Johan fought to keep the blackness from taking him. He wasn’t ready to die. He had many more things to do in this life. Women, oh the women he had yet to meet. Johan sighed. Pain seared through him. He couldn’t hear what happening around him. All he could hear were his own thoughts.
Satisfied that the attack on Johan had been a success, Bokat stood fully upright. The eyes on either side of its head scanned and determined which of the four remaining attackers was the greatest threat. The solid armored one in front that had tried to defend Johan was the prime target. Bokat focused on Darr.
Unclear whether he had been seen or not, Thalin took this moment to be sure of his form and his footing. Never in his memory had he been given this much time to line up a shot so clear. Thalin had also been given the time to look and to truly see Bokat for what it truly was, a mixture of creatures. Kimera was an apt classification. Just how did the sailor, Johan know it as well? Thalin wondered.
Darr saw he was now the focus of the kimera. The kimera reached down and grasped Gadlin’s hand where he was holding the spear, pulled the spear from his leg, and cast it aside. Gadlin, not releasing his weapon, went as well. Bokat spun the ranger off center, and out of range of the melee. Darr realized that Bokat could easily control each limb individually and without distress. Standing from where he had been attempting to cover Johan with his shield, Darr now pushed that shield into the face of the beast in a bid to blind his vision. Darr rotated to the right and hit Bokat with the Zweihander in his left hand. The monster was struck with enough momentum and sufficient force so as to allow the sword to cleave the tough hide.
Wandalor, seeing the lack of effect his energy bolts had on the kimera, took a deep breath as the beast attacked Johan. Magic is manifested differently from being to being, and these differences could lead to strife from time to time. This was bound to be one of those times. Kneeling on one knee and concentrating on the most powerful ideas of magic, Wandalor applied the idea. It was known that great magicians or practitioners of magic don’t need a voice, for they are Eldritch. The magic flowed through them. They didn’t need to speak, only to think, and his will would become matter. This idea took hold in Wandalor’s mind and issued forth a stable ray of extermination and force of will so powerful that, as it struck Bokat, the energies that were not forced into the creature fell to the ground and burned like dollops of lava, burning marks and scars onto the soil of the cavern.
Thalin let loose the arrow he had waited an eternity to let fly. It was a broad-headed arrow that Gadlin had made for hunting with a broad head. Gadlin had worked with the blacksmith so as to twist the arrowhead. The skilled smith had said it would fly better. The twist would dig deeper into the wound and cross-cut flesh.
Terrified, Gadlin kept his eyes clamped shut. He heard a sharp piercing ringing in his ears, then silence. Whatever caused the agonizing sharp pain in his arm, he knew it would not look pretty. His arm was crushed, sounding like the crackling of ice when he attempted to walk across the surface of a frozen lake. His hand felt like all twenty-seven bones were broken. He desired relief no matter what form it came in. He even contemplated giving up completely. There didn’t seem to be an end in sight. It took him a moment to gather his thoughts, or at least gather enough of them to think a little clearer. Gadlin took a deep breath and shifted his focus, determined to swallow the pain and keep going. There was no way he could give into the pain. He would press forward, every movement adding to the barrage of suffering.
Chapter Eighteen
Darr’s strategy worked. His shield blocked the kimera’s view of him, allowing him to turn. The rotating of his body increased the centrifugal force of his blow, cleaving the beast’s lower left arm just above the elbow joint. The blade continued to travel on its course, clipping directly through the tough fur like the prow of a ship sliced through water. The Zweihander created a fissure in the thorax of the kimera, opening up a wound so profound it seemed as though Darr had taken a bath in the wound. His weapon dug deeply and found a bone to lodge itself within. Before the kimera could issue out a call of pain or regret, the creature was silenced. The combination of the searing eldritch that Wandalor wielded to left the right side of its body bare of muscle and sinew and Thalin’s arrow that had found its mark in the side of the neck cutting the veins and arteries did devastating damage. Bokat the kimera was dead. The enormous cadaver fell partially on to Johan as the life force left it. Thalin slung his bow, ran to the aid of Johan, and attempted to dislodge his friend from the obvious carnage.
