Everything Is Worth Killing- Isaac's Tale

by Alex Oakchest

  He thought back to all those years ago when he had trained with the spirit from the sarcophagus. The very same sarcophagus whose lid had killed him, which struck him as particularly cruel.

  He thought back to when his training was complete, and the spirit told Cleft there was one last thing to do; grind his bones and consume them.

  Was that how Cleft would free himself one day? Getting another to consume him?

  You still haven’t found your truth, Cleft, said a voice. It was above him, below him, echoing throughout the Crevice. He recognized it as the spirit.

  You haven’t found the reason you are brought back. Your truth is different from mine. Discover it, and perhaps mortality will be yours once again.

  “How do I discover it?”

  The Crevice was silent, but Cleft tried to be patient. The problem was, it was hard being patient in a place where time had no meaning.

  “Hello?”

  No answer.

  So he didn’t know how to rid himself of this. He had no idea how to become mortal so that he could die one last time.

  There was only one thing that he was sure of now; revenge couldn’t be the reason. That which he’d sought for so long, wouldn’t get what he really needed. He knew that now. And perhaps learning that was half of his journey.

  ***

  We found what we needed after leaving the cavern where cleft met his end. We followed the tunnel and emerged back in the passageway where we had the choice of two tunnels; the one with horns above it, and the one with a face carved into stone. This time, we walked through the passageway of the face.

  It took us deeper into the mines, where we walked for perhaps a day. Adi-Boto was in no state to march, but because he was a healer, Cleavon had four sticks and a roll of canvas in his bag which were designed to be turned into a stretcher.

  We took turns carrying Adi though the mines, though Judah volunteered more than most. Harrien, also, seemed keen to take more than his share of it, especially when Kayla was watching.

  Later that day, we finally reached the end of a tunnel we had been following. A windy draught met us, and it felt good to feel the chill on my face after hours of walking in the tunnels where the breeze didn’t reach.

  Beyond us was an opening. The tunnel walls disappeared, though the path stayed in place. Either side of the path was a great drop, one that went so deep we could see nothing but darkness when we looked down.

  Even though the path was six feet wide, I felt like a tightrope walker treading above a chasm. Just one misstep and I’d be gone.

  “Can someone take over carrying Adi?” asked Judah.

  “Feeling strain, old man?” asked Tosvig, with a grin.

  Judah glanced at the chasm to his left, and I swore that his face turned a paler shade of green. “Trust me, Tosvig, it is better for Adi and me that I walk alone until we are free of this path.”

  “Just focus on the prize,” I told him.

  The prize waited ahead of us, where the path led into a wide opening, beyond which was another cavern of some sort. Carefully, since it would have been silly to die in such a way after everything we had done, we walked across the path and into the room.

  Kayla and Harrien, carrying Adi’s stretcher, were the first in. Judah and Tosvig followed, and I entered after them. When I did, I couldn’t help but look around, a sense of awe growing stronger the longer that I stared.

  This was a kind of stone grotto, with a curved ceiling and stone walls covered in a luminous green moss that gave a soft glow to the place.

  All over the floor were little buds, but not floral ones. These were metal buds that grew from the ground, popping up in dozens of places all through the grotto. Some of the buds were completely bare, but three of them had tangles of long, metal vines protruding from them, on which were leaves that caught the glow of the moss.

  And then, nestled on some of these vines, were lumps of metal. They looked like ripening buds of fruit, except made from metal. They had a purple hue, and they seemed to give off a light of their own but only if you looked at them from a certain angle.

  Judah walked over to one and ran his finger over it. “The Originals took as much as they could,” he said. “Since then, I suppose the metal has been growing back. It must take centuries.”

  “This stuff grows down here?” I asked.

  “This is no ordinary metal.”

  “Yeah, I’d hope not given what we had to do to get it.”

  “We should get to work. This will take a while, and I would do anything to see the sky again.”

