Path of the Traitors

by Charles E Yallowitz

  The channeler readies a cushioning spell and is about to cast it when a skeletal monstrosity emerges from the smoke. Catching the women in its toucan-like beak, the winged creature soars out of the way of falling debris. It passes through a collection of melting offices, but is forced to turn around by a wall of lightning exploding from the moat. Returning to the shaft, the construct flies towards the sky and veers into a water-filled chamber before a geyser of raw magic bursts from below. The creature’s bones rearrange themselves to transform it into a skeletal whale that crashes through the outer wall. Tumbling out of the Founder Complex, the beast’s tail hooks onto the building and the corpse turns into a slide that stretches to the ground. Depositing Altia and Trinity on the other side of the moat, the construct dissolves into dust, which swirls into the clouds.

  “It appears eating Stephen made me stronger than ever,” the Lich announces as he rises from the trampled dirt. His eyes return to Nimby’s shade of brown, the necrocaster willingly giving up most of his control. “Happy to see that you still have the crests. I’d ask where Quail is, but I don’t think we have time for sad tales. Ashkeep is about to live up to part of its name, so we need to get out of here.”

  “Do you know what’s going on?” Trinity asks, delivering an energizing spell to Altia. She magically forces the glass shards from her body as she follows the Lich. “They said someone is attacking and they’re obviously powerful. No idea if they’re friend or foe, so please share any information you have, Tyler.”

  “We just got here,” Nimby points out while his boney arm waves through the air. Two skeletal oxen burst from the ground along with a cart that fuses to their bodies. “All I know is that it’s a massacre, which one usually doesn’t want to stick around for. Let’s get out of here and . . . are you okay, Altia?”

  The elf remains staring at the sky, her eyes glazed and tinted purple. “They have been unleashed by her. Receptacles have no loyalty. All they do is follow orders and they have been told to destroy all life. Yola made a mistake with these. Now, everyone will suffer.”

  *****

  The flaming statue slams into the shield spell that protects the cart, which still shatters from the vibrations. While the skeletal oxen charge down the street, the riders are sent rolling across the cobblestones. Trinity scrambles toward Altia, who is lying motionless with a piece of wood stuck in her thigh. Not far away, Nimby flips to his feet and tosses the broken reins over his shoulder. The halfling is about to join the others when he hears clanking footsteps coming from behind him. He draws his shortsword and spins in time to deflect a spear that thuds into the solid ground. Platemail dripping with blood, Sir Harbiss continues his charge to deliver a kick to Nimby’s chest with an unexpected amount of power. The thief’s body cracks the building and he slides to his feet, leaving him with an ache along his spine.

  “What’s going on here, Reginald?” Trinity asks as she stands in front of her friends. She attempts to erect another barrier, but finds her magic unresponsive. “Tell me why you’re doing this. Is Yola controlling you?”

  “Our orders are to kill all who threaten Queen Trinity,” the knight declares, advancing with fluid steps. His spear moves from one person to the other while sweat dribbles down his wrinkled brow. “The three of you keep secrets from her, which is dangerous. You must be destroyed before you harm her. The citizens of Ashkeep must die for allying with the Baron who wishes to kill all traitors. Queen Trinity may be a threat to herself, so she must be eliminated for her own good. Those are what our creator has demanded.”

  “That crazy woman turned him into a flawed receptacle,” the Lich states while Nimby sprints at Sir Harbiss. Coating his host’s weapon in slime, the necrocaster curses at how the trap spell is absorbed by the warrior. “This is why I prefer using golems and undead. You can give them simple orders without causing confusion. We need to get out of here since she must have removed the auras and spirits of the entire army. They’ve even been enhanced since I don’t remember any of their casters having this type of power. Blast him and run!”

  “I’m trying!” Trinity snaps, her hand out in an attempt to hurl a spell. A searing pain tears through her mind, driving the channeler to her knees. “I can’t do anything. All I feel is agony and . . . despair. Make it stop!”