“The absolute one time we do not communicate in a fight is the time one of us has been truly hurt! Never again!” Darr shouted, to no one and everyone at the same time.
Wandalor looked at the kimera as it fell onto Johan, rising from his kneeling position and turning to see Gadlin in pain. “Do you mean Johan or Gadlin?” Wandalor took quick steps to Gadlin as his friend’s legs pumped in place and his body only managed to slump against the wall.
Incapacitated by the pain Johan thought to himself, Please do not close my eyes, must stay open, my body has given up my mind is still here and air still travels, do not close eyes.
“What are you talking about?” Darr turned his head. His gaze flew across the slaughter in the feeding area again. There he could see the tattered remains of people and the kills of an animal all mixed up with rough clothing. There were at least two heavy canvas bags, presumably carried by sailors. He didn’t see any serious weapons or armor of any kind. For an instant Darr was sure he had seen a pair of reptilian eyes in a chamber he had not noticed before. He shifted himself and faced the tail end of Bokat, and catching this glimpse off to his right, though not wanting to lose sight of his friends in need of his healing ways, he took steps in the direction of Wandalor.
Wandalor looked up from the wounded Gadlin and to Darr as he approached. “He needs you; I will put up a ward since we are vulnerable here.”
Darr looked over his shoulder to the area where he had seen the reptilian eyes and then back at Wandalor. “There is something in there, something big. Make your ward a strong one.”
Every breath Gadlin took seemed to be a totally new experience in this fantastic feeling of pain. It was exhausting. The not calling out in anguish was difficult. He began to shiver and the feeling of ice-cold water ran down his back, flowing into his armor that was holding his shattered limb. Good, Gadlin thought, shock will set in and ease some of the pain; soon, very soon. If I am boundlessly lucky I will pass out.
“I hope that doesn’t hurt as bad as it looks. It’s fine. Just rub some dirt on it,” Darr said sarcastically as he knelt next to Gadlin. He pulled out some herbs from Gadlin’s belt pouch, folded them together, broke the leaves to expose the nectar inside, and shoved the wad into Gadlin’s mouth before he picked up Gadlin’s hand and placed it on his shield.
Thalin looked at Bokat lying on the lower quarter of Johan. He knew instinctively that he was going to be unable to move the creature. Thalin began to summon up his own Eldritch. The dirt and detritus on the ground began to move to encircle Johan and part of the kimera. Thalin moved his hands palm down and concentrated, pulling the remaining energies from the kimera. The beast began to glow a light shade of amber. The energy came on in bands around Thalin’s forearms, adding to his physical power and strength. Thalin absorbed the ability and pushed Bokat off of Johan. As he pulled his friend from beneath the creature, he heard an audible gasp from Johan. Hope filled Thalin’s heart that his friend yet lived. However, Thalin saw the stinger of the scorpion tail, the telson, had dislodged itself from the kimera’s tail and was deep inside Johan’s leg. Thalin knew he would have to remove it. He quickly donned gloves, not out of any fear other than not wanting the stinger to nick him and he be poisoned as well. Thalin removed the stinger from Johan’s leg. Shifting his brain, emphasizing his Eldritch to that which he had taken from the death of Bokat, Thalin used his hands, with his eyes closed, seeing his friend’s body. Johan’s bones and muscle, the veins in the muscle
, his brain, his lungs, and all the systems were slowing down their functions. There was an odd yellow tinge to the inner things of Johan that shouldn’t be. Thalin knew his friend has been poisoned, and he would have to do something about it fast.
Johan’s heart still beat once every few seconds and his breath was light. Undetectable. However, his spirit was strong. Thalin was happy to discover that Johan’s mind was still working. He could feel the darkness seeping into Johan. The Eldritch encircling his friend was hued in maroon. Blood magic was not something one sees; it was a feeling, and Thalin was starting to feel ill due to the proximity to such Eldritch.
