Charms of the Feykin

by Charles E Yallowitz

  “That one is named Delvin, the flying one is Luke, and the dumb one is Sari,” the gnome replies with a proud smirk. The disappointing shrug he receives from his master causes him to kick a stone, which is staked by the Crossbow Dragon. “I was hoping to bring a smile to your face. Even with the birth of your son, you seem to be upset and lost. Is this in regards to Trinity and how Yola is protecting the chaos elves? I mean, you lost one of your best agents and the leverage that kept her under your thumb. There isn’t even an associated target for you to take your rage out on like when you lost Stephen and could blame Trinity. I wonder if that is why you keep having me build expendable sparring partners.”

  The Baron leaps into the air to kick the limbless beast in the face and send it careening several miles away. With a rushed spell, he creates a hand of stone that swats the Axe Dragon against a jagged hill. The enraged beast shatters the rocky fingers with its bladed tail and grabs the palm with its clamp-like mouth. It shatters the enchanted earth and uses the cloud of pebbles as cover to fire several spinning blades at its enemy. The warlord blocks and dodges the projectiles before catching the last one on the end of his rapier. With a fluid swing, he sends the keen blade hurtling back at the Axe Dragon, slicing off one of the beast’s wings. No longer able to hover, the large creature falls and is snared by a net of ivory vines that erupt from the cracks its landing makes in the rocky earth.

  “I am well aware of that issue and it is the current cause of my limited patience,” the Baron admits through gritted teeth. He blocks one of the Mace Dragon’s feet with his blade, the impact creating a shallow crater around him before he flips the construct over his head. “It does not help that my attempts at scrying on Trinity have been unsuccessful. All I get is darkness with random bursts of flame. If I had to guess, Nyx is helping her create a masking spell to prevent me from exacting some revenge. Neither of them realize that I do not need magic to figure out where the chaos elves are hiding. This setback only means I am unable to keep an eye on our traitorous Queen, which is not any less frustrating.”

  “Doesn’t it worry you that the channelers combined can overpower you?”

  “It takes two of them to block my sight. A battle is entirely different.”

  “What if Trinity stands with Nyx during the final battle?”

  “Then I will crush both of them.”

  “Kind of strange how your daughters, both by blood and adoption, have all turned against you,” Nyder mentions without thinking. The goggles on his head tighten, the pressure dropping him to his knees where the rocks have grown sharp enough to pierce his skin. “I sincerely apologize for my words. They were out of place and merely an observation that I should have kept to myself. Besides, you still have Yola and Melanie, so obviously I’m wrong. More importantly, all of your sons have been dependable, which means Walter will never betray you like Gabriel suggested. Though I do hope he takes after Tyler more than Stephen when it comes to loyalty, which is a fairly strange statement to hear out loud. Again I mean no offense, but we all know your fallen son meant to kill you. I’m only contradicting myself and making this worse, so I’m going to beg for forgiveness.”

  A barely audible growl rolls across the stormy continent before the Baron grabs the Axe Dragon by the snout. With a violent yank, he tears the beast’s head off and hurls it at the lumbering Mace Dragon. Unable to avoid the metallic skull, the club-footed creature explodes from the thundering impact. A spray of stakes punctures the Baron’s body, the toxic wood falling into the dirt as the wounds heal and push them away. The warlord feels a twitch in his fingers due to the poison that is swiftly cleansed from his blood and transferred to his rapier. When the polished blade has been coated in the dark red liquid, he throws the weapon at the Crossbow Dragon. A loud crack can be heard as the emerald in the beast’s forehead is shattered and the life drains from its unnatural body. The Baron holds out his hand to catch the falling corpse in his palm and angrily flings it at a nearby mountain. A cluster of protection spells appears around the cliffs and dissolves most of the massive creature before it can do any damage to the startled inhabitants.

  “Even throwing a dead dragon at the chaos elves sets off the defenses,” the Baron states, narrowing his eyes to watch the cobalt-skinned figures huddle in their caves. Seeing a lone child at the base of the mountain, he casts a lightning bolt that is deflected off another shield. “You are right that I am angry. Though I do not know if it is at Queen Trinity, Yola, or myself. I cannot fault either of them for protecting the chaos elves. Trinity is a beloved ruler and Yola is her loyal friend. As much as my pride hates for me to admit this, I know that my anger and grief created this situation. I assumed my adopted daughter would always come back or continue fighting until death, but she sided with my enemies to save her people. That is something I should have predicted. Instead, I ignored my own instincts and pushed her too far. Do you think I have been alive for so long that I have lost the ability to read people?”

  “First, I want to remind you that the only agents you have left are myself and Yola,” Nyder cautiously says while wiping his bald head with a bright pink handkerchief. The softening of his master’s features helps him relax, but the rapier reappearing in the man’s hand keeps him on edge. “To be completely honest, I do think your age and isolation have made it difficult for you to operate in social situations. Reminds me of a prisoner who has been incarcerated for most of his life and is suddenly released into a familiar, yet different, world. Now you’re still charming, benevolent, and intimidating, but modern day nuances are relatively unknown to you. This isn’t a reason to be angry or frustrated because it’s expected and, quite frankly, natural. After all, you’re going to be entering a world that is very different than the one you nearly conquered.”

