Perdition's Rest

by J. C. Placeres

  Yulor didn't respond and continued to stare at Dorrun while completely ignoring the soldiers that were spread about his cramped home.

  After a few moments of silence Dorrun shrugged his shoulders at Yulor's refusal to participate in the conversation and continued. "I've heard that not many people like you or speak to you. I've heard that, while you're at work, others have been hearing rumblings from you. That under your breath you've been muttering and complaining about your treatment here. I've heard whispers that you speak openly about how what the Red Empire is doing to its citizens is wrong. These things I've been hearing might come off as traitorous to people in high places. I'm here to clear the air, to find out if these nasty things you've said about the Red Empire are true. So, what do you have to say former commander?"

  Yulor's body language continued to be stoic, he wasn't showing any agitation over the accusations thrown at him by Dorrun. The former commander finally replied to the gate keeper, glaring at his superior the whole time. "What do you want me to say Dorrun? Nothing I can say will save me now. Just do what you will with me and get this cat and mouse game over with. I have nothing to say to the likes of you or your cronies here."

  Dorrun grinned and stood up straight. The gate keeper slowly walked over towards Yulor coming to a stop two feet before the disgraced commander. "There are people here in Red Watch former commander who share your same opinions. Some in this city believe that the Red Empire has become corrupt and that it is rotting. For too long Mielor and the ruling class have rested comfortably upon the shoulders of the peasants. This blight that has recently fallen upon us is beginning to change things though. All the people want is help, but instead Mielor answers their pleas with an iron fist that demands obedience and nothing in return. There are people who have begun to whisper that perhaps Mielor is not as perfect as we have always been told. What sort of ruler would willingly let her people die and do nothing? What sort of ruler would willingly let her people live in abject poverty while she builds fountains of gold?"

  The gate keeper held out an open hand to Yulor. The former commander glanced at the exposed flesh of the palm quizzically and then shifted his gaze back to Dorrun. "I am one of these people Yulor. The tides are changing, and the masses are not as complacent as Mielor or the military thinks. A force is rising here in Red Watch that seeks to alter the course of our history. Every day more and more of the disgruntled masses come into our fold and soon we will make our voices heard. I am the one leading the people of the shadows, the forgotten Vesnians whom the rulers choose to overlook. You know the Red Army better than anyone else having spent your entire existence following Lorne around. I know you are full of hatred and anger at the way you've been treated. I'm offering you the chance to make a difference. Take my hand and help me lead the uprising, together we can save our people."

  Yulor was stunned and shifted his gaze back to the outstretched hand. Stammering at first, Yulor uttered his reply. "I...I don't know what to say. How do I know what you say is true? Why is this rebellion starting here?"

  Dorrun continued to hold his hand out while answering the disgraced Phlebos' questions. "What I say is true because I have absolute authority to do whatever I want. You were lucky that you were muttering your grievances around individuals who are already with the cause. Had you been unlucky, another officer would have come here, and this would have gone much differently. The rebellion is starting here because Morstosh rules over this city with brutality. You know better than most how cruel and barbarous that monster is. Several of our members have already been arrested by Morstosh's secret police and are being kept in prison indefinitely. They haven't talked yet, but once Morstosh begins torturing them they will speak, thus time is of the essence."

  Yulor looked to each of the army regulars in the room with them and saw that every soldier was smiling at the former commander. Hesitantly Yulor looked back to Dorrun and cracked a small smile. He reached his hand out and firmly clasped the hand of the officer. "Tell me Dorrun, where do we begin?"

  * * *

  Pulvold crossed his arms over his chest and glanced around the room in frustration. The Tormos champion was larger than most Vesnians but would still be dwarfed by Gunvold if standing next to the legendary Behemoth. Pulvold wore the standard thick reinforced leather armor as most Tormos warriors did, the clothing clinging tightly to his muscular brown skin. He glanced down at the basic wooden table before him which was now permanently stained with blood. The champion shifted his gaze around the room for what seemed like the hundredth time but still saw nothing of interest. There was no sign of struggle or blood anywhere else in the room. As far as he could discern the entire fight, if what happened could even be called that, had occurred right here at the table.

