by Ronald Craft
Chapter 2
A guardsman blocked their path, torch raised above his head. His worn armor fit snug around his middle. Each movement brought the creak of leather, and the clank of metal closer.
Ilian's mind raced. He wanted to shout for help, but his lips seemed frozen in place.
The guardsman took another step towards them and raised his torch higher. “What are you two doing back here?”
Karena prodded Ilian. “Don't try anything,” She whispered. Her expression was blank, but something in her eyes prevented Ilian from tearing his gaze away. It sent a shiver down his spine.
Ilian nodded. He had to clench his teeth to keep his jaw from quivering.
Karena smiled. "We were just on our way home for the night. How about you, sir? What brings you out here?" Her tone was light and cheery. The ease with which she changed her demeanor frightened Ilian more than anything. She's done this before, he thought.
The guardsman looked Karena up and down. “I thought I heard some fighting over this way so I came to investigate. Have either of you seen anything?” His gaze slid to Ilian.
Ilian shook his head.
The guardsman chuckled. “Oi, lost your tongue boy?”
Karena lifted her head and let out a lusty laugh. “His tongue works just fine, rest assured.” She ran her finger down Ilian's cheek. "He's just a little shy around strangers."
Ilian shuddered at her touch.
“Shy, eh?” He laughed. “If you ever tire of a boy like him, perhaps I can show you the pleasures of a grown man.”
Karena grinned and patted Ilian's crotch. “He's more than enough man for me.”
Ilian felt his cheeks redden. He tried to take a step away, but Karena wrapped her arm around him and pulled him close.
Her grip was like iron.
Ilian clenched his fingers into a fist. I have to do something. Think, Ilian, think! I have to get away from her somehow.
Footsteps came from beyond the alley and stopped. “Maric, where did you go off to?” a voice called out.
Maric turned his head. “Over here, Gerald,” he called back.
Gerald? I know him from the smithy. Maybe there's still hope...
More footsteps followed. A moment later, Gerald rounded the corner and entered the alley. He carried another torch with him that further illuminated the filth beneath their feet. “Bloody city,” Gerald muttered. “These alleys seem endless at times. One wrong turn and you end up lost.”
Gerald's gaze settled on Ilian and Karena. “Who might these two be?”
Maric shrugged. “Just a couple o' lovers on their way home.” He motioned towards the street. “You two shan't waste anymore time here. These streets aren't safe at night.”
Karena nodded. “Right you are, sir. Come, Ilian. Let's be off.” She tightened her grip on Ilian's arm and turned him towards another alley.
“Ilian?” Gerald asked. “Ilian, son of Kane?”
Karena froze.
Ilian faced Gerald. Most of the guardsmen knew him and his father from frequent visits to their smithy. Kane had fixed or forged most of the swords used by the city guard.
This is my chance, Ilian thought. “Gr—Greetings,” he quavered.
Gerald took a few steps towards Ilian. “Where's Kane?” He patted the hilt of his sword. “I chipped my blade again. Might be he can give me a good price on a new one.”
He's not here anymore, Ilian thought. His throat closed up and tears strung his eyes. My father is dead, killed by this woman next to me. Why can't you see that? Why can't any of you see it? She's a killer!
Gerald raised an eyebrow. “Everything all right?”
“Leave 'em alone, Gerald. The boy's just shy.”
“Shy?” Gerald shook his head. “This boy ain't shy. I know him.” He gripped his sword and loosened it in its sheath. “What're you up to, Ilian?”
“I—” Ilian shook his head. Tears streamed down his face. “She killed him. She killed Kane!” He dropped to his knees. He tried to stop himself from shaking, but his body wouldn't obey. He met Gerald's eyes. The man had been a guardsman for many years, ensuring the safety of the citizens from thieves and murderers alike.
It'll be all right, Ilian told himself. They can handle it. She can't take on two of the city guardsmen.
Gerald drew his sword and pointed it at Karena. “Let go of him. This is your only warning.”
Maric drew his sword and moved to their side. “I'm sorry, Gerald. I should'a seen it.”
“Stop running your mouth, Maric. Disarm her.”
“Oi,” Maric said. He reached for Karena's belt.
Karena released her grip on Ilian and shoved him to the side. He scrambled to his feet and pressed his back against the alley wall. This is it, he thought. She has no way out now.
