Magic of Ruyn

by RG Long

  "So, you want me to kill the leader of an entire nation?" she asked boldly. "That's not going to cost a few coins."

  Not that it mattered much to the patrons of the Nest. They looked like the type of people who would either never leave the bar, or arrange an assassination themselves.

  Two rough looking men in the corner looked ready to murder the musician who played his instrument with the skill of a rock.

  Ealrin might have thanked them. He turned his attention back to his drinking partner and leaned his elbows on the slick counter.

  "Not just the leader of a nation. He's a mad man. If he gets his way, the entire continent will be rid of dwarves, elves, and all other manner of things that aren't man."

  Silverwolf took another drink, but said nothing.

  "Doesn't that seem like an injustice to you?" Ealrin said after a few moments, his words becoming looser with the influence of a little drink.

  "Murder is also an injustice, is it not?" she responded, looking into her now empty cup.

  "Don't you kill for a living?" Ealrin asked, feeling a bit too comfortable speaking.

  Her movements were lightning fast. His own reaction was slowed by the drink and by weariness. Ealrin had not expected retaliation.

  The knife pressed to his throat reminded him the nature of those who murder for money.

  Silverwolf looked him hard in the eye.

  "Never for a moment think," she said through gritted teeth. "That I kill needlessly."

  She let the dagger fall from his neck and put it back into a hidden sheath, just below her wrist. The blade clicked back into place and her sleeve fell over it, concealing the blade once more.

  "Take a moment to think about all the ways a girl might earn a living with no family to support her. Or rather, how others would earn a living off of her. I don't think I chose the path that is the darkest I could have trod."

  She spoke without looking at Ealrin. Her words were blunt.

  Ealrin could imagine the horrors someone would have to face as a young girl on her own. But to choose to become an assassin? Surely there was a reason she walked that path.

  "You killed Verde without much care to who he was," Ealrin said, not knowing how to respond to her previous statement.

  "The money was there," she answered promptly. "Morals are one thing. Putting food in my belly sometimes means ignoring the laws I try to abide by."

  "And what are those?" Ealrin asked.

  The bartender came by and took both of their mugs. He refilled Silverwolf's, but Ealrin's he began to clean. It seemed he could tell who had money and who lacked. Silverwolf was apparently doing well for herself, even though she claimed not to kill often.

  "I kill for those with just cause," she answered. "I will take action when none has been taken in defense of the powerless. I do not kill mindlessly. Even the man you speak of. My contract was not solely for the coins," she smiled as she took another sip of her drink. "Though I must say that I'll have to make very few contracts to pay off my debts after I collect on him."

  "And what were the terms you were under for him?" Ealrin asked.

  She shook her head.

  "I don't discuss my contracts with other potential clients," she said as she threw a few coins onto the bar. "Though, from the sound of it, you won't actually become a client at all."

  She stood and began to walk to the door.

  "Hey!" Ealrin said as he walked after her. "You haven't even heard me out."

  Opening the door to the hallway, she looked back at him.

  "You have very few coins in your pocket and a vendetta with the leader of an entire nation. I can't take on such an offer to kill him. What would I gain? Notoriety, perhaps. Probably a death sentence of my own. Not to mention the fact that he'll probably be surrounded by his guards day and night. Then there are the travel expenses of getting to the Southern Republic. What do you expect? For me to walk there?"

  They walked towards the dark hallway. Floorboards creaked under their feet. Small oil lanterns that hung from the wall every few steps lit the way. She stopped at a solid oak door in the hall and turned around to face him.

  "Ealrin Belouve, I cannot offer you my services. Not unless you can produce a mountain of gold or a very good reason for me to place my life on the line for people I've never met."

  She began to turn and enter her door.

  "That sounds exactly the opposite of what you said earlier," he countered. "What about helping the powerless? Elves and dwarves are being killed by the thousands. You could stop it by killing this one madman!"

  "Ah," she said as she turned and leaned her back against the door. "But there's the problem that you've not thought through and that I have seen on many occasions. If you kill one lunatic king, who's to say another twice as crazy and bloodthirsty won't take his place? What if the next one is worse than this Androlion fellow?"

  She opened the door and turned to walk inside.

  "I leave for Beaton as soon as the sun rises tomorrow, snow or not," she said over her shoulder. "That's where I'll collect."

  She turned back to look at Ealrin.

  "If, by the time I collect, you've come up with either the money or a good enough reason, I'll consider your job."

  With that, she shut the door in Ealrin's face.

  For a moment he stared at the old wooden door, not knowing what to do.

  He turned and, rather than walk back down the hall towards the terrible sounds of an unpracticed musician, he found his way to the meager room he had rented for the last few days, and lay upon his bed.

  What was the reason he wanted Androlion dead? Was it because many of his friends had died in repelling his armies? Was it because he truly believed Androlion was wrong? And would killing him undo the wrong he had wrought upon the continent?

  And why was he so convicted about the fate of this land?

  There was something that told him that in fighting this war for Ruyn, he would learn something about himself and who he was.

  His mind continued to wonder until he eventually drifted off to sleep.

