The Vitalis Chronicles: White Shores

by Jay Swanson

  The man went wide eyed, tensing for a moment before Ardin twisted the blade and hauled it free. The soldier was dead before he hit the ground and Ardin was already working to drag his older brother clear of the carnage.

  FIVE

  ARDIN FOUND HIMSELF kneeling over his brother's broken body in the woods. It didn't take a field surgeon to realize he wasn't going to make it. The majority of John's blood had been left on the steps of their home. How stupid he was, he thought to himself. He could have saved his brother if only he hadn't been such a coward in the first place.

  The world was turning serene; an other-worldly hue of grays and dark greens dominated the landscape. Through the trees he could see the smoking remains of his home. Flames still lapped the sides of a few buildings, but most everything had been razed to the ground by the fires. They were in a small crater in the woods now, sheltered from the afternoon winds that were picking up off the face of the mountain. The remaining soldiers had never appeared. He was certain one pair had swept the ridge, but none had found them.

  He held John's head in his lap, hair matted with blood and pale face still in eerie calm. His breathing had grown increasingly shallow, each breath took longer to fill and more time passed between every labored attempt. Ardin found it difficult to breathe himself as he listened to his dying brother. Something about the thought of breathing took the simplicity out of it.

  He thought of the soldiers, thought of them dying under his father's saber. The memory threatened to wrench his stomach. There was a sense of power, of accomplishment, and yet there was guilt in it too. Shame. He could feel his throat constrict as his face grew hot and began to sting. He swallowed hard, forcing the thoughts out and looking back down at his brother.

  He would do it again, he told himself, and he would do it faster. But he didn't know if that were true.

  He closed his eyes, his chin finding a resting place on his chest as he stroked his brother's forehead. He felt tired and sick and hungry all at once, but mostly tired. His own breathing slowed as his muscles began to relax and he drifted off to sleep.

  Ardin woke up a short time later. It felt like ages but the shadows had barely moved. He was somewhat refreshed, or at least he felt more alert. The skies were clearing as the smoke died down and drifted off. The village would smolder for days. He looked down at his brother, still lying in the crater, head in his lap. The breathing had stopped entirely now.

  There was a calm to the whole thing. After what had just happened, this seemed strangely right to Ardin. He sighed, and placed his brother's head gently on the ground as he stood up.

  “Right shit we got ourselves into,” a voice came through the foliage nearby.

  Ardin ducked, his heart in his throat.

  “The hell is the general thinking?”

  “Hell if I know. All I do know is this is messed up.” The two soldiers stopped at the rim of a small crater left by the shelling earlier. John's body lay quietly at its center.

  “Wow,” said the skinny one. “What happened to this guy?”

  “Almost looks like he got pounded by a shell and it bounced off his head.”

  “A veritable invincible man eh?”

  “Too bad for him it ain't so,” the thick soldier spat. “I'm tellin' ya, Gabe, somethin' ain't right 'bout all this.”

  “He'll blame it on the Witch,” the skinny one said. They kept staring at the corpse resting peacefully in the crater. “And they'll believe him.”

  “Can't 'magine no one'll talk.”

  “I'm sure that's more of a short-term plan. It will be interesting to see how things develop.”

  Just feet away to their left, Ardin crouched in the bushes, shaking like he was riding the hay wagon to market. He clenched his father's saber in his fist and closed his eyes, trying vainly to quiet his raspy breathing.

  “How often you seen somethin' like that, eh Gabe?”

  “Never, to be honest. I'm not so sure he got hit by a shell.”

  “Course not!” The thick one laughed. “Damned strange though eh?”

  “Yes, it is.” the skinny one's keen eyes scanned the area. Ardin worried they would find him out. “Very strange.”

  “Oi! You two!” A cry came down from somewhere farther on “You lovebirds quit yer cooin'! We've gotta catch up to the battalion, they're headed for the Witch's Cave!”

  “It's not even a cave,” muttered the skinny one.

  “Might as well be.” The thick one spat to the side, “Can't keep that ol' hag locked up forever though. I'm lookin' forward to seein' what the ol' boot heel has in store for her. Brute's demo squad should have some decent fireworks for us.”

  The thick one propped his rifle on his shoulder as the two soldiers walked around the crater to the right, avoiding the corpse.

  “Poor bastard.”

  Ardin relaxed slowly, catching his breath and waiting until he was sure he was alone. He was uncertain of what to do until he looked at the cold, stiffening remnants of his family in the shallow crater below him. It came to him clearly: he would exact revenge. He would find whoever this general was and he would end him. He was only a man. Ardin knew now that he could end men. The slightest pang of remorse cropped up as he left his brother unburied, but there wasn't time. Not if he was going to set his trap. His brother was the one who had taught him, now it was time to honor his memory by demonstrating what he had learned.

  He rose and started to run due north through the valley. The Witch's Cave was one of those places everyone knew existed, but feared to venture near for fear of what it held. He had never been there, but he knew the way. If he went quickly enough he could take the pass east through the Twin Peaks and be there in a couple of hours. The sun wouldn't set before he'd set things straight, whether or not he was around to enjoy the satisfaction.