Gerald took a step forward. “Maric, wait! She—” But it was too late.
Karena's elbow flew back and slammed into Maric's nose. Maric dropped his torch onto the ground as he stumbled away from her and covered his face with his hand. Blood gushed out between his fingers.
“Bloody hell,” he yelled. “The whore broke my nose.”
“Shit,” Gerald muttered. He closed the distance between him and Karena and swung his sword in a downward arc.
Karena danced away from the blade and in a flash of light the two daggers from before appeared in her hands. Her lips were turned downward into a frown. “Watch closely, Ilian. What's about to happen is your doing.”
Oh no, it's going to happen again. She's going to kill them! I have to—need to do something.
“I'll kill you for this,” Maric spat. He rushed Karena and swung his sword towards her head.
She slid past Maric and as quick as lightning drove her blade up into his armpit. Maric howled in pain and his sword clattered to the ground with a loud clang.
Karena wrenched the blade from Maric. She spun around behind him, grabbed him by the hair and drew her blade across his throat. His life spurted from his throat as he sank to the ground.
“Gods, no. Maric!” Gerald gestured towards the road. “Run away from here, Ilian.”
Ilian's entire body shook. He couldn't take his eyes off Maric's twitching corpse. She killed him! Oh gods, it's all my fault. I did this.
Karena rushed toward Gerald, daggers poised to strike.
Gerald threw his torch at Karena and shifted his sword to both hands. Karena crossed her daggers and deflected the torch away from her.
“Got ya,” Gerald said as he swung his sword downwards.
Everything seemed to slow down around Ilian. Karena's eyes and her lips parted as Gerald's sword came within inches of splitting her head in two.
And then she smiled.
The daggers in Karena's hands blazed a pale green and a pulse of air exploded from in front of her. Gerald flew backwards and landed hard on his stomach, while his sword skittered across the ground and landed in a pile of trash behind him.
Gerald lay motionless.
Karena walked over to Maric's still body, crouched and wiped her blades off on his leggings. “This is what happens when you disobey me. Learn it well.” She slid her blades back into their sheathes and rose to her feet.
Ilian's heart hammered against the inside of his chest. I can't believe this is happening. It's too much. A cough to his right broke him from his thoughts.
Gerald had propped himself up onto his elbows and eyed his sword. “I knew I should'a bought a blade from your father while I could still get one.” He smiled. “That one was no good for me.”
“You're tough, I'll give you that,” Karena said.
Gerald coughed and spat blood onto the ground. “Not tough enough, I s'pose.”
Karena picked up Maric's sword and walked over to Gerald. She held the blade over his neck.
“Killed by a fellow guardsman's sword, eh?” Gerald chuckled. “What a way to go.”
“I've shed enough blood with my own blades for today,” Karena said.
Gerald turned his h
ead and met Ilian's gaze. “Fool. What are you still doing here? Run!”
Karena drove the sword into Gerald's neck.
Despite the pain in his body, Ilian ran. Tears glistened in his eyes as despair washed over him. Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods, I need to get away. Please don't let her catch me!
Ilian's heart pounded in his chest and his legs burned with each step, but he pushed himself onward. He skidded around a corner and stumbled as his gaze settled on a group of men blocking the path ahead of him.
He couldn't afford to stop.
With no alternative, he slammed into the smallest one and knocked him over. Ilian almost fell, but regained his balance and continued running. Drunken curses followed behind him and a red-haired demon chased him across the city.
Ilian's lungs were on fire and each breath caused the pain in his side to explode. He felt himself begin to slow. I can't stop now. I have to get out of the city. If she catches up to me, I'm done for.
It was then that he saw the East gate. Torches illuminated the large wooden doors that kept the city safe from invaders. They can protect us from an army, but not from her, Ilian thought. Nobody can protect us from a demon like that.
A cart laden with barrels creaked as it rolled through the gate. The driver snapped the reins and the horse pulling the cart whinnied.
Thank the gods the gate is open, Ilian thought. I was right to pick the merchant gate. He took a deep breath and ran past the cart, out the gate and into the cool night air. A guardsman shouted at him but Ilian didn't stop.
He veered off the road towards the forest. Branches cut into his skin, prickers tore at his clothing and thick brush hindered his progress. His lungs ached, his side burned and his legs were weary, but still he ran. Finally, unable to continue, Ilian flung himself into a trench. He lay on his stomach and sucked in air as he fought to slow his breathing. He listened, trying to discern any sign of pursuit.
