Skipping towards Trinity, the immortal frowns when Sir Harbiss steps in her way and brandishes his spear. She is about to kill the man when her old friend shakes her head and steps forward to defend the knight. Playfully smacking the weapon from side to side, Yola tries to think of a way to get the warrior out of her path. Whenever she steps to the side, he adjusts his stance and remains a stubborn, yet easily squishable, obstacle. To satisfy a loud rumble in her stomach, the former goddess pulls a salad out from behind her back and swallows the entire thing in one gulp in the hopes of intimidating the old man. Having failed to make him even flinch, Yola clicks her tongue and reaches out to grab the weapon. She fuses his gauntlets to the wooden shaft before flipping him over her shoulder. Sir Harbiss lands against a hill that gives beneath the impact and swallows him up to his neck. Enjoying the sound that the gelatinous earth makes, the immortal has the ground do the same to the entire army.
“Like cabbages, but they aren’t as good at conversations,” Yola says, clapping her hands with glee. The woman is sent tumbling to the ground when a lightning whip takes her legs out from underneath her. “Preemptive strikes are so mean. I came here with a new deal that I’m sure you will agree too. Wait, I forgot to do something when I arrived. That guy you were with told me to make a scene, but then I said . . . who are all these people?”
“They’re relatives and friends of the people I’ve killed,” Trinity answers while moving away from the chasm. Touching her side, she creates magical bandages to keep her ribs in place, the pressure causing her to take in a sucking breath. “To be honest, I’m starting to think that this army should be bigger. Anyway, I’m to be executed for my crimes. Guess this is what I get for trying to follow a dark master and be a hero for my people at the same time. Can’t have things both ways.”
“None of that makes any sense,” the immortal claims as she glides over to the trapped knight. Sticking to the hill, she sits in front of his face and bends over far enough that their noses touch. “Trinity is a hero. Not to you, but to the chaos elves. She’s suffered a lot and had to do horrible things to keep them alive. You don’t know how bad it was before she came about. Their children were worked to the bone and their elderly were turned into birthday cakes whenever one of us was hungry. By the way, that second part was all me. Anyway, that all changed when Trinity took the throne and made the rest of us treat the chaos elves like living things. Why would you punish her for that?”
“Because I killed their loved ones, Yola.”
“Oh, I guess that makes sense.”
“I’m still not going to let you eat me.”
“But I brought salad and wine this time!”
“Please stop this silliness and help me instead.”
“I would, but . . . I was told I couldn’t because of something else that’s going to happen.”
“Who told you that?”
“Not allowed to say, but I got the message on my way here. Sorry.”
Growing swords from her fingers, Yola leaps off the hill and barrels toward Trinity, who dives to the side at the last moment. With the army stuck in the ground and unable to leave the area, the channeler is forced to hold back her power. The force blast hits with a dull whump and pushes the immortal back a few feet, but leaves very little damage. Touching a fresh divot in her skin, Yola swings her hair like a scythe that transforms into a wall of seawater. Already ducking the original attack, Trinity is unable to avoid the wave that knocks her into the pit. She catches the edge and swings her legs away from the natural spikes before a fresh blast hits her from above. Barely able to hold on, the attack leaves her with seaweed in her ebony hair and she can feel a starfish stuck to the back of her neck. Trinity is about to climb up when she feels something rise out of the earth and bite into her hand. With a yelp of pain, she throws several punches at Yola’s face, which becomes as malleable as clay. Rising from the ground, the immortal growls and snarls while trying to get a solid grip on the chaos elf’s fingers with her teeth.
A gurgling causes the two women to pause and look into the pit where the shadows are swirling among the jagged stones. Two black tentacles lance out of the ground and wrap around Yola’s waist, the ooze-dripping projections turning silver at the taste of her magic. Attracted to the stronger energy, the aura syphon yanks the immortal into its slime-covered maw and becomes a metallic beast. With its armored skin, the camouflaged predator is now visible and resembles a sea anemone with the body of a beetle. The jagged rocks are fused to the animal’s exoskeleton and there are six jointed legs that help it scurry out of the pit. Standing over Trinity, the creature opens a faint crease on its body to reveal a bulbous eye with a star-shaped pupil. It pauses to shove a few tentacles into its mouth and hit Yola with pulses of electricity to stop her from struggling. It changes from silver to gold when she attempts to break free, her efforts being quickly drained by the monster.