Wandalor began an incantation to invoke an Eldritch ward, “Holy Mother Yggdrasil, hallowed maker of the universe, connector of the nine realms. I ask with a troubled heart, show me and my men of stalwart heart mercy so I might exchange my sadness for joy. I beg this of you in your eternal light, oh god of gods. Absolve me with your almighty warmth. Help keep us beings of Midgard safe from beings of other realms. Please keep those of us here on this plane born of mothers and sons of fathers from being devoured by those unnatural beasts around us so we can worship you in our eternity.”
As the final syllable poured from his mouth the ground shifted slightly. Stones and pebbles began to turn over as a light blue wall erected itself from the earth with tiny, barely perceptible, mathematical equations that floated in the air. The wall stitched itself together into reality out of what would have seemed to be nothing to those who had either never seen it before or had no innate concept of Eldritch. Such was not the case of those who were awake or able to look around. Thalin felt the warmth and could better see by the light the wall was giving off. “Nice, Wand,” he said.
Darr, with all the gentleness of a heavy handed blacksmith, moved Gadlin from his position slumped against the wall to lying down on the cavern floor, his hand on Darr’s shield atop the holy symbol emblazoned on it. Gadlin cried out as the pain flared up again and every muscle in his body tensed. The muscles in his hand tightened once more over broken bones, the sharp edges cutting into him.
“Just give me another moment as I save your life, and then we can go back to talking shit about each other again,” Darr said to his friend. Gadlin’s lips moved though nothing recognizable came out, only random vowels and consonants. Darr moved to a kneeling position with his sword before him as an upright cross, so he could look at it and pray a healing prayer over Gadlin. “Lord of Light, I beseech You in this one’s name. Not for myself, only ever for others. For all who have stood true to the good of their communities. For all who have held strong against overwhelming opposition. To all those who have remained vigilant and stayed warm outside of Your glory, I pray You heal this warrior, who has in many ways and times aided Your servant.” As the last word fell from Darr’s lips he felt the presence of the healing. A golden light emanated from the terrain. First in the four cardinal directions and next in the four intermediate directions. Then a ring connected them. Next came a smaller ring inside that one, and one by one runes of the God of Light came into being. The golden light encompassed them both. Gadlin’s hand began to swell slightly as tissue reformed, then bones. His hand reformed in layers like lamallar, remodeling it and contouring the bits into their original form. The swelling subsided. The cuts and gashes sealed. The hand reformed to its true shape.
Darr looked up from his prayer to see the healing light flowing around his friend and uttered a prayer, “Thanks be to God.” Then he spoke to Gadlin. “Now, it is going to be a few hours until you have full strength in that hand, so be careful for a bit.”
Gadlin, no longer sick from the searing pain, felt the discomfort turn off like a torch put into a bucket of water.
Thalin shot up and looked over the body of Bokat. “We have to get out of here. Johan is down and not responsive. We need to get him back to town, out of here at the least. Anything! All I try to do here will be tainted by the death and desiccation all around us.” Fear filled his eyes, and he tried not to show it on his face.
The cave shifted and dust fell from above them, the back wall dropping a few feet. The air from the feeding chamber released the offending odor of the rotting meat and skin of the dead animals and sailors. The insects and feces of the carrion eaters that had come in to help the digestion of this pile of death added to the gross atmosphere. The constitutions of those inside, stressed to the ends of ability, began to move. Thalin lost control of his senses and reached down, grabbing his friend Johan and dragging him out of the cavern. Wandalor and Darr followed with Gadlin as the ground began to shudder again. The fallen energies from Bokat in their last remaining wisps escaped as the Eldritch left the creature’s body the cavern began to give way in earnest. The pillar fell back into place, as did every risen stone. Each area that had been an open space was now collapsed.
The five men escaped the collapsing cavern just in time. Thalin placed Johan on the ground, looking back at his friends who were not far behind him as the ground shifted, leaving little trace of what once had been here. Thalin, acting on Eldritch instinct, summoned up energies. His hands alight with blue energy, he placed them onto Darr as he came close. Then Thalin placed his hands on himself. He appeared to be emboldened by the act. Thalin lifted Johan onto his shoulders like a cross and ran back to the town of Blackweb.
