The Harrowing Path

by Cleave Bourbon

“And what’s that green fog?” Devyn asked. He sniffed the air and cringed. “The smell seems to become stronger as the fog becomes thicker.”

  “It’s the stench of death and decay. Follow my lead and keep close,” Kerad said, moving slowly in the direction of Kelle. “That fog is a sign of the accursed people moving about. Stay clear of it if you can.”

  Gondrial snickered. “Stench of death.”

  Enowene gave him a stern look.

  Two armored figures lumbered from each side of the gate, dragging their feet in an unnatural stammer.

  “Stay sharp, they will not be alone,” Kerad stated.

  Despite the age of the armor the two guards wore, it seemed immaculate if not for the tattered swathes of cloth Devyn surmised was once a magnificent green cloak hanging loosely over the brilliant metal. A combination of chain mail and plate of a dull golden color from helm to boot, the armor’s elegance and style teased the eye with its splendor. On the breastplate was heraldry Devyn had never seen before. It was that of a hammer and anvil inlaid upon a sword and axe. The helm was spiked, and the pauldrons extended past the shoulders on either side. The elbows and knees were similarly spiked. When the creatures stepped closer, Devyn saw the hideous remains of the former men occupying the armor. The first man on the left had one eye; it was glazed over and oozing fluid, while the other socket was an empty, pus-oozing hole. Strips of rotting flesh sagged on either side of his face. The guard on the right was of little better condition. His eyes were both in their sockets, but the surrounding flesh had decayed, exposing them as large, glazed over orbs. His mouth was partially exposed, bearing his teeth in a frozen, unsightly smile.

  To Devyn’s horror, it began to speak in a slow, agonizing tone, “Kill me; please put me out of this misery.” Devyn felt a pang of pity pervade his senses until the pleading guard lunged forward at Kerad, swinging its massive sword. Kerad stepped aside and out of danger.

  “Aye, take my head,” the other guard pleaded. “I would give you riches beyond wealth if you would kill me.”

  Rennon gasped in shock. “Why do they plead for their demise?”

  “I suppose it hurts to be dead,” Gondrial stated with a nonchalant, half-grin.

  “Gondrial, do not make light. These people are suffering,” Enowene scolded.

  “Well, it’s ridiculous; how would he pay us all his riches after we kill him?” Gondrial asked.

  “I meant their pleading, Gondrial.”

  “So did I.”

  “Nay, my lady, don’t pity them,” Kerad said as he dodged another swing. “Sympathy gives them strength. We must coldly dispose of them.” Kerad swung his mace, knocking the first guard aside. “Vesperin, it is time. If the grace of Loracia has blessed you, your prayers will guide you true.”

  Vesperin nodded.

  Kerad used the mace and smashed it into the guard’s helm, but the armor showed no signs of damage. He then whispered a prayer, and a golden light enveloped the guard closest to him in a long stream of cylindrical luminescence.

  The guard shrieked and then dropped his sword. “Aye, thank you. Aye, my friend, release me from my damnation.”

  Vesperin tried to use the same prayer as Kerad, but the second guard did not fall so easily. “This one resists the will of Loracia!” Vesperin panicked. “I can’t kill it!”

  “Of course not, it’s already dead, young priest,” Kerad said. “He was an elf once, lad. You will have to use another prayer for the elves.”

  Vesperin spoke a prayer Devyn recognized as elvish, and the second guard collapsed to dust engulfed in a ray of white light.

  The party moved in closer to Kelle and noticed that she had begun to pull herself to her feet.

  “Stay still, Kelle,” Kerad directed. “Movement will attract more of them.”

  More greenish-blue fog began to pour in, and Kerad’s expression turned grave.

  “What is it, Kerad?” Devyn asked.

  “The fog grows thicker. Soon we will be overrun. I pray we have the strength to defeat them.” Two more armored figures rounded the ruined gates.

  Seancey stepped around Kerad. “Enough child’s play,” he said. He swung his sword with incredible ferocity, cleaving the nearest foe’s helm in half. Seancey used his sword and skill to clear the way to Kelle.

  Devyn staggered as he felt a sudden tingle in his head. Lady Shey and Gondrial both flinched.