“Let the crazy woman go before you get killed,” Trinity whispers to the aura syphon. She creates a fireball in the hopes of getting its mouth open, but her spell is ignored. “No reason to have a snack when you have an eternal meal in your belly. Maybe we can have a trade. Can’t believe I’m trying to bargain with this thing. Well, I gave you a chance, so I’m going to blow you up before things get worse. Hope you heard that Yola and are bracing yourself.”
The beast gurgles before releasing a blast of sticky strands that lock Trinity in place. Instead of going after the trapped chaos elf, the creature turns its attention to the helpless army. Having had its fill of magic, the aura syphon is ready to gorge on fresh meat and opens a second mouth that is filled with knife-like teeth. Heading for Sir Harbiss, it is stopped when a chunk of earth erupts beneath it and flips it back into the pit. Unsure of where the attack came from, the aura syphon leaps out and reveals several eye stalks that search for an unseen enemy. A cutting wind lops off half of the projections, but Yola’s potent energy revives them and protects the crystalline armor plates. When the spell comes back around, it bounces off the new defense and bursts against a hill. Blasts of fire strike the beast from behind, so it sprouts a fan-shaped tail of water that douses the flames.
Looking around, the aura syphon stops when it sees that Trinity is nowhere to be seen and there is a hole where she once stood. Spikes grow from the predator’s belly and it slams against the ground in the hopes of impaling the chaos elf. The hiss of escaping gas is heard an instant before an explosion sends the shrieking animal into the sky. Careening towards a solitary cloud that is very low to the ground, the beast catches the scent of an aura that revives the one currently in its gut. Passing through the cloud, it finds its legs caught in a net that runs down to where Trinity is hiding behind a hill. With enhanced strength, the channeler slams the aura syphon into the ground and delivers a leaping stomp to its soft upper body. Instead of ejecting Yola, the creature opens its skin to swallow the chaos elf’s leg up the knee.
“Fine. Backup plan it is,” Trinity mutters, synching her aura to that of the imprisoned immortal.
Releasing as much magic as she can without killing herself, the channeler creates a power surge within the aura syphon. Unable to absorb or redirect so much energy at once, the predator tries to reject the grinning chaos elf. Plunging her fingers into its flesh, Trinity refuses to be thrown off and continues her assault. Blisters appear on the hard exoskeleton and the metallic color flakes off to reveal the natural black of the tentacles. Without warning, the gold returns and the animal explodes with enough force to collapse the ground. Before she can escape, the channeler falls into the pit and is buried beneath the icy dirt.
*****
“I assume you get this a lot, but am I dead?” Trinity asks, her eyes opening to the sight of Ambrosine. Groggy and weak, she lets the beautiful Chaos Elf Goddess sit her up in the softest bed that she has ever touched. “I’m having trouble focusing on the room. Things are fading in and out of focus like the picture over there and what I think is a vase. What’s going on?”
�
�That would be my doing,” Ambrosine admits while caressing her follower’s cheek. A trail of sparkles is left by her fingers, the magic seeping into the mortal’s skin. “You nearly died, but a friend dug you out. Now, you are being tended to. I will let you discover all the details when you wake up. They are wasting healing spells since they do not know I am keeping you in a coma, so we can speak for a few minutes.”
“Please tell me you aren’t going to warn me about Yola because you’re way too late with that,” the channeler teases with a friendly smile. A wave of heat makes her sweat and she is shocked to see that the deity is angry. “I’m sorry for acting familiar with you. Our past encounters have been more casual, so I thought this would be the same. Please don’t take what I said as an insult, Lady of Shayd.”
