mean?” the young man asked.
“Just what I said,” she giggled.
“After the city fell,” Alena replied. “A horde of undead guardians were left to make sure the living didn't return.”
“What?!?!” Paul exclaimed jumping to his feet. “And this is where you guys decided to spend the night! Are you insane?!?! Let's get out of here!”
“Would you sit down,” Alena laughed. “Obviously we wouldn't have come here if it were dangerous.”
“Oh, of course,” the young man replied, slowly returning to his seat atop a pile of rubble. “I mean, if I had to pick a single word to describe you guys it would be: cautious.”
“Maybe not cautious,” Sarrac replied. “But I don't think you could describe us as foolhardy either.”
“Alright,” Paul nodded. “Then maybe you'd like to explain why the horde of undead guardians are nothing to worry about.”
“At the moment they're sleeping on the mountain,” Sarrac replied.
“Ah,” the young man said. “That's cleared that up then. Now, on a more serious note: what?”
Three of his four companions laughed at this. Myra, however, seemed content with merely rolling her eyes.
“A powerful spell was put on them after the war was over,” Sarrac continued, “It will preserve them until they're needed for the legions. It makes them completely inactive, however. So, although they're all over the mountain, we're not in any danger from them.”
“And knowing this you've just left them up here waiting to be called on?”
“Of course not,” Alena replied. “The Warriors of Dawn have had people sneaking onto this mountain, destroying sleeping undead for centuries. But they can be hard to find and, as you can imagine, there are quite a few in a horde.”
“That was rather ingenious,” Myra said, a slight smile on her face. “It was completely pointless, of course, as those zombies will never be needed again, but I'm honestly surprised by your resourcefulness.”
“We've been a lot more resourceful than that,” Alena smiled.
“How so?”
“I can hardly tell you,” the ogress pointed out.
“Oh, right,” the lich replied, her smile widening. “Sorry, I wasn't thinking. You'd just roused my curiosity.”
“I understand completely.”
“Either way,” Sarrac said. “They're no danger to us, and right now that's the important thing.”
For the next few minutes the party's conversation revolved around the city's ancient history and eventual destruction. Shortly after this, three of the band were sound asleep. Alena had taken first watch and Myra decided to forgo sleep and instead sat silently staring into the fire. As soon as the hour for second watch arrived, Alena woke Paul before quickly rolling over on her side and going to sleep.
“Can we talk?” Myra asked softly, mere minutes after they were alone.
“Absolutely,” he replied, a smile on his face.
“Alright,” she said, taking a deep breath. “I've been thinking a lot about what you said, in spite of the fact that it's a very unpleasant subject.”
“I appreciate that.”
“And well,” she continued. “I have to admit you have a point. The harvests have to be very painful for the people.”
“They are.”
“I mean I hardly know you guys,” she said, her eyes locked on the fire, “and I don't want you to die.”
“That's good to hear.”
“You're honestly the closest thing I've ever had to friends,” she said, with very slight and very dark laugh. “Which is really sad when you think about the fact that one of you is supposed to kill me and another really wants to.”
“That does make for an odd kind of friendship,” Paul agreed.
“It's very different in undead society,” she explained. “There are masters and servants and most people are both. I serve my parents who serve even greater lords. In turn, all the undead beneath them serve me. Most of them are mindless like zombies, or borderline insane like wraiths, or always seeking power and more than ready to stab you in the back like vampires. Conversation is merely a tool to strike at others or defend yourself. Every action has ulterior motives; no one is truly honest or sincere. At least none of the undead I've ever met are. Not even my parents. But you guys aren't like that.”
“No, we're not.”
“If I didn't know better, I could even imagine that you like me.”
“We do like you,” the young man assured her. “Even Alena does, I think. It's just that she also hates you so much the liking doesn't really shine through.”
“Yeah,” she sighed. “Which is also really weird. I don't mean Alena. She's the only kind of normal one in this whole thing. I'm talking about the rest of you. And you in particular.”
“How so?”
“I tried to kill you,” she explained.
“And I tried to kill you,” he replied. “There's no point in harping on about it. We were both in the wrong.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “You attacked me, but I tried to kill you. When you saw me helpless you spared me. If our roles had been reversed I wouldn't have stayed my hand.”
“Well you didn't know me,” he chuckled. “And you we're exactly raised right.”