Only the sound of his heart beat reached his ears. The pungent smell of sweat and leaves filled his nostrils.
“Amateur,” Karena's voice said from above him.
Ilian tried to scramble to his feet, but his legs refused to obey and gave out from under him. Karena was in front of him in a flash. She grabbed him by the hair and slammed him face-first into the ground. His vision whirled as pain lanced throughout his body.
Blood began to trickle from his brow.
Karena stood over him. “I warned you. From now on, you will do as I say one way or another.” She grabbed him by an arm and dragged him up the slope. He kicked his legs and swung his arms, but his attempts to resist were feeble at best. She shoved him up against a tree and knelt beside him. Karena took off her cloak and laid it on the ground. She slid a small pack from her shoulders, opened the top and pulled a rope from within it.
“W—What's that for?” Ilian asked.
“You'll see,” Karena said.
The world spun as Ilian watched, too weak to move. Pain engulfed his senses. Blood dripped down his forehead and into his eye. He watched her with one eye as she withdrew a round, pebble-sized object from a pocket. It was black and absorbed the light around it.
His eyes widened. “You—”
“I'm ensuring your obedience.” Karena wrapped the rope around his body and secured him to the tree. The pain in his side jolted with each jerk of the rope. She gripped his jaw and forced his mouth open. Ilian tried to clench his teeth shut, but she yanked his jaw open again. Karena shoved the object into his mouth, squeezed his nose and worked it down his throat with her fingers.
The taste of ashes coated Ilian's tongue. His stomach revolted and tried to regurgitate the object, but it sat in his stomach like a chunk of iron.
“Don't fight it. It will only be worse if you do.” Karena stood up and withdrew a dagger from its sheath. As the vileness coursed through his body, Ilian watched in something reminiscent of horror. The dagger glimmered with a sickly green glow pulsating as if it had a life of its own.
“I—” The words froze on his lips as she lowered a dagger towards his heart. He tried to recoil away from the blade, but the rope held him fast. Then, with a twist of her wrist she plunged the dagger into his chest.
The dagger sank into him but no blood flowed. It pierced something else. He felt no pain, yet he screamed and the world withdrew to two piercing orbs. Ilian stared into them, at her eyes, as something deep inside of him tore away. Her lips met his, enveloping him in warmth. His body spasmed. Ilian tried to pull away, but she pushed harder.
And then something moved in his stomach.
Karena wrenched the dagger from his body. Her lips lingered on his for a fleeting moment, and then she pulled away.
Ilian's stomach heaved and churned, the muscles taut. He lurched and gasped as something moved up his throat. Bile rushed up behind it and Ilian vomited, his body forcing the foul thing out. The stone rolled onto the ground in front of him, devoid of the darkness it had held before.
Karena sheathed her dagger. “It begins.”
Ilian's head snapped up and Karena smiled. He felt something inside of him slip away. His body was cold, lifeless, unmoving. He willed his fingers to move, but they would not respond. The greenish glow that had enveloped Karena's dagger spread across his body. He watched in horror as it spread outwards away from him. The light left him, drifted away and turned, eyeless sockets meeting his gaze.
Its face was his own.
“This is your spark, that which gives you free will." She bent to fumble through her pack. "So long as I hold this, you belong to me.”
It floated above Ilian and reached out. The spark's hands sought Ilian's own, but something prevented it from making contact. It crashed into an invisible barrier and was knocked backwards. Ilian wanted to cry, but he was unable to do even that.
Karena pulled a small, red container from her pack. She pointed it towards his spark and cracked the lid open. The spark's mouth opened but no sound came out. It clawed at the air in an attempt to break free from the invisible force that drew it into the container, to no avail. Moments later, it was gone and Karena snapped the lid shut.
Ilian stared in disbelief.
Karena placed her hand on his head and muttered something under her breath. Warmth ran through him once more.
His fingers twitched.
“You will not defy me again." She held the container out in front of him. "The Eule will see to that.”
Ilian wanted to wring her neck, but his body would not move. What has she done to me?
“You will do and say only what I tell you to from now on.” She untied the rope, coiled it and slid it back inside her pack. He slumped to the ground, no longer able to move. Karena vanished from his sight, and for a long time he was alone.