  Sir Harbiss smacks the chaos elf to the ground with his spear and presses the point against her chest. “That is what we once felt. Yola freed us from our suffering, but she let us keep it to share with you. You will never hurt us or yourself again, Queen Trinity. Our torture has gone on long enough and it is time you truly understood our pain. Stories can only tell you so much, but this gift reveals the truth.”

  The knight is driven back when Altia’s whip strikes him in the face and leaves an ooze-seeping cut along his nose. Harbiss is about to hurl his spear at the injured elf when Nimby pounces from a second story window ledge. The halfling’s shortsword drives into the man’s shoulder, the durable blade piercing the mundane armor. Flipping over the warrior, the thief yanks his weapon free and swings at his opponent’s side. With a slight adjustment, the tip of his shortsword slices through a barely visible crease in the metal. Pinpointing all of the dented platemail’s weak points, Nimby rolls and flips around to stab into each one. Too fast for the knight, it takes no more than a minute for the halfling to reduce the armor to a pile of pieces at their owner’s feet. When Harbiss spins around and attempts a sluggish jab, Nimby hops onto the long weapon and cleanly slices off the man’s head. An ungodly howl erupts from the damaged receptacle and the sound is repeated across Ashkeep. When the echoing noises stop, the city is plunged into an eerie silence that twists the travelers’ stomachs.

  “I think we made things worse,” the Lich mutters while he helps Trinity to her feet. He tries to pull the chaos elf along, but she frees herself and heads for Altia. “She lost consciousness again, so leave her. I don’t like the idea of it either after all of her help, but dragging that woman along will get the rest of us killed. There are more important things than friendship right now.”

  “He’s right,” Altia whispers, her eyes fluttering open. Yanking the wood from her leg, the elf crawls toward an open doorway and uses the frame to stand. “Looks like Cessia has it out for me today. You two get to Gaia and I’ll hold the receptacles off. Just tell Quail that I love him and I’m sorry we couldn’t be together. He can blame me for it if he wants because I definitely screwed things up. Let my guard down far too often since I met all of you.”

  “Tell him yourself,” Trinity states before tossing the crests to Nimby. Waving the halfling away, she puts a hand on Altia to make magical bandages on her wounds and create a fake arm composed of violet energy. “I’m not needed to set the crests and you can get there faster. Thank you for saving us, Tyler and Nimby, but you’re the only ones who can finish this. Don’t think I forgot that a Lich can travel through dirt as quickly as a dragon can fly. No arguing because I need as much time as I can get to bring Altia to Quail. Even if you’re going to die, he deserves a chance to say good-bye. Why are you two still here? Get moving!”

  Refusing to abandon his friends, Nimby is about to argue when the Lich takes over his legs and sprints for a nearby garden. Receptacles rush into the street as the necrocaster dives into the earth and vanishes, his departure leaving behind a small swirl in the dirt. Unable to attack without setting off Yola’s defensive magic, Trinity leads Altia into the nearest house and coats the outside with a prismatic barrier. Any enemies that touch the walls are spun around and sent wandering for half a minute before they regain their senses. Hurrying to the second story, the channeler looks out to see that most of the citizens have been killed and turned into receptacles by the invading army. With so few targets left, most of the empty husks have gathered around the protected house and scream for Altia to be sent out.

  “If we get to the roof, I should be able to fly us out of here,” Trinity says while rubbing her throbbing temples. Hearing footsteps on the stairs, she rushes out
of the room to find Altia heading for the door. “What are you doing? They’re going to tear you apart. We can escape if we work together.”

  “The Lich is right that I’ll slow you down,” the elf declares as she leans against a chair. She stares at the fake arm that shivers before vanishing from sight. “Everyone who joined you knew the risks and that sacrifices might have to be made. Besides, it’s more important that you survive than me. I only have a single man who I want to spend my life with and it isn’t like we spent a lot of time together in the first place. That’s nothing compared to you who has a kingdom to repair and lead out of the darkness. There’s no comparing the weight of our lives, your highness.”