  We got to work. Erimdag helped, while Cleavon stayed back near the wall and sulked in his misery. If he had any thoughts of escape, then those were quickly smashed. If he so much as coughed, one of us would kill him. He might have saved Adi, but he had a long way to go to earn forgiveness, if that was ever possible.

  One by one, we chiseled and hammered the metal fruits away from the vines.

  “Some of this will become medallions,” said Judah. “And some of it will become swords, forged by our Tallsteep smith.”

  “Who makes the medallions?” I asked.

  “That is not knowledge for me, Isaac.”

  I looked at Harrien.

  “Mardak is the camp chef,” he said. “And his father, old Warnaco, was the chef, too. All of his family have been chefs. But Mardak always brags that if you follow their root far enough back, you will see that one of his ancestors helped the Originals forge the metal they found into medallions. It is knowledge passed from father to son, in case we ever came back here.”

  Each of us took as much metal as we could separate from the vines. I had five lumps, while Judah had gotten eight.

  Judah glanced at Tosvig. “Brother Tosvig, are you excited to use the metal?”

  “I do not need a medallion.”

  “Not for a medallion,” said Judah. “A sword. That is the Tallsteep way. You have never used a blade forged by this metal, have you?”

  Tosvig stared at Judah for the longest time, and I could tell he seemed affected by this. Was it the brother part? Or when Judah included Tosvig as a Tallsteep?

  Either way, I’d never seen Tosvig look like that before.

  With a clang, Harrien struck a vine, separating a hand-sized build of metal fruit from it. He put it in his bag,

  “That’s the last of it,” I said. “Now we can finally leave this place.”

  ***

  “And we all gather here today, not as two clans, but one. For too long we have fought. We have hated. We have weakened ourselves under the guise of protecting our clans. No more! I say that now in front of you all, and Chief Mardak agrees. We say no that more will we fight! Under a shining sun on the fifth morning of Shar, we make history together.”

  Cheers broke out, a ripple of them starting to my right and then becoming a swell until every Lonehill and Tallsteep was shouting and clapping, and the din was so loud I could barely hear my own thoughts.

  Chiefs Fergus and Mardak, who were standing on a small wooden stage platform so they were raised four feet above us all, basked in the joy of the crowd.

  It was still strange to be back here. After leaving the mines, we had taken a much longer route home, deciding on skirting a healthy distance around both Agnartis and the canyon where the komonauts had attacked. Adi’s condition improved immensely, and with a further application of his paste, Cleavon said that he was out of the worst of the danger and would survive the journey back no matter how long it took. After that, only rest and care would cure him, though he’d never be back to what he was.

  It was twelve days of long travel before we saw the Tallsteep camp in the distance. What we didn’t know was that Tallsteep scouts had spotted us making our return eight days earlier, after Chief Fergus had grown anxious and sent them to wait at various sites of our journey. This meant that word got back to Fergus, who in turn sent a message to Mardak.

  When we arrived back at the camp, Judah, Tosvig, Adi-Boto, Kayla, Harrien, Cleavon
, and me, we found a procession waiting for us. A sea of faces staring expectantly. At the head of them were Fergus and Mardak, chiefs of both clans.

  “Well?” asked Fergus, as we approached.

  I held up by inventory bag.

  The gathered clan people burst into a cheer, whooping and hollering and squeezing each other’s arms in their friendly custom.

  And now, two days later, Mardak and Fergus had called the people of both clans to a meeting. I was in the center of the crowd, with Roddie the pooch nestled by my leg and dozing away, completely unconcerned with affairs like this.

  Standing there, caught in the swell of applause, nestling in the middle of the Lonehill and Tallsteep crowd, it was hard not to notice the change in the air.

  Our return didn’t mean a magical end to all their problems; it would take a few weeks to forge all of weapons and medallions, though progress had already been made. There were still plenty of logistics to work out.