  Liurbin's corpse had been found slumped over on top of the table with a massive pool of blood covering the piece of furniture. Trails of the red substance had been dripping off the sides and soaking into the carpet underneath. The body of the chieftain had long since been removed, but Pulvold continually found himself returning to the crime scene trying to figure out what had happened. The muscular champion ran a hand over his shaven head and slowly began walking circles around the table and carpet. Officially Liurbin's death had been ruled an assassination, but the crime scene indicated anything but. When the chieftain had first been discovered slumped on the desk there was another chair opposite him which was pushed out slightly. There was no sign of a conflict and the dagger wound in Liurbin's throat was one caused by a deep puncture, not a slashing cut. The fact someone stabbed him directly in the throat meant the assailant had attacked from the front of Liurbin. Pulvold could only guess that whoever killed the chieftain had been sitting in the chair across from him when suddenly the murderer thrust the dagger across the table and stabbed Liurbin in the throat. The champion guessed that immediately after the attack the killer grabbed the chieftain and held him down on the table as the life fled out of him.

  None of these facts would point to a mysterious Phlebos assailant. The murderer had to be someone Liurbin knew, thus the suspect they sought was a Tormos. Pulvold had come to this conclusion dozens of times before and it always made him sick to his stomach. Each time he came here he wished only to find evidence that the Phlebos really were the parties at fault, but there simply was none. The killer was either some sort of ghostly apparition or an incredibly stupid Tormos who didn't even put forth the slightest effort to make it look as if a struggle had occurred. Pulvold had no choice, it had been two days since the murder had happened and he had to give the order, they had to begin investigating citizens who might have a reason for wanting Liurbin dead.

  A soft knock came to the door to Liurbin's chamber and, while still staring at the wooden table, Pulvold spoke out. "You may enter."

  The door quietly opened and one of Pulvold's subordinates entered, closing the door behind him. "Champion, I bring news of some urgency."

  Pulvold turned around to take in Tahanidul, one of his most trusted officers. "What is this urgent news you bring?"

  "Sir, do you recall the assault and rape that occurred two weeks ago the night of the Armistan meeting?"

  Pulvold nodded in the affirmative, "what of it Tahanidul?"

  "The girl," said his subordinate, "Shervold, the one who was assaulted. She appeared at the northern precinct office not long ago, she asked to speak to Gowinda, but we told her he was unavailable. She pressed us though on the topic, she said...well she's ready to talk. She told us everything that happened and who did it to her. You need to come right away sir, her story further complicates things."

  Pulvold grimaced and nodded while walking out the door with Tahanidul in tow. The guards who were permanently stationed outside the crime scene locked the door behind the champion. As Pulvold and his subordinate began making the long journey up towards the surface the champion whispered to his friend. "It seems the Three don't want to make things too easy for us, do they?"

  * * *

  Pilaen sat high up in
one of the watch towers stationed along the walls of Green March. It was the dead of night and Lunara was nothing but a faint sliver of light due to Nua consuming the sky in greed. On several occasions Pilaen felt herself drifting off to sleep but always jerked awake at the last moment. For her entire existence she had lived here in Green March. While it was possible in her past lives, she had left the city, as far as she could remember she had never seen any other part of the Red Empire. While she carried a sword, she wore no armor and was technically not part of the army. She was a sentinel; her job was to sit atop a watch tower and stay on the lookout for any undead. The sentinels cycled duties so sometimes she would keep watching during the day and at other times in the night.

  On only two occasions could Pilaen remember seeing an undead and alerting the army, however on both occasions there had only been a few of the creatures. Overall, she viewed her job as extraordinarily boring, but it fell to her to keep vigilant guard against the undead horrors. On nights like this when there was almost no light, her job was both easy and difficult due to the fact she couldn't see anything across the golden plains as everything was blanketed in darkness. Pilaen began drifting off to sleep once again when suddenly she heard a noise coming from the wall below her tower. She stuck her head over the wooden railing and glanced down into the darkness but saw nothing. The wooden watch tower she stood on was built into the very city wall itself. The barrier was twenty feet high and then her tower was another ten feet on top of that.