“That's what I mean,” she replied turning her eyes to his. “I tell you that I'd have killed you and you just laugh it off and act like it's no big deal.”
“If you could kill me now, would you?” he asked.
For almost a minute she stared silently into the fire.
“No,” she replied at last. “I honestly don't think I would even if you attacked me again. I'd just do my best to stop you without hurting you.”
“And there ya go,” the young man nodded. “Which is one of the reasons I like you and one of the reasons we're friends now.”
> “I wish we could be,” she sighed. “But that's not going to happen.”
“And why is that?”
“You don't have a clue, Paul,” she replied gazing at him from beneath furrowed brows. “These guys have you convinced that the undead can be stopped. Well the simple truth is they can't be. I've seen it from the inside. They own Zanoth and that's the end of it. Your friends refuse to work inside the system and they're going to end up dead. And I'm also pretty sure the same is true of you.”
“Well I certainly won't work within the system.”
“That's what I mean!” she replied vehemently. “And that's really unfortunate! You could honestly do some good!”
“How?”
“By talking,” she replied. “I've never talked to anyone like you. And I want you to know I'm going to push for more harvesting reforms because of you.”
“The harvesting should be stopped completely,” Paul asserted.
“You see?” she replied, a disapproving tone in her voice. “That kind of idealism prevents progress. The harvests aren't going anywhere. Trying to stop them is like trying to chase the wind. We all have to make sacrifices if we're going to live together, Paul.”
“All of us, eh?”
“Well I have!” she snapped. “I really want children. Did you know that?”
“No...” he replied with a hint of rising inflection.
“Well I do,” she nodded. “But liches don't have children. I gave that up in order to become immortal, in order to help my parents, in order to help the living. We all have to make sacrifices, that's just life.”
“I'm sorry.”
“Well I'm not,” she replied. “I've done my duty. And now, because of that, and because of having met you, I can improve things. I'm going to propose that children never be harvested before their parents and that parents never be harvested before all their children are grown. It's bound to run into a lot of opposition, but I have some favors I can call in, as well as some threats I can make.”
“You're a bit of an enigma, you know that?” he asked with a smile.
“I am?” she laughed. “Nothing you do makes any sense at all!”
“I suppose I can see that,” he replied. “At least from your point of view.”
“And I really am sorry you're going to die, Paul,” she said, staring into his eyes. “If I could, I really would save you all. I'm sorry I can't.”
“I understand,” he smiled. “And it's the thought that counts.”
“I don't suppose you'd consider becoming undead?” she asked.
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I'm afraid if it comes to that we'll all just have to die.”
“I thought as much. And I'll make sure its quick,” she assured him. “Sarrac and Alena will never even feel it. And Nyssa will be able to get away once she realizes there's no hope. So, really she'll be alright.”
“That's good.”
“I wish I could do the same for you,” she said shaking her head. “But you're immune to my magic. Maybe I could just like cut your throat real quick or something.”
“Well try to take me by surprise. I don't want to see it coming.”
“I'll try.”
After this rather deep discussion the young man moved the conversation into warmer and more shallow waters. They took on topics such as the lich's favorite flower and what video games were. In this way the pair quickly passed the second watch. When Sarrac took over, Myra lay down at Paul's side and the couple quickly fell asleep.
The following morning they rose before dawn to continue their journey. Although they couldn't be certain how long it would take Lord Telraen's troops to reach the area, the lich assured them they would arrive before nightfall. The band had almost no chance of reaching the shrine, doing what they had to do, and successfully escaping, but they had no choice but to try.
The party quickly reached the outer edge of the city, which had been built on the very roots of the mountain. From there they made their way to a wide stone staircase carved into the living rock leading to the heights above. Immediately they began their ascent toward the shrine.
The mountain itself was nothing more than bare gray rock, although Sarrac claimed that long ago it had been covered in life. And although here and there a petrified stump attested to the truth of this assertion, no other sign of former verdure remained. Paul was struck by the idea that the mountain stood as a monument of death above a city of the slaughtered. The bleakness of the scene was further complemented by a heavily clouded sky whose almost black surface beat back every golden ray of sun that might attempt to offer even a false sense of hope.
The steps upon which they strode where chipped and cracked, and had obviously been the target of furious rage. However, in spite of this destruction, the young man could tell that a great deal of effort had been put into the almost delicate details that adorned them. Each of them had been edged with carvings depicting scenes of Zanoth's history and prayers asking the gods for continued prosperity. The young man took a deep breath as he considered the fact that those prayers had not been answered.