  Casting a sticky web across the door, the channeler leaps down the stairs and gently catches her friend by the elbow. “I don’t care. If you want to be a part of my kingdom then you never give up without a fight. You also realize that retreating can be the smarter option. We only have to get out of Ashkeep and notify the nearest city to handle this. The receptacles won’t bother leaving the area since their orders-”

  “Are to eliminate all threats to Queen Trinity.”

  “Yes, but-”

  “Most of the world fears chaos elves. Do you think these monsters won’t react to that?”

  “I can come back-”

  “What if they see your daughter as a threat to your throne and go after her?”

  Feeling like she has been slapped across the face, Trinity clenches her fists and grinds her teeth. The sudden temptation to wipe out their enemies is enough for Yola’s spell to hit the chaos elf through her barrier. Falling to her hands and knees, the channeler vomits from the misery and agony that courses through her mind. Her concentration breaks enough that the bandages on Altia melt away, the wounds spurting as if to make up for lost time. Fearing that the barrier is in danger, Trinity gulps down a lump in her throat and pushes through the pain to reinforce their defenses. Regaining her composure, she crawls toward her companion to try and revive the patch and fake limb.

  “Stop wasting your energy and listen to me,” Altia whispers in a weak voice. She slowly removes her necklace and holds the uncut enhancer gem in her hand. “There is a spell in this that came from your magic. Ambrosine told me that I could only use it once, so I should save it for when I’m desperate. All I know is that I can’t use it if anyone I care about is nearby. Get yourself high above Ashkeep and escape. Once you’re safe, I can set this spell off and get rid of those creatures.”

  “Again, I refuse to leave you behind,” Trinity argues, reaching out to take the gem. She yanks her hand back when she feels like something is trying to bite her fingers. “Whatever is in there isn’t friendly. I know casters are typically protected from their own spells, but this doesn’t come from your magic. There could be a backlash or it could even fail entirely. Just give me a minute to figure out another way.”

  “We’ve wasted enough time,” the elf points out while dragging herself to the window. She smiles at the zombie-like receptacles that continue to attack the barrier in vain. “Why is it that people like you are always willing to sacrifice themselves, but get upset when someone tries to do the same on their behalf? Do you think you’re the only person in the world who is worthy enough to die a hero? You know, I’ve given up so much for a people that I don’t really belong to and I don’t regret a minute of it. Well, maybe giving up Quail without a fight, but you can’t change your past. My point is that we both have our roles to play. You’re the leader and I’m your protector, which means you let me do my job. Protectors don’t usually live until old age anyway, so this feels like it’s the right ending for me. Don’t make me pray to Ambrosine and get her involved because I’ll do it.”

  Realizing that she cannot change the young woman’s mind, Trinity wipes tears from her eyes and gives Altia a hug. “Just so you know, I’m coming back here once the dust settles and bringing you with me. Part of the barrier will remain around you, which I hope is enough to keep you safe. After all, you still have a secret that you haven’t shared.”

  “Fine, I promise not to die until then. Just go before things get worse.”

  Taking the stairs by twos, Trinity sprints to the rooftop and focuses her aura to punch through the turbulence. After a final glance at the exit, the channeler launches herself toward the clouds and takes part of the barrier with her. The instant she is clear of the magical interference, the spell becomes a protective bubble. She has the part left behind seep into the building and senses it wrapping around Altia, whose motions are registered as tremors along their faint connection. Trinity drifts higher while keeping her eyes on Ashkeep, which has become filled with rampaging receptacles. Seconds pass before a sudden burst of light erupts from the surrounded house and travels to every corner of the burning city. The ground shudders and a symphony of creaks rise from the buildings, the more damaged structures collapsing from the increase in pressure. The noise stops and silence covers the landscape before the destructive spell ends with a final boom that can be heard from miles away. Trinity can only stare at the flattened ruins that were once a vibrant city, her eyes never straying from the smashed remains of the massacred inhabitants.

  *****

  “The fire will keep you warm and I’ll set up traps to protect us,” Trinity says while she moves around the tiny clearing. Attached to a pile of stones, the violet flames drive away the cold and cast enough light to scare off the predators that smell blood. “Sorry, but I don’t have much for food. Think I can put a simple soup together, which should give you strength. Hold out for another day and we can reach a village. We can find a healer there. Things aren’t as bad as it looks, Altia.”

