by Paul Yoder
The debilitating aura from the shade suddenly drained from her mind and body like a plug had been pulled, emptying her of the neurotic effect.
She struggled forward, drained from the experience, but in control of her senses once more. She moved in on the shade that hung over Malagar, like a death shroud latched onto his flagging body as it slowly marched forward.
Holding up her amulet, she pressed it towards the chilling mantle. It gently recoiled from them, floating away into the shadows, causing Malagar to stop his march and turn to see Lanereth standing there before him.
“Go, we’re almost there,” she prompted, her voice weak and struggling.
He wrapped an arm around her for support and the two hobbled out of the red-slick corridor and back into the ashen canyon that bore no faces.
31
Reposition and Prepare
Reza walked into the circle of friends that tended to Jadu, who lay atop a bedspread, Cavok holding up a palm frond for shade as Terra prayed over him as he snoozed comfortably.
Zaren stood by, unconcerned at his student’s condition, having declared that he’d be fine with some rest and that he just overexerted himself in the spell. That didn’t allay everyone else’s concerns for him, even Reza.
“How’s he doing?” she asked, nudging her way in between Cavok and Arie.
Terra ended her prayer, looking up to the saren and shrugged her shoulders, replying, “Elendium does not answer my prayer of health, so I assume he is, as master Zaren said, ‘just tuckered.’”
Reza looked upon the comfortably dozing praven for a moment, her worries over him subsiding, then announced to the group the news she had come to deliver.
“Hathos wants everyone packed and ready to ride within the hour. Whatever Jadu and Henarus did up there worked, and Kissa claims to know the location of not just the arisen army, but multiple Tarigannie forces on the move across the region. We’re going to need to relocate.”
“Where’s the arisen army?” Arie asked.
“Close by, actually. Just south of us, not even a half day’s ride. They did not take the highway, they march along the skirts of the dunes. Once Kissa’s sight was augmented, she was quickly able to spot them. The force is large. More than what we’ll be able to consider contending with. We will require the Tarigannie forces if we hope to win,” Reza reported.
“So then, where are the Tarigannie forces?” Cavok asked, tossing the frond as Jadu sleepily snorted, sitting up, stretching out as he came to.
“There’s a few. A small force comes from the fort south of us. They already seem aware of the arisen army and are positioned nearby.
“Then there’s two coming from Rochata-Ung. A cavalry unit, a bit larger of a force than the one that collected the prisoners from us the other day. They’re positioned northeast of us further up the dunes.
“The second is an infantry unit. That one’s the large one. A thousand to two thousand soldiers. They’re marching on the road south to Daloth’s Ribs. My guess is they are attempting to cut us off, surrounding us from behind, and with Fort Wellspring south of us, I suppose they were in no hurry as we’d come upon the fort and been intercepted if we had continued south.
“There’s also a mounted force crossing the Dolinger Crags,” she explained, looking once again to Jadu who had been rubbing his eyes sleepily.
“So, the experiment worked?” the praven asked, standing up wobbly.
“Indeed, my young one,” Zaren answered for her, giving a crooked, slight smirk of pride at his performance that day. “Your marriage of science and enchantment is, dare I say, impressive at times.”
Jadu smiled at the praise, and all present gave him the moment, knowing how rare a thing it was for Zaren to be giving compliments.
“So where are we headed?” Cavok asked after the pause.
“Yes,” Reza grunted, shifting in place, getting back to the matter at hand. “Hathos believes that Rochata-Ung’s forces needs to see the arisen army for themselves, so we’re going to have to get somewhat close to Sha’oul’s force. We’ll move to the dune’s edge and trail them from a distance. The infantry force should intersect the force regardless as they come south, but the cavalry, they’re the ones I worry will not believe us on our word of the looming threat. They’ll need to see the arisen army for themselves, and so, if they want to engage us, we have to be close enough to the arisen army to force them to behold the enemy within their borders.”
The plan sunk in with everyone for a moment before Arie whispered, “We near the end of all of this.”
Her words lingered for a moment, all coming to terms that war was inevitable at that point, and they were currently just at the edge of the storm.
“Good,” Cavok gruffed. “I’m ready to smash that sonofabitch arisen’s face in for all the trouble he’s put us through. We might finally get Nomad back.”
“Let’s hope he’s reclaimable,” Reza distantly said, the slightest tremble of hope in her voice for the outcome.
“Ready up,” she said, coming back to the moment. “Only a few miles left to our journey.”
32
Along the Ridges
“Eighty men, all passing Daloth’s Ribs now. Paari, the officer I sent to collect them, rode ahead to report that they should be here before nightfall,” Kaylic whispered, sneaking up next to Durmont, Jezebel, and the scout that was on duty watching the ruins far across the highway.
They had a good vantage point from their camp, and along the crests they had stationed sentries, keeping low and out of sight, watching the activity of the dead army as the days wore on, very little activity ever occurring amidst the totem-like figures that stood along the outskirts of the site.
“Supplies?” Durmont asked, hoping that the neighboring town had been kind enough to send as much aid as they could.