  But though there was work to do, things were different. There was a sense of hope in camp, present everywhere like a flowery fragrance. I saw it in smiles that were flashed at me in the mornings when I headed to the fire for breakfast. I heard it in the way people from both clans said “Hai, Isaac!” when I approached.

  And now Fergus was publicly announcing what had been just a rumor day ago but had now become as obvious as the knowledge that day followed night.

  The cheers and whoops dissipated, and once again everyone’s attention was on Mardak and Fergus. The young chief seemed in his element, completely at ease in speaking to the joint population of both clans. Mardak, not as used to ruling, was a little less at ease.

  “Chief Mardak and I have been in discussion for days, as you know,” said Fergus. “And we have finalized what we hope will be a reign of prosperity for our people. Henceforth, we will join as one. Tallsteeps and Lonehills together, as we once were, as we always should have been. To mark this, to mark the joining of our forces in a reign of opulence, we will again adopt the name that was once ours. We will now, and forevermore, be known as the Lonesteeps.”

  The applause around me now was deafening, and I felt like my eardrums were going to burst. Even so, it was hard not to get carried up in it, hard not to feel the swell of pride inside me.

  I helped do this. I might not have had the most important role, I might not have sacrificed as much as other people, but I helped do it.

  Though, something did occur to me.

  Lonesteeps?

  I always figured that if you joined their names together, they’d be the Tallhills.

  Or Lonetalls.

  Hillsteeps, maybe?

  Mardak approached the edge of the platform. “And now, my friends, we will honor our fallen friends, as is our custom.”

  Fergus nodded. “Noble men and women from both clans have given their ultimate sacrifice. They will be honored today but never forgotten, and our debt to them can never be repaid.”

  “Pendras,” said Mardak.

  “May the Land Beyond carry him away,” the crowd repeated after him.

  “Siddel.”

  “May the Land Beyond carry him away.”

  On and on this went, as each chief spoke the names of those who had died recently. He spoke each one with feeling in his heart, saying the names of clan members who had perished, others who I had never gotten the chance to know well enough.

  Mardak stepped forward to say the last name.

  “Rosi,” he said.

  “May the Land Beyond carry her away.”

  Rosi hadn’t returned while we were gone, and it had been so long without sight of her that only one thing could be assumed; Rosi and the party she left with had given their lives for the clan. I was sad that I wouldn’t see her again, but I knew that Lonehills didn’t like to think of their dead that way. It was considered more respectful to remember the dead in a better light.

  So I remembered evenings by the fire, where she would help me learn their language, and she’d tell me about clan ways, clan history, and all kinds of things.

  “And now,” boomed Mardak.

  His voice was loud enough to send a sparrow fluttering away from its potion on a tent pole, enough to quiet the murmuring cloud. I guessed he was trying to grow into his role.

  “Now, we must honor those who were prepared to pay a sacrifice for the good of our clans. Those who set out knowing a debt might await them if things ended poorly. A people whose example of cooperation was paramount in our thoughts when Chief Fergus and I discussed joining our clans as one.”

  Fergus gave a solemn nod. “First, may I ask that Judah approach this platform.”

  Judah threaded his way through the crowd before climbing up on the stage to join Fergus and Mardak. Mardak grabbed Judah’s arm and lifted it, to the sound of tremendous cheers and applause. The tallsteep scout nodded at the crowd. It didn’t surprise me that he was so low-key about it. The only time I’d seen him show emotion was when Adi-Boto was hurt.

  “Judah,” said Fergus. “For you, we have forged a blade using the bounties you brought from the mines. A blade to last generations, that will one day pass from your hands to another, always as a symbol of your courage.”

  “I hope there’s no passing just yet,” Judah said, before hefting his great sword in the air for everyone to see.

  “And now,” said Fergus. “I call brother Tosvig to join us.”

  Tosvig, wearing a fancy set of hunting leathers that a Tallsteep woman had given him in an obvious attempt to lure him, looked surprised. He was standing on the very edge of the crowd, but that was good. It was progress that he’d even entered camp in the first place.

