Blood of the Fallen

by Jeff Gunzel

  “Does this not demonstrate to you how desperate I truly am?” Assirra asked. “You think I have come here to hurt you after all these years? You could not be more wrong. I have come to beg your forgiveness.”

  Aleesia took a few steps forward. Despite being nearly a foot shorter than Assirra, she seemed to loom over her like a giant. “Why?” she asked simply. “Why after all these years would you track me down just to ask for my forgiveness? Do you not remember the last time we saw each other?”

  Holding the knife’s edge in the palm of her hand, the edge of cold steel pressed against her skin. Eyeing the open book sitting next to her, Aleesia skimmed through the spell’s details one last time. With a deep breath, she closed her eyes and dragged the blade across her palm. Wincing, she held out a bloody fist, allowing the flow of blood to trickle down into a bowl. Red droplets mixed with the water, creating a cloudy, milky pink swirl.

  Waving her other hand over the bowl, Aleesia reached out with her mind. She could feel the bloody mix as if it were alive, feel its energy throbbing like a pulsing heart. Eyes still closed, she sensed that she was no longer alone. There was a presence nearby, watching, waiting, observing her with great curiosity.

  The bloody mix began to swirl about like a bottomless whirlpool. Up from the water rose a hairless head, its wide-open eyes a far deeper red than the bloody water it came from. “Yes,” Aleesia whispered, feeling the creature’s life force, feeling its eyes on her. She did not dare open her own eyes yet, but she knew it was there. “Spiritual being from the other side, lend me your strength, show me the forbidden light so I may taste it for myself.”

  “Break it down!”

  Aleesia’s eyes jetted open at the order from outsider her door. She caught a fleeting glimpse of the being as it splashed back down into the shallow water. “One...two...” Her door burst right off the hinges just before a flood of tarrins came barging into her room. Before she could react, she was face down on the floor, struggling to breathe as they piled on to help immobilize her. “How long did you think you could hide this treachery from us? Your days of black magic are over, witch. You will now face the High Cleric for sentencing.”

  * * *

  Down on her knees with a circle of spears pointed at her neck, Aleesia trembled before the High Cleric. As Assirra read off what appeared to be an endless list of charges, Aleesia continued to sob, her face buried down in her hands. Black magic... Conspiring against the village... Practicing witchcraft... Defying Odao... The stream of accusations just kept coming. After a time, the string of charges against her sounded like some muffled, foreign language to her ears.

  But what she did hear were the hateful whispers raining down from the crowd gathered around. No matter how hard she tried to block them out, they still came through clear as a bell. Worse, not only could she hear their stinging, hateful comments, but she recognized each voice as someone she had known for most of her life. These were her friends, her family, and each of them now seemed to hate her with all of their hearts.

  “What?” Aleesia spoke up, only now realizing that Assirra had stopped speaking and was looking at her expectantly.

  “I asked, how do you plead?” Assirra repeated. Her expression remained neutral despite the hushed whispers urging her to dish out a maximum punishment.

  “I am no witch,” Aleesia cried out, her face streaked with tears. “You’ve known me all of my life. All of you have!”

  “Do we?” Assirra asked, her voice as hard as her eyes. “Do we really know you? I’m not so sure anymore.”

  “I have done nothing wrong! You are my brothers, my sisters, and I would never hurt any of you. These absurd charges against me are born of nothing more than fear and prejudice. You fear what you do not understand, and therefore call it black magic.”

  “Odao fears nothing,” Assirra assured her, a sharper edge to her voice that time. “I will consult his greatness before I make a decision. And while I am praying, I suggest you do the same.”

  “So that’s it then?” Aleesia said, rising to her feet despite the many spears attempting to keep her down. “You would leave my fate in the hands of the gods instead of trusting your own heart?”

  “Never speak ill of Odao in my presence!” Assirra shrieked. “You dare to mock the creator?”