“They’re all on horseback, though they only brought a few ten tethered. Some food and drink, though no spare weapons. They brought what they will use for battle, nothing more,” Kaylic answered.
Durmont gazed over the still scene down in the valley a moment longer in reflection of the report, tapping Jezebel on the shoulder as they backed out of the perch, leaving the sentry there to keep watch.
“Now we wait for Lõrinc to return with, hopefully, a force worthy of facing that necropolis down there,” he said to the both of them, making their way back to the army’s camp tucked in the foothills of the sloping mountain range.
“What if they do not send enough troops?” Jezebel asked, seeing the mere three hundred fort soldiers camped amongst the boulders at the base of the hills, knowing Durmont’s men, coupled with the eighty villagers on their way up from the closest town to the south would make little impact on the formidable horde that was stationed not but two miles east of them, nothing but a small ridge hiding them from view.
“If they don’t send enough to openly confront the arisen…” he paused, mulling over the options he had been giving thought to the last few days, “then we will wait for them to make the first move and react. If they don’t, then I will return to Rochata myself. Let’s hope I do not have to do that. Heads would roll along the judges’ floor at their dereliction of duty.”
“Speak of the devil,” Kaylic exclaimed, looking to the camp, seeing a horseman ride in through the back canyons from the highway. “I do believe that’s Lõrinc.”
Durmont hastened back to camp with Kaylic and Jezebel close behind, the three smiling to see that it was the chief, returned from his mission, the captain desperate for updates and news on the hopeful Rochatan support.
“Tell me you bring good news,” Durmont entreated, helping the man down from his horse, handing the reins to Kaylic to deal with as he guided Lõrinc with Jezebel into camp.
The chief’s expression told of good news even before he replied. Though he seemed exhausted from the long journey, he returned the smile that hinted at success as he gave a reply.
“I didn’t even make it to Rochata before I intercepted an
infantry battalion—a large one—close to two thousand. I spoke with the lead colonel. They were headed south chasing a Plainstate threat. It seems other states have been active as of late in our region. Not sure if that other faction is truly a hindrance or help, but I briefed them on the arisen threat and of our current situation, and they plan to continue south along the highway to inspect for themselves. They will send liaisons once they’re here later tonight. We should be able to begin coordinating a strategy of attack.”
Durmont kept a stern face during the report, asking, “Two thousand you say? We will still need more than that I fear to face them head on. I’ve been studying their army. There’s an assortment of horrors within their ranks, large beasts, ferocious looking. They have done well to keep hidden mostly, but we’ve spotted them in the shadows from time to time. Their force is no simple matter of outnumbering. We will need a strategical advantage if we hope to level them.”
Lõrinc knocked back gulps of water from his canteen, nodding his head as he wiped his mouth with his sleeve.
“There’s another detachment of cavalry east of them in the dunes. They’re chasing the Plainstate company. We might be able to get word to them to join in on the effort as well. They should be closing in daily in our direction,” Lõrinc replied, catching his breath before adding, “With what the sarens were saying about having come here to face this threat, I wouldn’t be surprised if that company our men are chasing are here for the exact same purpose. If that’s the case, they too would be potential allies to this extermination.”
“That…is better. Still, we’ll be outnumbered if our numbers are correct. But that is good to hear. We’ll need to send riders out promptly to begin a network for this effort. Without communication, it seems we hold the disadvantage in a confrontation as it stands.”
“Give the word and I will send riders to all parties to begin coordinations,” Lõrinc said, Jezebel adding, “We will help with the Plainstate communications.”
The two looked at her, Durmont calculating how wise that was for them to trust the relatively unknown group to take on such a pivotal task. If they botched it, and the Plainstate became hostile with them, that would be an additional problem they did not need to be dealing with at the present.
“Yozo, the man with us, and the others we had teamed up with to fight the arisen the first time, they have ties to the Plainstate. If luck serves us, then perhaps they even know this mysterious detachment your men are chasing. Yozo is a good rider, unmatched in combat. He could act as our diplomat,” Jezebel explained.
“Perhaps that is best,” Durmont approved, agreeing to both suggestions.
“We’ll proceed as such. See that our riders are out of camp as soon as possible. We have given our enemy too much time to prepare already. Let’s see that they are given no further advantage.”
33
The Mouth of Hell
Rain lightly drizzled along the canyon’s brim, and from their location at the edge of the rise, they had a good view of the surrounding terrain.
Safely under a low, but wide, canopy of leathery mushroom tops that overhung the cliff wall they huddled against, Malagar scanned the movement of the various demons that were migrating from the city to the shining light that had also drawn them forth.
There was a draw in such light in a place as this. It was a sign of something different, of potential change and hope. He wondered if even the wretches of this vile place constantly hungered for the chance of change, the potential for hope—anything to grant them more than what they had here in this hell. The draw to escape its sullen atmosphere ever gnawing at them.
They sipped from the flask of slightly acidic water as they rested, gnawing on some of the leathery fruits they had pocketed further back, not wanting to agitate the mushrooms they currently were using as shelter by attempting to snack on them as well.