  “Do the Enforcers have offensive spells?” Gondrial asked Kerad.

  “The creatures I sensed behind us have all moved off to the edge of the forest,” Kerad observed. “I have not been privy to any information as to whether or not Enforcers have the knowledge to use offensive enchantments; however, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

  “The fools,” Lady Shey said. “They have followed us into the forest. They will be killed.”

  Kerad nodded. “Most certainly.”

  “Wait a moment, then how are we going to get out of here?” Gondrial asked.

  Lady Shey opened the tome and began reciting the travel spell.

  “Nay, my lady, that spell will not work properly here. This place is cursed to prevent the inhabitants from ever leaving this forest, and arcane spells are particularly dangerous. Only the prayers of Loracia should be uttered here.”

  Lady Shey stopped and closed the book. “You mean we have to leave here on foot?”

  “Aye, it is the only way to leave here.”

  Gondrial looked sideways at Lady Shey and sighed.

  Disembodied random screams from somewhere in the distance made Devyn’s adrenaline soar. In one fluid motion of excitement and fear, Devyn lunged forward and reached for Kelle, pulling her to her feet by her forearms. She turned into him, and he embraced her tightly. Kelle returned the embrace, and Devyn felt her chest heave against his. “It will be all right, I have you now,” Devyn consoled. His heart pounded furiously.

  As they inched forward, Devyn could see down the main street. Vines and undergrowth choked the passages between the ruined buildings on either side. The street appeared impassable except for narrow trails. Seancey cleared the way through the cursed townsfolk with sword and shield, separating their heads from their bodies whenever possible. Several of them wandered aimlessly near a sizeable central structure surrounded by elegant arches and tall stone pillars. It was apparent to Devyn that the building had held a position of importance to the village once. As they neared the area, the cursed men began to move toward them, and Devyn felt an overwhelming fear gnawing at his soul, and his teeth began to chatter no matter how hard he fought to keep them clenched.

  Kerad moved in behind Devyn. “Seancey, clear a way to that large building at the center of the street,” he suggested. The party stood back to back in a moving circle, letting Seancey clear the way ahead as they protected themselves from the side. Seancey forced his way through the decayed remains of the metal lattice doorway and into the structure. Although the building was primarily made of stone, the framework of the roof and ceiling, once made of wood, had decayed long ago. Once inside, Devyn surveyed the interior, which appeared to be less touched by the hands of time. Extinguished sconces lined the interior walls to the left and right, and five rows of stone benches faced a staging area with a stone altar elevated before them. Seancey helped Devyn, Rennon, and Vesperin push two stone statues across the entrance to bar it from the outside.

  Except for the light coming in between rotted rafters supporting a partially decayed roof, the room was surprisingly dark. Gondrial lighted a sconce on the wall, illuminating the rest of the room. They discovered they were not alone. No less than five cursed undead moved toward them. One of the abominations wore robes, and the other four wore mere rags barely covering their decaying flesh and bone. None of the creatures appeared armed or even armored. Devyn swung his sword at the cursed nearest to him and lopped off an arm. The stench of decay filled his nostrils as the green and blue fog rolled in around his feet in thin streams.

  “Please, release us from this torment. Send us to the
afterlife,” The robed creature pleaded. “By the light of Loracia, embrace us!”

  Kerad burst forth in anger. “How dare you use the name of Loracia! You wear the tattered remains of the yellow robe of Loracia, but you are no disciple if you are cursed so.” Kerad swung his mace with deadly force; golden light exploded out of it as he struck the robed figure once in the head. The creature’s skull shattered in a burst of light as the skeleton beneath it fell into pieces. The tattered yellow robes fell into a smoldering heap of bones on the floor.

  Kerad’s display brought more cursed townspeople from a side room, and Devyn recoiled as he noticed two toddler size creatures coming from behind one of the stone benches. They wore plain brown robes and seemed much less decayed than the others. “Children too!” Devyn gasped.

  “The curse was on the whole of the village, not just the men,” Kerad said. “I expect we shall find cursed women as well.”

  One of the peasants began to plead. “Please, take our heads. The torment is unbearable. I do not wish you to join our curse.”