  The red-haired elf nods her head, but the gesture could be more a sign of her nearly passing out instead of agreement. Her remaining hand is mangled and covered in dripping bandages that do nothing to hide the damage. One of her eyes is missing, having popped out from the pressure spell that nearly killed her. The lower half of her right leg is flat, which does not prevent her from waving it around like a macabre flag. Altia tries to laugh at how she feels no pain, but she cannot muster enough amusement to do anything more than grin. Instead, she coughs and gasps in a desperate attempt to refill her damaged lungs. Her vision blurs and she can feel herself fading away until a pulse of energy ripples through her body. Looking up, the elf sees Trinity casting a spell that prevents her from losing consciousness.

  “That was a close one,” the channeler says with an awkward smile. Seeing the sadness in her companion’s face, she turns away and goes back to securing the campsite. “I’m sorry that my barrier couldn’t protect you from getting hurt. I never expected such a powerful spell. If only I gave you all of the protection instead of keeping part of it for myself. Don’t worry about it though because I can fix this. Not me specifically, but the village healer should be able to do something.”

  “Please let me die,” Altia whispers while lifting her hand to inspect the damage. An attempt to move her finger fails when the digit falls off and remains stuck to the bandages. “You blame yourself for this, but it isn’t your fault. I knew the pressure spell would kill me too. Another lie that you should hate me for. Please let me go.”

  “But Quail-”

  “Shouldn’t be forced to see me like this and you know it.”

  “At least give him a choice.”

  “I think I’ll repeat my last mistake with him and make the decision out of selfishness.”

  “Can you hold out until I find you a bed?”

  “Like I could even feel it. Come closer and let me tell you my final secret.”

  Fearing that Altia will die after speaking, Trinity stalls by making the soup and ladling the meal into their only bowl. Kneeling on the ground, she feeds the elf a few bites that are only broth since most of her friend’s teeth are gone. The channeler uses her magic to puree some of the jerky and carrots, the mushed food still difficult for the injured woman to eat due to a throat injury. Trinity’s hands begin to shake
as the quiet seconds pass away, each one feeling like an eternity. She finally gives in when her friend is no longer willing to eat and reaches out with her wrist to stroke the chaos elf’s cheek.

  “I envy your people,” Altia admits as she tries to keep her eyes open. A violent spasm snaps two of her ribs, which creates enough pain for her to regain her focus. “Ever since the Hejinn were defeated, the elves who live in the light have refused to create their own kingdom. We live within the systems of other cultures because we feel it is not our place to unify. This is supposed to be a punishment for our ancestors’ crimes, but the truth is that we are scared that the other races will fear us again. They will expect us to turn and give in to the demon taint that we all know is dormant within our bodies. It is still a sad excuse for us to spend eternity living in shame and guilt. So, we are jealous of the chaos elves who have a culture, traditions, and a kingdom that they can call their own. It is something that the rest of us can no longer achieve. That is my final secret, your highness. Those you have envied for living in the light are just as envious of you for forging a true home.”

  “Wait, you can’t leave after saying that!” Trinity exclaims as Altia’s eyes close. The elf’s breathing stops abruptly and she nearly slumps to the side, but the channeler catches her. “I don’t know what to do about that. Am I supposed to invite them to live on Shayd? Being hated and feared is so much easier than being accepted. Damn it, I needed you to help me, Altia! Don’t leave us now!”

  “Well, you seem to have become attached to our mutual friend,” Ambrosine says before stepping out of the shadows. Wearing leather armor, the Chaos Elf Goddess is doing her best to resemble a wandering adventurer, but her ethereal beauty and presence remain. “She was right about so many things. It’s better this way because you don’t want Quail to remember her like this. You’ve never been in love, which is why you don’t understand. Sorry, I didn’t mean to chastise you. Would you please cancel the magic that is keeping Altia here because I’d like to take her home?”