Ambrosine takes a deep breath, which shrinks the room until she exhales a breeze that smells of chocolate. “That is more your title than mine. The Law of Influence means I cannot help our people, which is why I need you to stay alive. Yola is your friend and I know you do not want to hurt her, but she cannot win. Your death would be a severe blow to our people and your daughter is too young to fill the void. More aggressive chaos elves could take power and undo everything you have fought to create. I am here to tell you to stop being nice to Yola and put her down for good. She is not a goddess any more, which means you can defeat her.”
“Tell me why she’s after me,” Trinity requests, her voice more forceful than she intended. A distant echo warns her that time is running out and her own rage grows when the goddess remains silent. “Do you think Yola was the only one who didn’t have any friends until I came along? Back then, chaos elf children didn’t get close to others because death was a daily occurrence and cared little about age. Why have a best friend when you or they can get eaten by a demon in the morning? I changed that, but only when I took the throne. I never had friends either, Ambrosine. Just teachers, protectors, followers, and worshippers until I met Yola. If you want our people to be accepted then you need to let me follow my heart. I will fend her off at every turn, but I refuse to kill her.”
“Even if you have no choice?”
“Unlike when I worked for the Baron, I will always have a choice.”
“She is a threat to you, the prophecy, and Windemere.”
“Not from what I saw. If she is then it isn’t intentional.”
“You refuse to heed my warning?”
“I’m sorry, Ambrosine, but I can’t put my friend down like a rabid animal.”
“Very well. Have it your way and try to prove me wrong.”
With a clap from Ambrosine, the room melts away and a jolt of pain causes Trinity to jump to her feet. A wave of vertigo drives the chaos elf to her hands and knees where she dry heaves onto the cold ground. She can see that half of her left pant leg is gone, a blue shimmer on the edge stopping her from repairing the damage. Trinity is faintly aware of warm hands touching her back and a layer of healing magic seeping into her muscles. It takes a few minutes for her to stand up without feeling queasy and even longer to take a step, which is when she realizes the crowd that has gathered around her.
No longer stuck in the ground, all of the warriors are covered in dirt that falls out of their clothes when they move. Their faces hold no anger or hate for the prisoner like they did before, but Trinity does not see any concern either. Only Sir Harbiss appears worried, the knight casually pouring dirt out of his armor while watching the healers. Spotting Matilda limping through the crowd, the chaos elf is surprised to see her wave and assumes the motion is for someone else. Scanning the quiet crowd, she cannot figure out who it could be or why nobody has made a move towards her. A firm hand on her arm causes her to jump out of the elderly priest’s grip, the Elven woman startled just as much as Trinity.
“What’s going on and where is Yola?” the channeler asks, the silence making her skin crawl. Backing away, she trips over Sir Harbiss’s spear and lands butt-first on the ground next to him. “I remember an explosion and getting buried. Since it’s after dawn, I must have been out for at least eight hours. Did she do something to you?”
“We talked about you,” the knight answers while the others sit. Only the guards on the edge of the crowd remain standing, many of them keeping an eye on the pit. “Yola Biggs said that it wouldn’t be right to eat you after you saved her life. She wanted us to tell you that she will try again another day and for you to . . . bathe in your favorite sauce. I’m not going to pretend to understand that, but this has been a bizarre night. You and the former Chaos Goddess proved to be nothing like we expected. That monster could have eaten us and allowed you to return to your journey. I saw it heading towards me and how you reacted. Yola said that you knew she would eventually get free, which means you stayed to fight for us. Why?”
“Actually, I didn’t know if Yola could survive that since she’s no longer a goddess,” Trinity answers with a wry smirk. Shaking dirt from her hair, she pulls a bug off her scalp and shudders at how it resembles the larger beast. “I won’t lie and say the thought of running away didn’t cross my mind. Leaving would have removed all of you from my path, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. After hearing all of your stories, I feel like I’ve done enough to all of you and letting you die would probably pass the pain onto someone else. The cycle would only continue instead of ending like it should.”
