The First Champion

by Sandell Wall

  “Most of these people can’t stand, let alone run,” Brant said.

  “We can’t save them,” Lacrael said, shaking her head in anger at her own words.

  Brant’s reply died on his lips. He stared upward as a fleshy, pink tentacle of solid muscle disturbed the miasma overhead. A glistening spike tipped the questing appendage, and the two of them watched, transfixed, as the grotesque limb paused above a rock hut before plunging down with such force that it skewered the person huddled inside. The doomed man screamed. He clawed at the spike that impaled his chest, trying to pull himself off of it.

  As quickly as it had appeared, the tentacle retreated back into the miasma with its prey. The dying man’s screams echoed overhead long after he disappeared from sight.

  Niad hurtled between Lacrael and Brant in a mad dash to reach Gustavus’s resting place. Somewhere above them, the cries of horror were cut short by a wet crunch. An instant later, ten more tentacles came plunging down into the campsite. The blight star was hungry.

  Brant shoved Lacrael out of the way and swung an open hand at the nearest appendage. The eyes of the dragon amulet embedded in his chest flared to life, burning bright with orange light. Claws of shadow wreathed in fire flashed into existence in the air above Brant’s outstretched arm. These spectral talons mirrored the movements of Brant’s fingers, and where they struck, they sliced the tentacle clean through.

  The blight star screamed its agony from a hundred mouths. The monster’s cry was so deep and powerful that it rattled Lacrael’s teeth. In response to Brant’s attack, the tentacles went into a frenzy. They struck wildly at anything that moved.

  “You can’t fight this thing!” Lacrael said.

  Niad had collected Gustavus and was dragging him back towards them.

  “Help me!” Niad said.

  Behind Niad, anyone that tried to make a break from their crude shelters was pierced and dragged skyward. Lacrael’s warning finally registered on Brant, and he abandoned his attack. Instead, he jumped forward and took Gustavus out of Niad’s arms.

  Finally, the three of them turned and ran after Kaiser, Sorrell, and Tarathine. The screams of the dying spurred them on. Darkness closed in on all sides. Kaiser and Sorrell had disappeared in the swirling miasma, but they could only have gone in one direction to escape destruction.

  The earth shook beneath Lacrael—the blight star was almost on top of them. She stumbled. To her left, giant, fleshy columns reared out of the miasma, each one thicker than a man. They rose and fell in rhythmic precision, traversing the desert with ease and pulverizing anything that did not flee. Somewhere high above, these pink pillars supported one arm of the gargantuan monster. Tentacled claws hung from the sky in a swarm around this forest of churning, tubular feet.

  Lacrael regained her balance and veered away from the onrushing creature.

  “This way!” Lacrael shouted over the noise of the monster’s passing. “They travel in straight lines. If we can get out of its path, we might survive.”

  Brant ran at her side, Gustavus in his arms. Niad kept pace two steps behind them. Lacrael’s lungs burned as she sucked in miasma-ridden air, but she did not slow. Seconds later, they passed back into sunlight. The tremors running through the desert floor receded.

  Kaiser called out from nearby, and Lacrael oriented herself to his voice. To Lacrael’s relief, they found Kaiser, Sorrell, and Tarathine crouching next to a boulder. Lacrael gestured for them to get to their feet and keep running.

  “That was only one arm of the monster,” Lacrael said. “It has at least five more, and they can be thousands of feet long. We have to keep running to make sure we’re clear of it.”

  Lacrael led the way and Kaiser brought up the rear. They ran through the roiling miasma, legs burning as they pressed for speed in the shifting sands. As she ran, Lacrael had the macabre thought that it was better that everyone else had died back there, because none of the others had been healthy enough to make this dash to safety. Fifteen had come through the portal, now only six remained.

  After she was certain they must be clear of the danger, Lacrael pushed them to run another mile before calling a halt. When she finally did, they stumbled to a stop, dripping sweat and gasping for breath. The miasma swirled gently around them, as if nothing unusual had happened. Silence returned to the desert—they had left any evidence of the blight star’s passing behind them.

  “What in all the burning hells was that?” Brant said as he lowered Gustavus to the sand.

  “We call them blight stars,” Lacrael said. “They’re Abimelech’s gift to this realm. They wander the earth, spewing the miasma that is slowly destroying this world. And if we don’t defeat him, the same fate awaits the realms each of you call home.”

  Chapter 2

  KAISER STARED INTO THE swirling miasma. He was already turned around. It was impossible to tell which direction they had come from. He hated this place. The realm of Praxis had at least been like his home. He had been able to adapt and learn to function there. But Vaul was alien and hostile in a way that Kaiser could not comprehend. It seemed like every day he discovered some new threat that would poison, destroy, or devour him if he let his guard down for an instant.

  Disgusted, he dismissed the shining scimitar from his hand. His waning power only let him summon one of the spectral weapons these days. Not that it did him much good. How was he supposed to fight something like a blight star?

  Three months. They had been hanging on to survival for three cursed months. Without Lacrael and Niad, they would have perished within the first week. Kaiser’s contributions during that time were minimal, and he loathed being so dependent on the two women, even if he was grateful for their efforts.