  “Aye, release us from our torment and I shall tell you of riches. There are treasures, arcane swords and armor forged by skilled craftsmen in the village armory,” a decayed skeleton wearing a leather blacksmith apron said.

  As soon as the creatures got close enough, they began to swipe and claw. Devyn cleaved the head from the creature he had struck earlier, and it collapsed into a heap on the floor.

  The creatures surrounded the party, and Devyn saw Rennon skillfully utilize his daggers. Enowene attacked the children first, which surprised Devyn until he realized she was trying to help them rather than hurt them. Gondrial wielded his sword surprisingly well, and Sylvalora seemed to watch the others fight while none of the villagers attempted to attack her at all. Lady Shey held onto the tome with the travel spell and followed closely behind Seancey.

  “We need to get out of this village and this forest as soon as possible,” Seancey said. “The Enforcers who followed us are surely dead as we will be if we linger here much longer.”

  “Agreed,” Gondrial said. “We will be completely surrounded soon if we stay in this temple.”

  Gondrial paused as if Kerad would say something but he did not. “Kerad, what say you? What is your plan to get us out of here?” Gondrial struck down the last remaining cursed inhabitant in the temple and stopped to await Kerad’s answer.

  “Aye, Gondrial, we should leave now,” Kerad said after a moment. “We should go back the way we came.”

  Devyn noticed the cleric had his eyes fixed on the altar as if in thought. He motioned to Gondrial to stand next to him. “What do you make of this?” He pointed to something Devyn could not see. Gondrial approached the altar carefully. Devyn followed him curiously. On the altar lay a thick bound book and a long golden rod with what appeared to be a key on the end. The rod and tome had thick dust covering them. Carefully, Gondrial picked up the tome, trying not to disturb the rod. Rennon stood behind him and curiously reached for the rod.

  “No,” Gondrial scolded. “Have you no sense? You never pick up a strange golden rod off an altar in a ruin. It is almost certainly trapped, or it would have been taken by someone long ago.”

  “Sorry, Gondrial, I didn’t know.”

  “Just keep your hands free of anything that appears valuable,” he paused, “and that goes for the rest of you as well.”

  Gondrial read the tome for a moment or two and then unceremoniously picked up the rod. Gondrial read a few more sentences before he noticed the shocked faces of Rennon and Devyn. “Well, this time it wasn’t trapped,” he paused, “but normally I say it would be, trust me.” He walked past the altar and placed the key end into an orifice in a statue of Loracia. The statue began to move aside as dust fell from it. Air rushed into the temple, blowing around more dust. Rennon sneezed.

  “The tome is written in old elvish and is somewhat difficult to read, but I gather this passageway leads to the underground armory, where the most valuable arms and armor are kept, and there is a tunnel out of the city. Apparently, it was believed that no one would steal from an armory guarded by the church,” Gondrial explained.

  “Convenient,” Enowene said.

  “Aye, too convenient. It’s a trap for certain,” Gondrial said. “Clerics make terrible guards.”

  “And just what is that supposed to mean?” Kerad asked.

  Vesperin clutched his head. “Wait, and do not enter that armory.”

  “What is it, Vesperin?” Rennon asked, placing his hand on Vesperin’s shoulder.

  “I feel...I feel something is wrong; there is something cursed and vile down those stairs.”

  “Different than the cursed we have already fought?” Seancey asked.

  “Aye,” Kerad said. “Now I feel it as well; this cursed is different, much more powerful.”

  A tormented moaning rose up from the dark stairway behind the statue, a terrible, longing sound that chilled Devyn to the bone. “What is it?”

  “Something dreadful,” said Vesperin in a whisper.

  The moaning became louder, and Devyn grew more uncomfortable as it did. “What must we do?” Devyn asked anxiously.

  Gondrial held his sword at waist length, and Seancey positioned himself for battle.

  Kerad sighed. “I fear conventional means will be of little use. Everyone step back and get behind the nearest pew.” Kerad fumbled with one of the rings on his left hand anxiously.

  “Shouldn’t we run or something?” Gondrial asked.

  “Too late for that,” Kerad said. “It approaches.”

  The same putrid green fog began to roll up ominously from the depths of the stairs. A stench stronger than before filled the room. Kerad stepped back one step as the otherworldly light of the creature fell in on the edge of the statue. “Whatever happens, do not run, for to do so would be folly. I know this creature; if you run, it will have you.”