  “If he is so powerful, then let him strike me down here and now!” Aleesia said, her eyes searching the sky. “If your god seeks vengeance, then let him make an example out of me right before your eyes. I do not fear him and neither should you.” There came an uproar from the crowd, but she ignored them and went on. “You know what I think? I think you are afraid to make a choice for fear of being held responsible for your own actions. It is just easier to mumble at the sky, praying for the wisdom you do not think you possess on your own.” She stepped closer to Assirra and lowered her voice. “You know what else I think? I think you are a coward, just like the god you follow.”

  Assirra’s hands clenched momentarily, but she quickly regained her composure. “If you have lost your faith in Odao, then that is your loss,” she said calmly, but loud enough for all to hear. “Although it pains me to admit this, I am afraid you are beyond saving. Aleesia, I hereby banish you from our village.”

  “I hereby banish you from our village,” Aleesia repeated, remembering Assirra’s last words as if it had happened yesterday. “Do you remember saying that to me?” Assirra hung her head. Of course she remembered casting one of her own out into the wilderness in the name of Odao. Practically sentencing someone to death was not an easy thing to forget. “You took everything from me. All of you did! Friends I had known my entire life just stood by and watched as you sent me away to die in the wilderness.

  “Where did you think I was going to go? I couldn’t go live in a human city for fear of prejudice and ridicule. You see how they treat their own kind. How long would I have lasted in such a hostile environment? No, I had to find some way to survive all on my own. For days I was forced to eat things you wouldn’t even hold in your hand! But somehow I managed to stay alive.” Aleesia gave a half turn with her hands extended. “I built myself a crude shelter out here in the forest, and over the years I’ve improved it bit by bit. It is not exactly a luxurious way to live, but I make do. And now, after all these years, you show up on my doorstep out of nowhere. Why?”

  Aleesia looked as if she might start crying. “Why?! Why does my past come back to haunt me? Why must you torment me so? You got what you wanted, right? Is it not enough that you banished me from my home? If you were checking to make sure I was dead, I’m sorry to disappoint you.” Aleesia stormed towards the flimsy door and threw it open. “Get out!” Her eyes pooled with unshed tears. “It pains me to look upon you, and I won’t tolerate it for another second. Now get out!”

  Assirra dropped down and sat on the floor. “If it is revenge you seek, then I will not stop you. Go on and kill me if that will close the door to your pain. I promise I will not resist.”

  “Just get out!” Aleesia shrieked, her unshed tears now flowing freely.

  “I have nowhere to go,” Assirra said, slouching down with her legs crossed. She looked tired, beaten. “I cannot even begin to apologize for what I have put you through, but I apologize nonetheless. I never wanted any of this to happen. I had no choice.”

  “You always have a choice,” Aleesia snarled, closing the door and coming back to sit on the floor across from Assirra.

  “You’re right,” Assirra admitted, shrugging her shoulders. “And I suppose it took me this many years before I finally understood that.” They sat in silence for a time before Assirra spoke again. “Did you not find it odd that I knew where to find you?” she asked.

  Aleesia shrugged. “As I stated before, I assumed you finally tracked me down in order to finish the job.”

  “No,” Assirra replied softly, even managing a casual smile. “I had you followed that very same day. When I told you that I had no choice, that was very much how it felt to me at the time. How could
I defy Odao’s name if front of so many witnesses, and let you stay in the village? Still, that did not mean that I didn’t feel guilty about what I had done. When you finally settled here and began building this place, I had my followers stage an accident nearby.”

  “The robbed merchants?” Aleesia interrupted, remembering something she had discovered all those years ago. That stroke of luck had saved her life.

  “Yes,” Assirra continued. “The turned-over cart, the bags of food and tools thrown about. Those were all carefully laid out so as to appear like the aftermath of a robbery gone bad. I assure you that no one was hurt. After all, there was no raid. That was all meant to be found by you.”

  “That food lasted me for weeks,” Aleesia said, her voice cracking a bit. “Those tools enabled me to start building this place. I would have been dead without that stroke of luck.”