  Pilaen heard more scratching sounds coming from below but still saw nothing. She turned and grabbed the torch that burned in her tower and held it out into the open air trying to cast light below into the darkness. The flame was too dim though and she was greeted with more inky blackness. Suddenly the noise became louder than just faint scratches and it felt as if the wall was being pounded on. The same noise started to come along the entirety of the wall and not just from below her watch tower. The sentinel gripped the hilt of her sword and withdrew it from the holster. She turned to the east toward the next watch tower about a hundred feet from hers along the wall. Pilaen waved the torch back and forth frantically to signal to the next sentinel down the line but saw nothing in response. There were no return waves of the torch to signal that the alert message had been received.

  She knew something was seriously wrong and stuck her head over the railing again to look down. Once more all she beheld was darkness, but the noise was getting louder and louder. Not knowing what else to do she stuck the torch over the edge again but this time she dropped it, the flame falling all the way to the ground. She only caught a brief glimpse of what was below as the torch was instantly smothered amongst a writhing mass of rotten shambling corpses. Adrenaline started racing through her body and she turned to race down the tower ladder to warn the town and ran straight into a rusted blade that impaled her stomach. She gasped and looked up into the hideous face of a creature whose skin had long ago fallen off. All that remained was a yellow-colored skull. She dropped to her knees and slumped against the wall as blood poured out of her stomach. As she felt herself getting sleepier and sleepier, she glanced down off the tower and saw a tidal wave of undead pouring over the walls and spreading out through every street in the city.

  * * *

  Kelgorun finished reading the message with a scowl on his face. He quickly crumpled up the parchment and tossed it into the roaring hearth that was ablaze in his quarters high up in Glory Keep. While Lorne and Corvul were on the expedition in Juxton, Kelgorun had been appointed as the interim ruler of Aun's Light. The western theater of action was quiet enough to where he could also oversee the Yellow Ocean from the gateway city to Armistan. It had been two weeks since the expedition had left with still no word yet received from the Tormos. Each day Kelgorun sent a runner across to Armistan demanding an update and each day they were turned back with a generic response simply stating that there was nothing to brief the Phlebos commander on.

  Today's return message had been no different, just more drivel from the northern dogs about how Kelgorun would be informed when there was worthwhile news. Kelgorun felt his face burn hot and his muscles tensed in anger. He gripped the arms of the chair he sat in so tightly he could hear the wood creaking under the pressure. His eyes glazed over with hatred as they reflected the violent flames of the fireplace dancing about in the warm air. The Tormos filth had his Sielan somewhere in Juxton, he knew it had to be true, but for what reason he didn't know. He knew it was inconceivable that Lorne, Thelais and Sielan could have failed in their quest. He had no respect for the vile dog that was Corvul, but the other three, especially Sielan, were blessed, their failure was impossible.

  The handsome western commander had never respected the savage Tormos, but now with Sielan's disappearance he felt a new emotion slowly consuming him: hatred. Kelgorun had seriously contemplated forcefully seizing Armistan and shutting down all trade to wage an economic war on the Tormos until they produced either Sielan or answers. He backed off his idea each time though with much reluctance as he did not know what Mielor's reaction would be. While such a cessation of trade would hurt the Tormos the most, it would also hurt the Phlebos. With each passing day Kelgorun cared less and less as to what possible ramifications his actions would have. Every day that ticked away was another day where the return of Sielan seemed less likely.

  He glanced to the door and saw Poznor standing silently while eyeing his superior with concern.

  "I assume the message was the same sir?"

  "Yes," said Kelgorun, although his response more resembled a snarl. He shifted his gaze to the fire before him. "The Tormos mock me and the entire Red Empire. The fact that four of our highest-ranking officials have gone missing in their country seems of little importance to them."