Eventually, Karena returned, carrying several herbs. She pulled a small mortar and pestle along with a wad of cloth from her pack. The pestle scraped against the inside of the mortar as she crushed the herbs into a thick mush. She spread a thin layer of the mush across his wounds and wrapped them with the cloth. Pain lanced through his body with every breath.
Wh—What is she doing? Ilian thought.
“Don't get the wrong idea,” Karena said. “I need you alive. Sleep now. You will need your strength for this journey.” Karena placed her hand over his eyes. Ilian felt himself slipping away and, though he tried to fight it, he soon lost the battle.
His consciousness faded away he drifted into a dreamless sleep.
—
A body lay face up in the center of the alley, empty eyes peering at the heavens. Blood coated the cobblestones around him. This was the third body he had passed. The smell of blood had drawn him, but he had no interest in the others.
This one was different.
The man stood in the alley and surveyed the scene before him. He knelt down and felt the body. It was cold, but fresh. Something tugged at his mind, something he should remember, but he was unable to grasp it. He pulled a small knife from his belt. The man winced
in pain as he nicked his finger. He slid the blade back into his belt and squeezed the blood out with his other hand. Several drops of his blood fell into the mans mouth. His brow furrowed and he looked at his hand questioningly. He had done this before. He was sure of it. Yet, the memory eluded his grasp.
He touched the man laying before him on the forehead and muttered an incantation in a language he didn't recognize. The body shuddered, its wounds closed and its heart began to beat.
Thump, thump, thump.
Its chest rose and fell as strong lungs sucked in air. Blood ran through its veins once more and fingers folded into fists. Grey eyes flickered open and locked onto his own.
The man sat up.”Ugh... what happened to me?”
“You died,” he said.
“I—Is this the underworld?” He asked.
What am I doing? Who is this man? “This is not the underworld. I am in need of you.”
The man rose to his feet and gazed around him. His eyes settled on the blood soaked ground beneath him and he recoiled away from it. “I remember now. I died. This is my blood! What's going on here? Where's Karena?”
“I... brought you back. You are alive again.”
The man laughed. “That's not possible. This is some sort of test the gods have given me, isn't it?”
He shook his head. “The gods have nothing to do with this.” How do I know this? he asked himself.
“How—”
“What is your name?” he asked.
The man stared at his hands for a moment. "Kane. My name is Kane. I don't understand. Why am I alive again?"
“Come with me, Kane.” He held out his hand.
Kane reached out and withdrew his hand just as fast. “No. I need to find my son. I need to find Ilian. He should be here somewhere.”
He shook his head. “There is no one here but you and two other corpses.”
Kane turned his head. “Corpses? What happened? Where's Ilian?”
“I do not know of this Ilian. Everything was finished when I arrived here.”
Kane grabbed the front of his robe and lifted him up. “Show me these other corpses you speak of. One of the might be my son. I have to see.”
“Neither were boys. They were armored.” Why did I bring such an unstable man back to life? He would have been better off left as he was.
Kane released his grip on him and backed up a step. Tears glistened in his eyes for a moment before he wiped them away. “Why have you brought me back?”
He pointed towards the East. “I am pursuing something. I know only that it beckons to me, desires for me to find it. I need your help in retrieving it, for I fear that I lack the strength to retrieve it on my own.” He felt it, always, whether awake or asleep. His body ached for it. Every fiber of his being pulled him toward it. Even his nights were restless as it plagued his dreams.
The muscles in Kane's jaw rippled. “I must find my son. However, I am in your debt. I will help you, but only until the next town.” Kane cracked his neck. “What should I call you?”
The man rubbed his beard in confusion. What was my name? He asked himself. I feel like I should know it. It's...
Chaerok. Your name is Chaerok.
“Ah yes, it's Chaerok. Forgive me, I have a difficult time remembering things.”
Kane nodded. “I can't say it's a pleasure, but thanks all the same Chaerok. I believe it's time we get out of here, before day breaks. I don't want to be around when these other bodies are discovered.” Kane gestured towards another alley. “Come, I know a back route to get to my home.”
They procured several changes of clothes, some food and a large purse full of coin from Kane's house. As the beginnings of daylight bled forth from behind the mountains, they slipped through the East gate.