  “I had to do something,” Assirra said. “Although I truly believed you could no longer be saved after dabbling in the black arts, I didn’t want to see you die because of my ruling. I’m not sure what the rest of the village would have thought if they knew the steps I took to help keep you alive, but at the time I felt that the risk was worth it. Aleesia, I swear I wish things could have been different. I never meant to hurt you.” She looked around the hut. “I didn’t even recognize the place when I stumbled across it. You’ve come a long way since then.”

  “What do you want from me, Assirra?” Aleesia groaned. This entire conversation had brought back many painful memories. It was becoming more than she could bear.

  “First of all, I need you to forgive me. I don’t know that I deserve to be forgiven, but still I am asking.”

  “Very well.” Aleesia’s soft words didn’t sound all that convincing, but she said them anyway. “What else do you require of me so that you may leave me in peace?”

  “You may find this hard to believe, Aleesia, but I no longer follow Odao or his teachings.” Aleesia’s eyes opened to the size of teacups. Never in her wildest dreams did she ever believe she would hear Assirra utter such blasphemy.

  “It’s true,” she nodded, assuring Aleesia she had indeed heard correctly. “His power no longer flows through me, and therefore I no longer have a place at his side. In fact, I no longer have a place in my own village. I am a homeless, faithless rogue.”

  “I’m...sorry,” Aleesia said, not sure what else to say.

  “Why?” Assirra asked, her face brightening. “I am liberated. I am no longer a slave to a god who would treat me like a plaything until the day I offered him my last breath. This is why I admire you so. You broke free of those chains years ago, defied him at the risk of your own safety and well-being.”

  “You said I practiced the dark arts. You and everyone else called me a witch.”

  “We did,” Assirra agreed. “And we were wrong. I was wrong and you were right. And so leads me to my final request. And be warned, I won’t leave until you agree.” Aleesia held her breath, not sure she liked where any of this was going. “I respect and even fear the power you have gained. I too want that same power for myself. Therefore...I need you to train me.

  “I need you to teach me the ways of the black arts.”

  Chapter 6

  “You have no idea what you’re asking of me,” Aleesia said with a stunned look on her face. “I cannot. I will not. And now I think you should go.” She went to open the door once more, but Assirra raced in front of her and stayed her wrist.

  “Please, just hear me out,” Assirra said, releasing her wrist before stepping aside. “Much has happened that you are not aware of. Just hear what I have to say. After that, if you still want me to leave, I will do so. But don’t make the same mistake I made all those years ago. Please, don’t make a hasty decision based only on ignorance.” Nodding reluctantly, Aleesia stepped away from the door. The least she could do was listen to Assirra, and maybe even learn a thing or two about the world she hadn’t been a part of for many years now.

  After setting a table, they both sat down to several plates of fresh fruit. If there was one thing Aleesia had learned in her years of isolation, it was where the food could be found in this forest. Gorging on the badly needed meal, Assirra tried to gather her thoughts before speaking. She knew she was going to sound crazy. But that was all right, it was crazy. The world had practically gone mad, and Aleesia may very well be the only person in the realm who was not yet aware of it.

  After taking a large gulp of water, she sat up straight and began to tell her tale. She told Aleesia everything that happened from the beginning, the ghatins, the lerwicks, the new friends she had made in Viola and the others. Watching Aleesia’s jaw drop lower and lower as the story progressed was not surprising in the least. Nothing could quite prepare a person who had withdrawn from the civilized world years ago to find out that the world they once knew no longer existed.

  She spoke in detail of her capture in Shadowfen, the way they tortured her to try and get information that she didn’t know to begin with. Then, ultimately, she told Aleesia of Thatra’s falling on the battlefield, of how she died with honor protecting the city. Swept up in her own story, Assirra looked over to notice Aleesia staring blankly at her. She had nearly forgotten she was telling the story to someone.