  "Do you still wish to send another messenger tomorrow morning sir?" Poznor ringed his hands together, he did not like seeing Kelgorun filled with such rage.

  "Yes, although I don't see the point." Kelgorun stood up abruptly and walked out onto the balcony of his room which overlooked the Armistan bridge. Even in the night he could see in the far distance a faint white swirl in the air. There was a blizzard raging over Juxton.

  "Even Nua is showing us her anger at those northern dogs. Just look Poznor, she is trying to bury them under an avalanche."

  Poznor slightly nodded his head while standing near the door. "So it would seem sir."

  Kelgorun turned and stalked back into his room. "Do they think they can hold her from me? That they can ignore our inquiries? I bet even now they have the cure and are keeping it from us. Does their wretchedness have no end? First, they commit genocide on an entire tribe, but that apparently was wasn't enough. Now they've set their sights even higher and aim to wipe out the entire Phlebos race!"

  Poznor cleared his throat. "Do you think such statements may be an overreaction sir?"

  Kelgorun grabbed the chair he had been previously sitting it and flung it across the room, the wooden object smashing to pieces as it slammed against the hard marble wall. "They have them! They have her! We should have never let them go! Remember not so long ago Gunvold brazenly tried to kill Corvul! This is not an overreaction, it is underreaction. Who knows what those beasts are capable of!"

  Poznor took a step back and meekly nodded. "Of course, I apologize."

  The commander let out a sigh and suddenly slumped his shoulders. He ran his hand through his long perfect hair and walked over to his bed where he sat down. It was unsettling to Poznor how quickly Kelgorun had gone from frothing anger to wretched dejection.

  "No, I apologize Poznor, I shouldn't have acted in such a way around you, it's just," Kelgorun paused for a moment while he had a catch in his throat and quickly wiped his eyes with his hands. "You know how close Sielan and I are, I worry about her every moment of every day, I don't know what I would do without her."

  Poznor walked over to his superior and knelt before Kelgorun while placing his hand gently on the western commander's thigh.


  "I know what she means to you sir, but she will be fine. You must believe that the Three will safeguard their chosen children, especially those who are so far away from the light."

  Kelgorun nodded with a faint smile and gently placed his palm on his subordinate's face. "Thank you Poznor, your kindness does me good. Until Sielan has been returned I cannot rest, I must ensure her safety."

  Poznor placed his palm atop his superior's hand and held it tenderly against his face while nodding. "I understand Kelgorun. Should I stay with you here tonight?"

  The commander pulled Poznor closer, and he bent his head and gently kissed his subordinate on the lips. "Not tonight Poznor, there is work to be done. Please prepare my horse as well as an entourage of soldiers, I plan to leave at first light for Aun City. I won't be gone long; you are more than fit to keep things running here while I'm away."

  "Understood sir," said Poznor as he removed Kelgorun's hand from his face and placed a gentle kiss on it. "I will be here for when you return. Would it be wrong of me to ask why you are going to Aun City?"

  Kelgorun and Poznor stood up in unison, the two of them walking over to the door together. "I'm afraid I cannot tell you Poznor, however know that if I'm successful, I won't be returning alone."

  * * *

  Tulinda jerked awake rolling over onto her side and coughing with what seemed like every muscle she possessed. She gagged violently while water spurted from her mouth. Her whole body was soaked, and her head pounded in agony, but she pushed back the pain. She felt sand on her skin, fine granulated sand that stuck to her flesh. She lifted her head, the left side of her face coated in the soft sand, and quickly wiped at her face to get the substance off. She was still groggy but tried to remember back to the last thing she could recall. Tulinda thought back to Gunvold covered in blood and then a cave-in, the cave-in she allowed, the weakened stones of the cavern collapsing at her bidding. She wracked her brain trying to remember and it dawned on her: the tidal wave. The last thing she remembered was the tidal wave and what it felt like it - unnatural. The wave was not of her doing nor was it caused by the reverberations from the quake she goaded to occur. The tidal wave was magical, a magic unlike anything she had felt before and yet it was vaguely familiar.