“They move to the light,” he noted, pointing to the thousands of distant dots that moved in herds up the sloping shelf towards the beacon at the edge of the plateau.
“Then we’ll need to keep close to those rocks along the edge of the shelf to stay hidden if we dare hope to get close to whatever that light is,” Lanereth said between mouthfuls of mushroom fruit.
“We are getting closer…,” Malagar distantly mentioned, looking with squinted eyes at the blinding light that was now only a few miles from them.
“Can you see what it might be yet?” Lanereth asked, holding up her hand to shield the light that shown down from the rise above them.
“It’s a monument of some sort. I can make tall statues out. The light is coming from some sort of structure. Hard to say. I can’t see much detail with how blinding it is,” he said, looking away, rubbing his eyes from staring at the blinding light for too long.
“Even at a slow pace, that distance is maybe a day away,” Lanereth said wistfully, worried what possible hope they might cling to after that if they arrived at the light to find no lead to their liberation from the realm.
“Yeah, seems about the way of it. Hopefully we don’t run into any more specters…,” he added, leaving the thought to linger, both still not having yet discussed the living nightmare they had trudged through earlier in the canyon. That was a trauma undoubtedly they would need to unpack and work through some other time, if they ever had the privilege of focusing on anything but survival. Until then, they both seemed to think it best to leave that event forgotten and behind them.
“Hope Wyld finds her way,” Lanereth said, looking back to the towers in the distance, the ash and rain tumultuously mixing to create a muddy swirl of foul weather, obscuring all but the closest structures.
“I do too,” he added, looking back for a moment, before testing a hand out from under the mushroom canopy, finding that the rains had passed them by.
“Well, it’s not far now. We’d better get to that light before the masses down there do. You ready?” he asked, offering her a hand up from the uneven rocks they had been resting on.
She accepted his hand, though had no answer for him. She was afraid to place too much hope in the light.
The day had been relatively calm, the hike through the boulders being difficult at times, but with no further rain showers, and no other creature sightings, it was simply a scramble through most of the day that they had to undertake, and that was a struggle they both did not mind, especially now that their bellies were filled with food and drink.
The closer they came to the beacon along the rise, the clearer they could see the statues around it, though, they did not know if that was a good thing.
The light ripped into existence from within a framework of bone. An archway of massive proportions, hundreds of feet high, held together with ivory belonging to every size of creature imaginable, formulated a gate that was undergoing some sort of action that warped the fabric of reality before their eyes, churning over and over on itself, attempting to stabilize.
The statues loomed a hundred feet high, and sat upon thrones, robed in rippling cloth made of a substance similar to the faces in the wall they had passed earlier, souls bound within, slowly morphing through its creases, silently screaming, ever searching for a way out.
Luckily, they could only see the backs of the figures. Even then, they avoided eye contact with the looming monuments, afraid to look too long at the shadowy cowls.
The horde of pit spawn had been slow to the monuments, even they seeming to fear the line of statues that looked down upon the path leading to the light. For the time being, they were at bay, and the two made their way around the rock fields to the side of the huge structure that shown forth its golden light across the hellish land.
Malagar froze at the edge of the outcropping, turning to see Wyld quietly making her way through the last of the boulders to set paw out into the clearing, walking up to the base of the structure.
“Wyld!” Malagar urgently whispered.
The kaith didn’t seem to hear his warning voice, and her Seam scar flared along the small remain
ing part of her corporeal body.
They looked down the path to the hellish creatures lining up along the rows of statues to see if any had taken note of Wyld as she strolled out towards the base of the gate. All were in a trance, standing silently, swaying erratically, staring straight ahead. The strange image sent a chill down their spine.
Malagar sprinted out after her, Lanereth following reluctantly behind, running up the old steps to the mouth of the gate. The massive arch of bone had lattices tacked to its side and base which stretched all the way up its several hundred feet, old structures looming over them, threatening to topple on top of them at any moment.
Wyld entered one of the hovels of bone, huddling with arms around her knees while looking to the ground, rocking back and forth.
Malagar and Lanereth caught up, kneeling beside her, Malagar gently touching the only part of her arm that still remained fully in their realm, the rest of her fading, flickering between places.
His forearm burned, a memory of the bite she had given him weeks ago reminding him of the sting of the Seam he had often felt. It seemed to be inexorably tied to his fate, and he wondered, was his destiny going to look similar to Wyld’s?
“I don’t know how much longer she’s going to be with us, Lanereth. Regardless of if we find a way out of this hell or not. Wyld’s existence is…becoming less sound.”
Lanereth could hear the worry in her companion’s voice. He cared greatly for the kaith, she could tell. And though she had sympathy for her, she knew of nothing she could do to help, even with the direct aid of Sareth.
The Seam was a place of confusion, unknowns, and danger, even for the gods themselves. It was potentially one of the only things that could wipe their immortal presences from the planes of Wanderlust permanently; and because of that, none but reckless mortals flirted with it.