  “You make a good point,” the warlord admits before his clothes reappear on his body. A bloated waterskin hovers around his head, a bubble of cool liquid drifting from the nozzle to his mouth. “Stephen, Vile, Trinity, and Tyler were my connections to the outside world. Each one helped me understand the new Windemere whether they meant to or not. I took all of them for granted and now I am blind. Being so close to the prophecy’s final act means I need to consider this issue. The last thing I want is to conquer the world and be revealed as an ancient fool. That may sound petty and childish, but a ruler’s reputation is very important and I would prefer not to waste time executing those who mock me. Do you think it wise to bring prisoners here and have them talk to me about these nuances?”

  “The kidnapping would make them too scared to be of use.”

  “And they could go insane by remembering me.”

  “I do have one idea, but you might not like it.”

  “Do not speak to me like I am a cowardly child.”

  Nyder searches his pockets for a battered notebook that releases a few old fingernails when opened. “The only way to truly learn about this is to experience or witness people in social situations. This means that you need to see other people interacting to understand both sides of a conversation. Now you can’t leave Shayd or the Chaos Void, but I believe you can mentally piggyback on someone that has a connection to you. They won’t notice your presence and the only thing you can do is observe through their senses, which is all you really need. The only problem is that the spell will leave your body in a comatose state for the entire duration of its casting. That’s the part I’m not sure you want to subject yourself to since learning this stuff isn’t that urgent. Another option is to conquer the world and learn as you go along. Honestly, master, that could be the easier path.”

  The Baron runs a comb through his hair and shakes out a few pieces of Weapon Dragon that get caught in the teeth. A rare and eerie silence covers Shayd while he considers the gnome’s suggestions. Gazing at the roiling storm clouds, the immortal warlord silently admits that he has unwittingly become an obstacle to his own progress. He also knows that Nyder is giving him an excuse with his explanation of modern day social norms being confusing. T
he reality is that the Baron has spent centuries among demons, undead, and a race of cowering exiles. Such a life has eroded his ability to interact with people and his bloated pride is not helping the situation. A terrifying thought crosses his mind when he realizes that he might be feeling lonely. Losing most of his agents in such a short amount of time has left only two people to remind him that he is a man and not a monster. One of his remaining companions is an easily distracted former goddess with a penchant for mischief, which means Nyder is the sole voice of reason and caution in the Baron’s life. In fact, the gnome could very well be the only person left on Windemere who even remotely cares about the warlord’s well-being.

  “This weakness must be removed from my mind. I cannot battle the champions if I am worried about making a fool of myself during a public appearance,” the Baron says, his attention returning to the patient inventor. With a long sigh, the nobleman rubs his neck and has his rapier disappear in a puff of metal shavings. “After Trinity’s betrayal, I feel it is wise for me to see how mortals interact and regain my mastery of reading others. Of course, once I have secured my kingdom, the more pointless nuances will be done away with. Besides, I may be able to learn some useful information about our enemies while I am among my future citizens. That debacle with the toys means people know about these champions and are more than willing to talk about them. What do I need to cast this spell?”

  Nyder rubs his chin and glances at his organized notes to make sure he has the correct information. “That is the tough part and another reason I’ve never brought this up with you until now. The spell requires one to have created an aural connection to the target. In other words, at some point your energy must have touched your target’s aura. So your choices are severely limited, if you have any at all.”

  “They certainly are limited, my friend,” the Baron replies with a wide smile. A sweet breeze washes over him and he takes a big sniff of the intoxicating scent. “But now I know who will be the perfect vessel. This little undertaking may be more fruitful and entertaining than I originally expected.”

  1

  A twisting beam of red and violet energy snakes away from the canopied balcony, which sits high above the rest of Stonehelm. There are no other patrons in the quaint library, giving the two channelers all the privacy they need to complete their complicated protection spell. Raw magic ripples throughout the rows of books and licks at the ceiling while several crimson tendrils caress the flickering torches that were previously extinguished. Wearing a flowing dress that helps to cover her large belly, Queen Trinity clings to Nyx’s arms as the strain of such a potent casting takes its toll on her. She takes a peek at the short and slender half-elf in front of her, frowning at the lack of sweat on the calm champion. It does not surprise her since she is nearing the final trimester of her difficult pregnancy and has refused to rest until her people are taken care of. Random bursts of energy fill Trinity’s body as her unborn daughter attempts to help, but the surges are such a surprise that they threaten her concentration. Not for the first time today, she wishes the child would settle for kicks to her insides and endless squirming instead of the occasional magical outburst. As the intricate casting hits its apex, the pull on her aura makes the chaos elf’s knees buckle. For a brief moment, Trinity is terrified that the baby might get hurt, but a jolt of power makes her think she should give her daughter more credit. Practically dragging her companion across the room, the cobalt-skinned woman moves to a cushioned chair and sits for the finale of the spell. With a hiss of sparks, the protection magic severs itself from their bodies and disappears over the mountainous horizon.