  MORNING BROUGHT NO new answers, save for the fact that the snow had stopped falling and that he would be heading back to Beaton after being gone for a week.

  His gear was gathered and packed before the second sun rose over the horizon.

  Ealrin made his way downstairs and saw that he was the only patron awake at the early hour. The foyer was deserted, save for the pudgy owner of the inn. He was writing in his books and sorting through a small pile of coins.

  "Silverwolf told me to tell you she left," Saldrao told him without looking up. He swiped a few coins into a pouch and fastened it.

  "She's headed south," he said as he looked up, a crass smile on his face. "You'd better run."

  He let out a curse and then flew out of the door.

  AFTER A SOLID HOUR of jogging with his pack, Ealrin was not only exhausted, but he was livid.

  If this was how Silverwolf operated, perhaps he didn't want her services.

  Except that he had no other plan to end the war quickly other than by taking out Androlion before he could do more damage to the continent.

  Over the horizon, through the white powder that blanketed the ground, Ealrin saw a lone figure trekking up ahead of him.

  The only thing that gave the figure away was the shadow it made on the snow. Otherwise, it blended in with the white around it perfectly.

  As if it were covered in white itself.

  Ealrin knew he had found his wolf.

  He ran up next to her, making sure to stay a safe distance until she acknowledged him.

  His eyes had seen first hand how well she threw a dagger.

  Less and less snow crunched beneath his feet as Ealrin followed her. Soon only dirt and rocks padded his path. When noon came, Silverwolf stopped and sat upon on a rock. She took off her pack and laid Holve's spear, which she had been carrying with her, beside her on the ground.

  Ealrin approached her cautiously.


  "I'm not going to randomly kill anyone who walks next to me," she said as he neared her.

  He wasn't quite convinced.

  "I didn't want to give you any reason to change your mind," he replied as he took off his pack. In it, he found some bread wrapped in a cloth and a few pieces of dried meat. A fine enough lunch.

  After taking a bite of both, he noticed that Silverwolf wasn't eating. She was only watching the countryside.

  "Would you care for a bite?" he offered, holding out the bread to her.

  She sniffed at it.

  "I'll get my own, thanks," she said stiffly.

  Ealrin chewed a moment before swallowing. He repacked his food into his bag and shouldered it again.

  "Can't afford food?" he asked plainly.

  She stared hard at him, and then got up and stomped off in a southern direction, towards Beaton.

  For a time he just walked silently beside her, not wanting to annoy her any further.

  Strange, he thought, I thought she'd have money to burn.

  Being an assassin must not pay as well, or at least as often, as he thought.

  They continued on their way until the suns burned low in the sky and the night sky began to show stars above.

  "Might be a good time to stop for the night," Ealrin suggested.

  Silverwolf laughed out.

  She looked at him with a devilish smirk.

  "Ealrin, we just met. I'm not sleeping anywhere near you," she said with a grin. "Plus I doubt you'd sleep soundly next to a professional killer."

  He honestly hadn't given that much thought.

  "I just thought..." he trailed off.

  Well now he doubted a lot of ideas that came to him. Would he be safe to sleep and allow her to stand guard? Or would she trust him to watch while she slept? That was unlikely.

  "Walking through the night is beginning to sound like a better plan, hmm?" she teased.

  Not really, he thought.

  For an assassin, she certainly didn't mind being humorous.

  "You can sleep all you want, Ealrin," she told him. "I won't rest much anyway."

  "And can I trust that you'll not slit my throat and take my coins?" he asked her.

  A dagger fell from her wrist into her hand. She threw it into the air and caught it with her other hand, while putting Holve's spear into a holder and drawing out her own sword.

  She assumed a position of attack in Ealrin's direction.

  "I could have killed you at any point today," she said as she wielded both weapons expertly. "Plus, you just might come up with the coins to pay me to do your job. It'd be bad business to kill a potential client this early in the game."

  She sheathed the sword and replaced the dagger. The spear, she leaned against as a walking stick. It seemed a terribly mundane use for such an ornate weapon.

  "But make any advance on me in the night," she said in a tone that held none of her previous mirth. "And I will enjoy making you bleed."

  It didn't do much to ease his mind, but with that in mind, they could at least stop for the night.

  THEIR CAMP WAS QUIET. Ealrin made a small fire, not fearing any who traveled the road. Indeed, they had been the only travelers he had seen all day.

  As he warmed his hands by the fire, he looked over at Silverwolf as she adjusted her pack and her cloak. For a time, she simply admired the spear Ealrin knew belonged to Holve. He was still working out why he wanted to get that back from her.

  How he was going to do that, however, he didn't know.

  She certainly seemed like a mysterious character. But that didn't mean she didn't have a history.

  Ealrin had nearly been all over the entire continent and had not once found anyone who recognized him or knew him from before he lost his memory.

  Perhaps there was someone who would call her friend?

  "How does one choose to become an assassin?" he asked her as he sat back from the fire, taking out another piece of dried meat to eat.

  "It was the best of any alternative I could find," she said. "I told you. Girls don't get much of a break when they don't have anyone to support them. I wanted to take control of my own life."