  “Thatra is dead?” Assirra said, obviously struggling to come to terms with that. Although she hadn’t seen Thatra in many years, she still remembered her as the unstoppable warrior she was. Invincible, unbeatable, it was impossible to believe that she had fallen. Strange that she would focus on that one detail more than the rest of Assirra’s astonishing tale. But then again, the loss of an old friend felt more familiar to her. She knew nothing of these ghatins and lerwicks.

  “Yes,” Assirra said softly. “And Odao did nothing when I tried to save her. In fact, it feels as though it has been ages since I have felt his presence. He has turned his back on me, and so I have turned my back on him. Never again will I be a puppet for a false god. He is dead to me. Do you see? Do you now understand why I need your help?”

  Aleesia stood from her chair and turned her back to Assirra, crossing her arms while she thought for a moment. “I’m afraid that once again you have made an impulsive decision, High Cleric. You are angry. You feel betrayed and that is why you are here. A decision based on raw emotion is no decision at all. It is merely a reaction.”

  “Do not call me by that name again,” Assirra hissed, rising from her seat. “That title means nothing to me now. As for your assumption that I may not be thinking clearly, let me assure you that my eyes are open for the first time. I see everything. I know what I took from you all those years ago, and I am sorry. But I am now offering you a choice, one you must consider very carefully. You can help me seek revenge for Thatra, help me join this fight in a meaningful way so I can aid my friends, or you can hide here in this forest, living out your days in solitude, eventually dying alone while knowing you never left your mark on the world. No one will remember you. You might as well never have existed at all.”

  Aleesia turned around. “You know nothing of me or my craft. You don’t even know what it is that you seek.”

  “Is that so?” Assirra asked, the corner of her mouth turning up in a sly smile. “Then why don’t you show me?”

  * * *

  The two of them sat at the table while a white candle flickered between them. Assirra couldn’t help but feel nervous, but in a way it was exhilarating. For so long she had been labeled a messenger for Odao, a direct link between the physical world and the tarrin god. Everyone respected her, feared her power and authority, but she always knew in her heart that none of it really mattered. Without Odao, she was just an average mortal. Seated before her was a tarrin with real power, and that alone excited her. Hopefully, this time the teacher might become the student. If so, she planned to embrace the new role with all of her heart.

  “Before we can begin, you will at least need to have some understanding of what it is I do,” Aleesia began. “Dark arts, black magic, these bro
ad terms are thrown around far too frequently. They are little more than a simpleton’s way of describing something he does not understand. It is ignorance in its purest form.

  “When a person dies and enters the netherworld, their life force often stays behind in one form or another. This lingering life force is nothing more than pure energy. That energy is the source of our power. Do you follow me so far?”

  “So your power is a form of necromancy?” Assirra asked, shifting a little in her seat. That was more or less what she had accused Aleesia of all those years ago.

  “Exactly the opposite, in fact,” Aleesia answered. “Although most assume that there isn’t any difference.” The hard look in her eyes seemed to hint that she also remembered being accused of this very thing.

  “So you talk to spirits the same way the spiritists do?”

  “No,” Aleesia replied simply, tapping her chin while thinking. “But I suppose you could say it is something in between. The spiritists communicate directly with spirits, and spirits are no longer a part of the world of the living. Necromancers have the ability to not only communicate with the dead, but they can also influence and even outright control them to a certain degree. That is the difference between those two. I, however, am neither.”

  “I don’t understand,” Assirra said. “You don’t communicate with the dead, or control them in any fashion, yet the dead are the source of your power?”

  “You’re looking at it all wrong,” Aleesia laughed, throwing her head back as the low candlelight danced shadows across her face. “First, you must understand what happens after death. Sometimes, when a person passes from this world, their life force is able to remain intact. A “whole” spirit usually retains most of its old memories from its living form. It can be communicated with by the spiritists, or sometimes controlled and manipulated by the necromancers. What you do not understand is that this is actually quite rare.

  “Far more often than not, the being’s life force is ripped apart. In this way, death is far more unforgiving than many of you were led to believe. When this happens, the life force converts back into its purest form.”