  Judah had climbed from the stage now. He approached Tosvig, patted his arm, and leaned close and spoke to him, but I couldn’t hear what he said.

  Tosvig joined the chiefs on the stage. “To Tosvig,” said Fergus, “who is the symbolic embodiment of the values of both our clans, we also give a blade forged from metal from the Mines of Light.”

  They had forged a blade that looked perfectly suited for one-handed combat. The blade changed color depending on the angle you looked at it, from silver to purple to black. The carvings in the hilt were intricate, but I couldn’t see them properly from there.

  We had brought back all the metal buds left in the Mines of Light, and it would be generations before any more grew. While the metal would be used to make lots of new weapons and medallions so that everyone in the clan could be armed better, most people received a blade or spear or axe made from blending a small quantity of the metal with iron.

  Only those of us who went to the mines, as well as Fergus and Mardak obviously, received items made from pure bud metal.

  “Here’s to Brother Tosvig!” said Fergus.

  Tosvig held the sword close to his chest. I could have sworn that his eyes were red.

  The two chiefs rewarded all of us, calling Harrien, Kayla, and Adi-Boto to the stage to receive either forged blades or medallions. In Adi’s case, they made an exception for him climbing up there.

  Cleavon didn’t receive anything. Well, he couldn’t, could he? When we returned to camp, Fergus and Mardak had listened to our tale, and they had banished him.

  “And now Isaac,” said Mardak.

  I felt my pulse race. I climbed up the wooden stage steps and joined both chiefs. I was taller than Fergus, though he was much more muscled. Mardak towered above us all, almost as wide as he was tall. I guessed that came with being the clan chef for so many years. I imagined he still couldn’t believe the new role he’d found himself in.

  “No-color!” shouted Tosvig, from the crowds.

  “Turtle chef!” yelled Harrien.

  A few laughs rippled through the crowd. Everyone had heard our story by now. Harrien told his version to everyone who would listen, while Tosvig was more reluctant but would still answer people’s questions.

  Mardak squeezed my arm. “Isaac, you have had perhaps the toughest role of all, save those who went to the Land Bey
ond in aid of our cause. You took on a journey to the mines, you risked visiting the Beyond, all for a clan that is not your own.”

  “For two clans that are not your own,” added Fergus.

  Mardak walked to the edge of the stage, where they had kept the rewards they gave to the others. There was just a single bag there now.

  Mardak grabbed it and brought it to me. Already, I could see that it was much better than the inventory bag I had gotten from Kaleb. The workmanship was more refined, the materials tougher.

  “This once belonged to Pendras,” said Mardak. “It is a spare that he kept in his tent. Now, it is yours. I believe he would look on this with honor if his gaze could penetrate the Land Beyond.”

  I slung the bag strap over my shoulder. So this belonged to Pendras, huh? I remembered the time we had all camped out in a little cave, right after the attack on the water where Kaleb had died.

  Back then, Pendras had given rewards to those who survived the battle, and to me, he’d gifted two new spellbooks. One of them was hrr-barrer, the spell I used to create shields. It had saved me and the other guys countless times.

  The second spellbook was hrr-levita, a spell I had used in perhaps the most important way; it was the telekinesis spell that helped me kill Cleft.

  And now, I had Pendras’ bag.

  “It is an honor to be given a possession that once belonged to such a great mage,” I said.

  “Open it,” said Fergus. “We do not reward you with just a bag.”

  I opened the bag and looked inside. In there was a new medallion, a giant book that looked heavy enough to kill a guy with, and a set of robes.

  I took out the medallion. It was a sphere of metal, the same silver, black, and purple metal the Tallsteep blades had been forged with. I held the metal chain and watched the medallion turn in the breeze, changing color with every new angle.

  “Put it on,” said Fergus.

  I looped the chain over my head and let the medallion fall against my chest.

  Bud Metal Lonehill Medallion equipped!

  Elemental cost reduced by 50%Casting time reduced by 50%