After just over an hour they crossed a small stone bridge under which ran a shallow stream. Alena pointed out that it was the very same that ran through the heart of the city which, at one time, had been a true river. It seemed as if the spring that was its source was subject to the same dark energies that suppressed all life in these lands.
Less than an hour later the band reached a plateau, upon which sat the Shrine of Sallin. The building had unquestionably been the victim of undead wroth in the past. Many of the columns that surrounded it were toppled to the ground and a large portion of its domed roof was missing, doubtless it lay shattered on the floor within. The iron doors that had once sealed the structure lay, rusted and warped, on the ground where they had been cast centuries before.
In the very center of the steps leading up to the entrance, a channel had been cut, through which water from the spring, over which the shrine had been built, could flow. The humble trickle that now passed through this spillway was once the headwaters of a great river. Even in its current state there was something majestic about the place, and the young man felt certain that in the past it must have been a truly inspiring sight. Without a moment's hesitation the party made their way inside.
The destruction outside was nothing compared to what was within. Human bones littered the area and every bit of the stonework had been subject to some form of assault. The little spring rose from beneath the ruins of a shattered fountain and the altar itself appeared to be covered in blood and filth, hundreds of years old.
“This is the shrine you picked?” Myra asked, gazing over the ruins and shaking her head.
“It was the closest,” Sarrac explained. “As well as being one of the most out of the way and still relatively intact.”
“Intact?”
“I said, relatively,” he replied. “And it's not like there were a lot to choose from.”
“I suppose I can see that,” the lich admitted. “But it looks like you've got your work cut out for you.”
“We do,” Alena agree. “So we need to get started.”
Immediately the band started cleaning the shrine so Paul could purify it with the fairy water. He and Nyssa began collecting the bones and placing them outside in an area that had been hallowed ground long ago. While that was being attended to, Sarrac and Alena washed the filth from the shrine with water from the spring. Even Myra decided to lend a hand and started picking up bones along with the fairy and the young man.
“You're helping us?” Nyssa giggled. “That doesn't seem like a very lichy thing to do, in my opinion.”
“Maybe not,” Myra smiled. “But it's not going to make any difference. This whole thing is a waste of time and the sooner you realize that the sooner we can go. I've been thinking about it, and there's a very slim chance I can get you out of here safely. And the more time we have before my father's forces arrive the better your chances will be.”
“I plan to try,” the lich nodded.
“You're really not what I thought you were,” Alena observed. “And I don't think I like it. Things were much clearer when we just wanted to kill each other.”
“I agree,” the lich sighed, “but what can we do about it now?”
“Nothing,” the ogress said shaking her head. “Nothing at all... And I'm actually beginning feel bad that you have to die to save our world. I just keep hoping that this all some ploy and that you'll betray us so I can want to cut your throat with a clean conscience again.”
“I know what you mean,” Myra said with another sigh. “But it's no ploy. And I've found myself wishing that you guys were just deceiving me as part of some plan I don't understand and that you're going to murder me at some point. That way I could come back and wreak my vengeance on you and then go back to thinking of the living like I always have.”
“I see where you're coming from,” Alena nodded. “But we're not going to.”
“I know,” the lich replied throwing her hands up. “And I've come to accept that, but it's not easy.”
“No, it's not,” the ogress agreed.
“Either way,” Myra smiled. “If I can manage to save your lives it will make me feel a little better.”
“I'm glad,” Alena said, smiling in return. “And if Paul does have to kill you we'll do our absolute best to make it as quick and painless as possible.”
“Thank you, Alena!” the lich replied. “That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me.”
“Well, whether I like it or not,” the ogress said, scrubbing the stonework as she spoke, “I have to admit that you're growing on me. I mean, the fact that you're basically a homicidal maniac isn't all your fault.”
“That's funny,” Myra laughed. “I was just thinking the same thing about you!”
“That is funny!” Alena agreed.
Working together the five companions quickly got the shrine prepared for purification. Sarrac handed Paul the flask of fairy water and told him to simply anoint the altar with it. After a quick explanation as to what the word anoint meant in that context, the young man went to work. As he stood pouring water into his hand before rubbing it on the altar Myra approached his side.
The Tower of Daelfaun (The Tales of Zanoth Book 1) Page 12