“There is something that we should have done long ago,” Sir Harbiss whispers while putting his armor aside. Handing his spear to the chaos elf, he bows his head in apology and the others follow his example. “Our anger and pain prevented us from asking to hear your story. There have always been rumors that the chaos elves were slaves to a dark master. I can’t stop thinking about what Yola said before the fight. Please share the truth with us.”
“It won’t erase what I did or remove your pain.”
“Perhaps, but it may help us move on.”
Accepting a cup of water from a one-eared orc, Trinity climbs onto a nearby rock to help everyone see her. She takes two long sips of her drink while looking over the faces that are ready to hear her words. Catching a chuckle in her throat, the chaos elf remembers doing the same in Stonehelm, but this time she is alone. The thought of having Timoran backing her up and the sight of all of her people watching gives her some strength, but it comes with a sense of loneliness. Reacting to the channeler’s nervousness, the tracking spell she placed on Quail activates and she hears him arguing with the Lich. Wanting to get back to her companions and knowing people are depending on her, Trinity straightens her back and enhances her voice to make sure everyone can hear her.
“I can’t deny that my people have acted as assassins, thieves, and menaces to the rest of Windemere. We’ve been like that since the Great Cataclysm,” she explains, her hands shaking enough to spill her drink. Putting the cup down, she does her best to keep her twitchy arms in place, but every glance at a weapon makes her sweat. “Long ago, a man came from the Chaos Void and enslaved us to do his bidding. We were expendable pawns that he casually sent to our deaths and even executed as entertainment, which is what I tried to change once I took the throne. My choices were either to lead my people and do what he asked or be replaced by someone with no desire to change our fate. This man agreed to my demands when I completed missions, so I kept working for him. Until I began to fail because I met a champion who was stronger . . . and better than me. He sent my people and me on a suicide mission against the Snow Tiger Tribe. I failed again, but our enemies took mercy on us and helped us hide from our former master. My goal now is to work with the champions because that will save the people I left behind and give Shayd back to us. With this man gone, the chaos elves will have no reason to be the enemies of Windemere’s other races.” Trinity is about to step down when she thinks of something else to say and clumsily sits back down on the boulder. “Forgot to mention, I’m actually working on getting some ancient objects that will help the champions succeed. Without these items, they’ll be killed and the rest of Wind
emere will know what nightmare my people have been living for centuries.”
Whispers ripple through the crowd, some of them angry and others full of fear. Eyeing Sir Harbiss, Trinity notices that he is not as confident as he was when they first met. Being within a few steps of the knight, she can see that his shoulders are sagging slightly and his tongue quickly darts out to lick his dry lips. Taking a seat on the boulder, the chaos elf looks for signs of distress in the other warriors. Her scan is met by a sea of twitchy eyes and restless fingers, which she unintentionally imitates until she becomes aware of her movements and gets herself under control. The temptation to use a calming spell nearly wins, but she knows such an act might startle the more anxious of the group. With nothing else to do, Trinity folds her legs and patiently waits for somebody to speak.
“How many loved ones have you lost?” a young archer asks, inching toward the quiet chaos elf. The girl cannot be much older than fifteen, but her face looks worn from years of stress. “If you lost anyone that you cared about then you should know how we feel. Why would you make other people suffer from something that you have felt?”
“Those are two difficult questions,” Trinity replies, tensing when the entire crowd moves closer to her. Hugging her knees, the channeler takes a shuddering breath and avoids eye contact with the girl. “You might not believe me, but I care about all of my people. The loss of any of them has hurt me and I have lists of the fallen in order to make a memorial when we reclaim our land. The chaos elves are bound by centuries of torment and a shared desire to one day live in the light. As far as making people suffer like me, I never let myself think about it until recently. The job of an assassin is to kill the target, so considering that you could hurt others will only get in the way. I know that isn’t a nice answer, but that’s the unfortunate truth. Now, I have a question for you. What are you going to do about me, Sir Harbiss?”
Path of the Traitors Page 10