Chapter Nineteen
The city of Cerulia was built in and surrounding an oasis of air that was truly a future-oriented curiosity. Its wonder was matched by the backdrop of clear blue skies which were the inside of an enormous air bubble. The circle footprint of the bubble helped shape the city into what became a grand layout of buildings, meadows, and life. It was, in the fullest and truest sense, an underwater continent. The entrance was guarded with a gate flanked by two tall towers. The carved docks from the rock walls were formed from the hardest coral and stone that shimmered like multi-colored pearls. A wall surrounded the city, though entrance took skill; and for land walkers took special Eldritch or equipment. The walls were constructed of red, white, blue, purple, and black rock, quarried from the sea floor.
The climate these skies brought was of great importance, and influential when it came to architectural designs. A vast majority of buildings was designed to take full advantage of the controlled climate, as more daring elements could be created when there was no worry about strong winds. The skyline was littered with modest skyscrapers, continuously evolving as new additions were constructed. Oval windows were glassed with thin crystal, floors sparkled with sheets of abalone shell, and roof shingles were made of layered sand dollars and other seashells.
Health and services were faultless in Cerulia. The king was a respected ruler because of the care of his citizens and residents. The systems of life there had attracted a lot of attention from outsiders. A few cultures tried to leave their mark not just on trade and relations, but also upon the city’s identity. They consistently failed. What historically was a city of little diversity had occasionally accepted unidimensional ideals, and it was this sense of legacy and security that united the eleven million happy people in Cerulia.
In the brilliant park of Cerulia covered with multi- colored flowers and surreal plants, a man walked among lush green fields as small clouds flew overhead and cast shadows on the ground. The dark shapes of whales, giant tuna,
and the wispy shapes of school fish danced around his feet. A young man, late in adolescence, walked three steps behind him. The youth stepped only where the older man stepped so as to not damage the crops any more than was necessary for the two to walk in the fields together.
The younger man finally spoke. “Lord Beckett, my king, may I ask you a question?”
The elder man stopped and turned to face the younger man. “Son, Seine, we are alone,” he said, and to drive his point home, he added, “No one is with us, so you may call me ‘Father’ or whatever you like when no one is around. When we are at court then you must show me such courtesy as king.” Speaking softly to the young man the king smiled.
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The younger man paused, pursed his lips, and searched for the right words. “Father, will you tell me again about the dragons, about how they created a land for us? It’s a tale I greatly enjoy.”
Beckett looked down at his son and gathered up the information in the words. “Do you really want to hear the tale, or do you just want to hear what I believe happened? Because I know that you can’t believe my ideas or my tales about how the world was created for us. I tell you what, I’ll propose ideas and you decide which one you want to believe. Afterwards, you can go to the library and breathe in the manuscripts that weren’t written by me. Nor did I transcribe them or change them in the way. They are what they were meant to be, to be read,” Lord Beckett said to his son.
“Father, do not hear me wrong. I am not at odds as to how are our protected area was created. I know that. I hear you and Mother speak of it often even though you don’t know that you do speak of it. Mother is a powerful sorcerer. I know that together, with your mentor, she created this magnificent...” He paused. “Pocket for us to live. I also know that it consumed much of the magic your mentor had in him. Mother does not speak of him often. I understand the sacrifices made for our people. All the citizens and I could not be more grateful. I know what is out there because I’ve read about it in the text. I know that you and many of the other elders have been out to that world. We are part of the world that I dare not visit and pray never visits us here. It is a world that we prepare for every day as though it were a plague.” He shook his head. “I have heard and I have read of many other nations that are inhabited by an undead menace that consumes everything in its path. That is the horror we must keep from destroying our sanctuary.” As he spoke, Seine turned from his father and gently stepped into his footprints. For a more dramatic effect, with his hands he motioned about the world.
The Travelers' Song Page 13