  THE COMPOUND HOLDING the old Magess, more recently dubbed the “Witch” by her less adoring fans, was run down and poorly maintained. It wasn't exactly a place one wanted to spend a lot of time, and the few engineers from the army that got sent up to check on and fix it up rarely did their job. Better to just stay in a nearby village, enjoy the offerings of the local pub, and head back to Elandir with a falsified report than to set foot in that God-forsaken place.

  Located in a valley a few miles to the northeast of Levanton, it rested in the midst of some of the higher peaks in the Northern Range. The Cave wouldn't have raised the suspicions of any passerby at first, or even necessarily at second glance. It looked more like the neglected offices of a mining operation than a Magess' prison, and the government's posted warnings had long since deteriorated. Sitting in a clearing about two hundred yards in diameter, the compound was made up of three buildings surrounded by a ten foot chain-link fence.

  The two smaller buildings stood on either side of the path that ran up from the road in the valley below. One of the buildings was an old maintenance shed, the other a small power plant; neither was more than a story tall, though the brick power plant had a few sub levels. Large pipes and tubes jutted out of it on the northern and eastern sides, running into or along the ground to the main building in the complex.

  This, the Cave itself, was also one story tall except for a section in the back just off the east wing that stood an extra half story high.

  Ardin worked his way up the slope that led into the clearing, checking to the south for signs of the army. Satisfied, he moved to a gap next to one of the fence poles. The lengthening shadows of the mountains gave him a sense of comfort. He felt hidden. Lifting the chain link over his head he ducked in and started walking up the path, thoughtlessly glancing down the road one last time. It curved left about a mile down the slope, winding as it headed into the foothills. While it was the longer route to the Cave, armies on the march have an affinity for paved roads.

  Ardin looked around. He'd never actually been in the Cave. The dark, flat-roofed building at the end of the path certainly had a cavernous feel to it. It looked as though it swallowed light. There was a sense of
hopelessness hovering in the air. Its tall windows had been walled over from the inside. The double doors making up the main entrance stood loosely on their hinges at the top of a short set of stairs. It looked like a dark, slouched school-turned-madhouse. Or at least so he imagined.

  That building, Ardin figured, was exactly where this general would go. He just hoped they didn't level the place first. He tried the handle on the door but it didn't budge. They were partially open already, just not enough to get through. Wrapping his fingers around the thick wood of one of the doors he put his weight into it and managed to pull it out a few more inches. Just enough to squeeze through.

  Ardin Vitalis slipped into the darkness beyond the threshold. As his eyes adjusted he could make out that he was in some sort of entryway. There was a door to his left, one in front of him, and one to the right. The one in front looked like an office, dark letters stenciled on the high glass window. He turned to his left and walked towards a set of large glass sliding doors. The room beyond was dimly lit by small diodes in the walls. What they were connected to or indicating he couldn't make out.

  Down both sides of the room were rows of tall benches covered in tipped over vials, small gas burners, and other scientific measuring tools. The far wall was shared by chalk boards and tall bookshelves full of thick leather bound volumes. The whole room seemed to be covered in a heavy coat of dust. He tried the doors but they were sealed.

  He turned back to the door directly behind him. The shock of light pouring in from the outside to his right revealed that it was made from a thick metal. Bolts in the frame and door jutted out with a large wheel in the middle as if to seal it from the outside. The upper left corner looked like it had been punched out from the other side as it curled towards him. The door frame was cracked, and the wheel looked broken. It came off in his hands as he went to twist it. He dropped it to the side.

  This would be where the man would go. This is where he would put an end to him. The thought raised his stomach towards his throat, and he shoved it back down. He could feel a prickling start behind his eyes and he shook it away. He couldn't think about his family now. He had to avenge them... that was all he could do.

  Ardin gripped the door itself where it had twisted away from the frame and heaved on it. He was surprised as it swung easily open, almost smacking his face as it made its arc. The hallway beyond glowed a dim red from some hidden lights further on. He could make out cables and tubing twisting and winding back and forth along the floor. They ran between tall, slender, egg-shaped capsules that lined the walls all the way down.

  He moved forward, not thinking to close the door as he walked wide-eyed down the corridor. There was a low hum in the room, the only sound he had heard in the place. Each metal capsule had a small window in it about six feet off the ground, just high enough that Ardin had to get up on his toes to peer in. It was hard to see, but he felt certain there were things floating inside the capsules. Large things. He shuddered involuntarily as he moved on down the rows of containers.

  Where should he hide, he wondered? That rat bastard of a general would be here any minute. He needed to be ready for him. He stumbled once, chiding himself as he tried not to trip on the thick cables that crisscrossed the floor. They resembled lost vines in search of a host.

  The red glow was cast by large lights on the square base of each capsule. Their housing faced the far side of the room. There were four lights on each, marked separately with different symbols. The red light's symbol looked like an “X” through a skull. He kept moving, not wanting to linger.

  Progressing down the makeshift hallway he began to notice a bluish white light emanating from the left side of the room farther on. It seemed to trickle gently past the capsules and slowly die as it progressed into the hostile red darkness. He kept walking until a short path between the capsules opened up towards the source of the light. Another thick metal door stood only ten feet away.