  Silence fills the library as Trinity slumps in her chair and Nyx takes a seat on the stone railing. They watch the barbarians celebrate their new rulers, a hastily thrown together party the best the tribe could do with only a day to prepare. The dark forms of the chaos elves are mixed among the muscular natives, the recent neighbors still trying to get used to each other. With there being some lingering tension and mistrust between the two groups, most of Trinity’s people remain on the outskirts of the party. Leaning over the balcony, Nyx can see that piles of flowers have been placed at the door of the citadel that sits below the library, both structures built into the mountain. A trio of snow tiger cubs leap around the offerings while their intimidating mother rests a few feet away, the bones of a recently devoured pig scattered about her. The stone houses with thatched roofs have been adorned with flags that show a pair of snow tigers facing each other and rearing up against a red background. Matching banners are draped over the defensive wall and they repeatedly billow out to cast part of the celebration in a soothing shadow. Pieces of the wooden fortification are still damaged from the recent battle, but the tribe has agreed that today is one of rest and revelry instead of work.

  Bellowing horns draw the channelers’ attention to the open field on the other side of the wall. Neither are sure what is going on, but they assume there are competitions going on and the noise signifies a winner. The games that involve running in straight lines or doing laps are easy to understand even from the other side of the city. Neither of the women can figure out what is going on when a log is seen flipping over a high pole or a ball is repeatedly bounced against the mountain by two players. For all they know, the two activities are connected along with the flashes of metal that rise into the air and glint in the sunlight. The channelers give up trying to figure out the rules of the distant games, especially one that appears to be nothing more than jumping in place.

  “Thank you for helping me with the spell,” Trinity says in a hoarse voice. Stretching her arm, she has a table waddle close enough for her to claim one of the sweating water glasses. “I know Yola will protect those I was forced to leave behind, but one can never be certain. She might only stop the Baron and ignore any demons that he sends. This spell will keep all of them at bay. Too bad we can’t bring my people here.”

  Nyx rubs her amethyst necklace while sliding off the railing and sitting on the floor. “It’s probably for the best since you want to retake Shayd. With chaos elves there, you have people to retain your claim on the land and watch over your cultural relics. Besides, it might be safer for them to stay in the Baron’s shadow. Outside of Stonehelm, your people are still seen as evil and not to be trusted. Bringing everyone over would earn you unwanted attention and many will think you’re planning a war. At least now, people will think you attacked the Snow Tiger Tribe and lost. Nobody will know that the chaos elves are hiding in the mountains and you should keep it that way for a little while.”

  “I’m not happy about that, but I’m not in any condition to do much else,” Trinity groans while putting a hand to her belly. A kick moves her fingers and she pretends to tickle the faint impression of a foot. “This little one is very strong, so I’m going to have my hands full. At least I have Sebave to help.”

  “Congratulations in advance,” the half-elf drones, flecks of fire appearing on her crimson shirt. She wipes the accidental flames away and starts pacing, her anxiety refusing to let her relax. “Are you sure you have no idea what my friends walked into? The Baron had to have told you something about the corruption in Delvin’s temple.”

  “Aside from the Garden of Uli, I was kept in the dark about the temple corruptions,” Trinity replies, accepting that they are going to have this conversation again. When she tries to grab a small bowl of grapes, the fruit rolls away from her hand and a plate of stemless cherries takes its place. “Guess somebody has her favorites, but it’s really disturbing when she does that. You know, you haven’t asked my daughter if she knows anything. Maybe it’ll be a nice change of pace since you interrogate me every other hour. Unless you enjoy hearing me remind you that I was never involved in that part of the Baron’s plans. Even if he wanted to tell me, we never had the time between training, the Zelacryd incident, being kidnapped by Stephen, and Arthuru hating me for protecting you.”

  “Sorry, but I’m worried about my friends.”

  “
Then why are you still in Stonehelm?”

  “Because Fizzle is too injured to travel and Kira needs time to get her ship to Gods’ Voice.”

  “In that case, save your energy and rage for when you get to the jungle.”

  Muttering curses in several languages, Nyx stops her pointless wandering and snatches her drink off the table. The cool liquid bubbles and hisses as her superheated hand turns it into vapor and melts the glass. Cheeks blushing, she tries to grab some food only to find that the table hops out of reach. Nyx makes another attempt, but the surprisingly nimble furniture sidesteps her and gallops to the far side of the library. A muffled giggle slips from Trinity’s lips, the chaos elf quickly clearing her throat and turning to watch the crowd below. The determined champion rolls up her sleeves and tucks her shoulder-length hair behind her pointy ears before charging at the table. She swings an open hand for an apple, but is stopped when a wooden leg stomps on her booted foot. Yelping in pain and hopping away, Nyx admits defeat and returns to the railing where she sits with her legs dangling over the edge.

  “It wasn’t too long ago that I’d consider pushing you to your death,” Trinity casually mentions as she puts her feet on a nearby stool. Flexing her toes, she sends a ripple of massaging electricity along her sore leg and back muscles. “Our lives have changed so quickly that I wonder if things will be the same tomorrow. It was only last week we tried to kill each other and today we worked together to protect my people. We’re even talking like friends. Too bad Sari isn’t here to join in the fun.”