  From behind one of the pews, Devyn watched in horror as a white, ethereal creature began to appear on the steps beyond the statue. Kelle squeezed his arm, and he could hear her whimper as it rose to the doorway. The creature had no flesh left on its face, and it wore white robes that were torn and flowed behind it without being blown by any natural wind. In its hand, it held a black sword with a black mist flowing off the blade as if it were a smoldering stick fresh from the fire.

  “A Spectre,” Kerad exclaimed. “Stay hidden. If it catches sight of you, it will put a fear in you that you won’t soon forget.” He heaved a readied breath. “I think I can hold off the fright, but should I fail, run and don’t look back.”

  “But you told us not to run!” Gondrial said, alarmed.

  Kerad held his hands up cupped in a praying depiction and cast the same spell he had used against the townspeople, but it seemed to have little or no effect on the Spectre. Only mildly stunned by Kerad, the creature struck back, but by some miracle, it missed as Kerad dove to one side. The foul blade merely graced a loose portion of Kerad’s robe, and it decayed and disintegrated in a large patch.

  Devyn noticed Vesperin seemed to be in a great deal of pain to his left. Clutching his head, Vesperin recoiled from the Spectre in fear.

  He had to do something. Devyn stood and threw his sword, in a panicked fear, at the creature. The sword passed through it as if it were merely air. The vile thing turned and focused on him; it moved silently toward him, and unrelenting fear welled up in Devyn’s soul.

  Kerad recovered from his fall and cast a prayer again on the Spectre, and this time it screamed a deafening, unnatural scream but did not seem to be damaged in any outward or recognizable way. It swung its black sword blindly at the old cleric, only to slice air and nothing more. “We cannot win this fight!” Kerad shouted. “Another option is needed.”

  Vesperin stood straight up behind the pew he shared with Gondrial and Lady Shey. Gondrial tried to stop the young cleric as he moved into the aisle, but his fingers slipped through Vesperin’s cloth robe. “What are you doing, fool cleric?
If Kerad cannot defeat this Spectre, you can’t.” Vesperin ignored Gondrial and moved out into the aisle anyway.

  The Spectre had pinned Kerad to a pew and held its black blade high to strike him down. The air was still and the moment hung suspended in time. Devyn was sure Kerad was doomed until a melodic, feminine voice came from Vesperin’s mouth. “Do not fear the light, foul Spectre; it is time to feel its warmth once more.” The creature turned its head to Vesperin, and its skull-lined face contorted in shock. Vesperin held his hands high and together as if in prayer, and a golden light came from within and surrounded him. The Spectre moved away as quickly as it could, but the golden light left Vesperin and followed it at an incredible speed. Devyn watched as Vesperin prayed and Kerad dropped to his knees and bowed to the floor. The Spectre screamed as the light engulfed it. In an instant, the silhouette of the Spectre burned away, its blade falling to the floor with a clang. A man stood in its place, wearing the white and yellow robes of a follower of Loracia. Vesperin walked to the man and put his hand on his shoulder. “You will rebuild Signal Hill and free its people. The time has come.” Then he collapsed onto the floor. Kelle and Devyn hurried to help Vesperin back to his feet. “I am okay,” Vesperin said.

  The man in the robes of Loracia reached down and helped Kerad to his feet. “Who are you? How have you freed me of the curse?”

  “Who are we? Who are you?” Gondrial asked.

  “I am called Esperdahl, and I am the keeper of the armory and high priest of this temple.” He looked around at the ruins in puzzlement. “Although, my temple has seen better days.”

  Kerad slowly raised his head. His eyes fixed on Vesperin. “Did you not see her? It was Loracia come down from Mount Venifyre! I know now how Vesperin survived his ordeal with the Dramyds. I had nothing to do with it. The visage within Vesperin was that of Loracia herself.” Kerad put his hands on Vesperin. “You are visited by our goddess. Young cleric, you are the chosen vessel of Loracia.”

  “Me?” Vesperin said, putting his hand to his chest.

  “I saw her with my own eyes.”

  Esperdahl bowed to Vesperin. “Praise to Loracia.”