  That must be where he's going.

  Its large window was bordered by yellow and black stripes, and had been broken out from the inside. Shards of glass lay strewn about the floor as if trying to flee down the hall and escape their square metal prison.

  The light was surprisingly bright for how quickly it dimmed, Ardin thought, like it were shining into water. He squinted as he moved forward, the crunch of broken glass under his feet forcing him to walk more lightly. He grabbed the recessed handle of the door, sliding it into the wall on the right and disappearing silently like it had never been there.

  He stepped into a large room whose ceiling was a good eight feet taller than that of the rest of the building. Large pipes and winding tubes ran along the sides of the room to a massive capsule at its center. The capsule’s curved face appeared to be made entirely out of a thick glass. It was lit well by a few diodes and fixtures, standing in stark contrast to the dark chamber.

  Inside the capsule was the suspended figure of a woman, floating silently in clear fluid, apparently asleep. Her arms appeared bound behind her back while her wild silver hair fanned out lazily from her head in almost every direction. A tube from the floor of the container ran up to a mask that was bound around the lower part of her face, covering her nose and mouth. Her clothing, slowly reduced to rags over decades of dissolution, floated loosely around her body revealing smooth, pale white skin beneath. Despite the silver-white hair, she didn't appear very old to Ardin.

  He approached the capsule silently, enraptured. Little lights on the fixtures holding the capsule in place flickered on and off as if a subconscious afterthought. The warm humming had been left behind. The silence was only broken intermittently by the hissing of some small valve releasing pressure in the darkness.

  He closed on the cage, his heart drumming so loudly in his ears he was certain it would wake the woman behind the glass. She must be alive if they were coming for her, he thought. She was enchanting; if no other power made itself manifest, her intoxicating presence would have been enough for Ardin to have thought of her as a witch. But she was far more lovely than the witches his brother had ever told him about in story.

  Above the glass, bolted into the arms that held the capsule from the ceiling, was a plate with writing etched into it. Some was small, generic military information and serial numbers. In large print between the lines of almost illegible dribble it read “CHARSI” and below in slightly smaller letters “CONDEMNED: MAGE.” His eyes drifted back down to her figure, floating peacefully in the water. Was she drugged?

  He reached out, unable to pull his hand back and unwilling to do so in any case. The glass was slanted away from him, as if the whole capsule had rocked backwards some time before. He could almost see himself in the glass as his fingers gently brushed the surface.

  Her eyes opened.

  GENERAL TROY SILVERS stepped into the clearing at the Cave, the crack battalion of his division standing at attention in the valley behind him. He knew he didn't need them, not for this at least, though they had been useful in containing the villagers from Levanton. A gentle white mist wandered with a sense of curiosity through the wild grasses that roamed freely around the clearing.

  Silvers grit his teeth mindlessly as he stared up the path towards the dark ramshackle building. It had been a long time since he'd crossed paths with the Magess. He wasn't looking forward to it. Partially because he didn't know what to expect; partially because he did.

  She'd been imprisoned here a long time now. Perhaps not by her reckoning but certainly by the humans who had contained her here a generation before. Their neglect in maintaining the place was rearing its costly head.

  “Sir.” The gaunt colonel appeared at his elbow. “Are you certain you do not want an escort into the building, sir?”

  “I'll be fine, Colonel.”

  “Not even your own weapon, sir?”

  Silvers didn't respond. His cold gaze rested on the complex ahead, bathed in the shadow of the mountain. Weapons weren't any good here.

  An attached squad of engineers had cu
t the gates off the old fence for him, but had been remanded to the battalion. This was something he would do himself. Afterward he would have to let Brutus' demolition squad in to blow the place to bits, assuming there was anything left. It was necessary to satiate the battalion's hopes for explosions and quell the fears of the people, if for no other reason.

  There would be a high demand for certainty of the Witch's demise in the City.

  He would give them that.

  “How did she manage it sir?” The colonel's question disrupted his thoughts like waking from a dream.

  “What?”

  “If she's still here, I mean. How did she do what she did to the Peninsula?”

  “Who knows,” he said absentmindedly. “This place has fallen into disrepair to say the least. Whatever happened she must have found a way to break through the seals.”

  “She's had enough time to,” the gaunt old man agreed.

  “Bring three companies up in fifteen minutes and secure the perimeter,” Silvers turned to his subordinate. “No one in or out. Set two companies as a rearguard at the mouth of the valley to ensure no one comes up and interrupts us. And for God's sake, keep Brutus' dogs out of here until I'm ready for them. I don't share their zeal for repulsion devices. For all we know the ones in the compound simply malfunctioned.”

  “Sir.” The colonel turned briskly and walked away.

  Metaphysical Atmosphere Repulsion Devices, or MARD if you didn't want to choke on the name, were made to repel the source of the Magi's power. In their most basic form, MARD were simple containers built to house an alloy comprised of two rare but natural ores. When the two were mixed in the proper ratios they repelled what was called the Metaphysical Atmosphere, something most humans were blissfully unaware of but from which the Magi drew most of their strength.