  "Yes, but, I suppose I mean, what's your story?" he asked.

  She looked into the fire for a moment, and then at Ealrin.

  "You're a strange one," she said. "First you're worried that I'm going to slit your throat, now you want my personal history?"

  He chuckled. It did sound odd.

  "Well," he began. "I guess I like to give people the benefit of the doubt..."

  A ghostly howl rang out through the night and he stood.

  So did Silverwolf.

  "That's not good," she said.

  "Wolves?" Ealrin asked, drawing his short blade. Despite the cold, it felt warm in his hand.

  "Worse," she answered as she drew her own sword and dagger. With one, she pointed towards the west.

  Four purple flames rose over the horizon.

  36: Hounds of the Plains

  "What do we do?" Ealrin asked.

  "Well mister 'I had to light a fire,'" she said with measured sarcasm. "We wait for them to come get us."

  He looked sideways at her, irritated. Mostly because he knew she was right.

  The flames came nearer. The demons were running full speed at them and their fire.

  Ealrin stood ready with his sword drawn. Silverwolf beside him, with dagger and sword, prepared to engage.

  As the purple flames neared, they slowed into a steady approach. Ealrin heard a dark and unearthly growl.

  "Dogs with scales," Silverwolf said under her breath, just as the four demons came into their view. "Pleasant."

  The eyes of each beast were red in the firelight. Or perhaps they were actually red, Ealrin thought.

  Slowly, they began to circle them. Ealrin followed two to one side of the fire, while Silverwolf tracked the others.

  "Count of three?" Ealrin asked, staring hard into the eyes of one of the demon hounds. Its jaw was open and saliva poured from its mouth, even as the purple flames around it burned bright with unnatural light.

  "Suit yourself," he heard her respond, followed by the whip of air as a dagger flew from her hand.

  So much for teamwork, Ealrin thought.

  At Silverwolf's swift motion, the one staring him down pounced. He responded by crouching and driving his sword forward. The blade bit into the beast's flesh. Then Ealrin felt a sting of pain as its massive claws scratched his shoulder. He managed to throw the thing from him with a powerful kick.

  His sword came loose, however, when the demon kicked at his hand. The blade flew out of reach and Ealrin found himself weaponless as he stood and faced the second demon prowling near. The first was howling in pain and thrashing about just beyond the light of the campfire.

  Frantically searching the ground for a rock or a stick to defend himself with, Ealrin found something much better: Holve's spear. He grabbed it up and pointed it at the demon.

  The tip of the spear glowed with a bright white light and the hound howled at it, pawing the air in a rage.

  It leapt towards Ealrin, who instinctively fell back to the ground with the tip pointed at the beast.

  As the demon landed on the spear, its body burst into a brilliant white light and it let out an ear splitting scream.

  Then it burst into a thousand smoking pieces.

  The blast extinguished the fire, casting them all into darkness.

  Ealrin scrambled to his feet as quickly as he could; ready to attack the next hound. Instead of another pouncing demon, however, he saw two retreating onto the plains.

  Another lay dead at Silverwolf's feet. Her left hand was bleeding, but other than that, she looked unharmed.

  She looked at Ealrin, then down at the spear.

  "What happened with that thing?" she asked, as she cut a strip of cloth to tie around her hand and stop the blood flowing down her arm.

  Ealrin held the firm wood in his hands. It vibrated ever so softly.

/>   He looked at the tip as the light from it began to fade and then back to Silverwolf.

  "I don't know."

  THEY BOTH DECIDED SLEEP was pointless after that. After dressing their wounds, they walked on.

  The moon lit their path as they headed south.

  Ealrin carried the spear for now, and Silverwolf hadn't yet argued against it.

  Night sounds filled the air. An owl screeched after it dove to catch a meal. Bats filled the air for a moment, searching for their own food. Crickets and other insects chirped to the stars.

  Neither of them spoke for a long time as they walked.

  Silverwolf, however, looked intently at the spear in Ealrin's hand.

  "So, is it Rimstone in the tip?" she asked after a long time. "There seems to be something magic about that thing," she said.

  "It belonged to a friend," Ealrin answered. "I don't know much about it, other than I've seen it defeat a demon before."

  "That would have been useful information before we took on those hounds," Silverwolf retorted.

  "I didn't remember until just then," he replied.

  It was true.

  He was more worried about surviving.

  Holve hadn't revealed that there was anything special about his spear. Ealrin only knew that it was a fine weapon. He hadn't seen its equal since arriving on Ruyn.

  Still, she was right again.

  And next time, Ealrin planned to put the spear to good use before getting his shoulder torn up.

  His wound burned as they walked. It throbbed with every beat of his heart. The demon's claws had both cut into his skin and burned his flesh. The tear was not pleasant to look at.

  He tried not to think about it.

  After several hours of walking, the first sun began to peak over the horizon.

  As it cast its light, they were able to see their first glimpses of the northern side of the city of Beaton.

  The sight stopped them both in their tracks.

  "What in the..." Ealrin started to say.

  Silverwolf cut him off.

  "Oh," she said. "If my client is dead, I am going to murder someone."

  The City of Beaton was in flames.