  At Kaiser’s side, Sorrell seemed to sense his frustration. She met his gaze, and he saw in her eyes the same anger at being helpless. She did not say anything, but she did not need to. Over the past three months, Sorrell had been grappling with the sudden and radical change in her destiny. Kaiser knew what it felt like to have your life come crashing down around you.

  Sorrell had been despondent at first. Now, however, she was starting to return to her old self. Glimpses of the imperial admiral she had once been were starting to show through. Kaiser suspected Sorrell would have challenged his leadership role if they did not share a growing affection for one another.

  That, and Sorrell was sick. Even as Kaiser had the thought, her eyes widened, and she put a hand over her mouth. Sorrell turned and moved away quickly to retch in private. She got worse every day. The miasma affected everyone differently, and second to Gustavus, Sorrell seemed to suffer the most from it. Kaiser’s throat and lungs burned as he breathed in the airborne corruption. He raised his mask to cover his face.

  Kaiser had not thought he would ever care for another woman after Mariel’s death, and yet here he was, worried for Sorrell. Their mutual attraction was unspoken, and Sorrell seemed content to leave it that way for now, but even Kaiser could see that she preferred his company over anyone else in their small party. Tarathine approved, of that there was no doubt. Sorrell and Tarathine had become fast friends.

  Tarathine had gone to sit in the shade of a small boulder. Kaiser glanced in her direction. She had reclined on the sand and appeared to be fast asleep. Her strength and resilience continued to surprise Kaiser, but he knew she was growing weak. They all were. He would go check on her soon. For now, he decided to let her rest.

  Lacrael was still talking, explaining something about the blight star to Brant, but Kaiser was not listening. He could hear in her voice the need for conversation. She was trying to avoid giving in to despair, to avoid facing the hopelessness of their situation.

  Brant seemed to sense the same need in Lacrael, and he kept prompting her to keep talking. Kaiser contemplated the big man for a moment. Out of all of them, Brant was the only one who did not feel the effects of the miasma. Whatever strange powers he now possessed made him immune to the harshest realities of this savage wasteland. And desp
ite their bleak circumstances, Brant had lost none of his courage or optimism. For the first time since meeting the man, Kaiser found himself grateful for Brant’s presence. He wondered if Gustavus felt the same.

  Niad knelt next to Gustavus, a concerned look on her face. Gustavus was a shell of his former self. Kaiser estimated the man had lost at least half his body weight, most of it muscle. The miasma was bad enough, but Gustavus had trouble with the snail meat they were forced to rely on. The strange flesh did not agree with him, and what little he was able to keep down did not provide enough sustenance to keep him alive. Gustavus was dying a slow death of starvation. Unless they found another source of food, the man would not last much longer.

  Kaiser knew that, by now, his companions were accustomed to death. They had all suffered terrible loss. But to leave people to die, even if there was no other option, was a burden that most of them had never shouldered before.

  By Kaiser’s estimation, the blight star had done them a favor. Gustavus had insisted on helping as many of his sailors through the portal as possible, and those additional men and women had weighed them down since arriving in this forsaken place. Their chances of getting out of this were better with fewer mouths to feed. And with a smaller party, they would attract less attention to themselves.

  Tarathine’s future was all that mattered. Kaiser would trade a hundred more lives if it meant he could get his daughter to safety. He had clung to this truth for over a year now, but his heart did not seem so hard as it used to be. A question that he could not get out of his head swam to the surface of his mind and asked for the hundredth time: would he leave Sorrell to die, if it came to that?

  Kaiser did not have a ready answer, and that bothered him.

  With a sigh, he turned his attention to Lacrael’s and Brant’s conversation. They had gone on long enough. It was time to get back to the business of survival.

  “We still need food,” Kaiser said, raising his voice loud enough to interrupt Lacrael.

  Lacrael stopped speaking mid-sentence. Both she and Brant turned towards Kaiser. Niad looked up from where she knelt by Gustavus.

  “I’ll be the first to say it: that was bad,” Kaiser said, gesturing in the direction he guessed they had come from. “More than half our number died back there, and we didn’t have any choice in the matter. Don’t carry any guilt with you because you got away. I know this may sound harsh, but now isn’t the time to grieve. We’re still alive, and if we intend to stay that way, we need to eat.”

  “What’s the point?” Gustavus said from where he lay. His voice sounded as ragged as he looked. “We’ve gone as far as we can. Best to just lie down and die. This desert wants to strip our bones clean. There’s no escaping it. Why keep fighting?”

  “Stow that talk, captain,” Niad said. “We’ll get out of this yet.”

  “Hah!” Gustavus said. It came out more as a cough than a laugh. “What a pitiful excuse for a captain I make. No, that dream died when my second ship sank. I promised those sailors deliverance. I held the portal open to the last second so they could escape through it with us. Now they’re all in the belly of some hideous monstrosity. I should have died back there with them.”

  “We’ll go find food,” Lacrael said. “We’re a long way from our first campsite. Rock snails should be plentiful around here.”

  Niad got to her feet. She looked down at Gustavus, who had lapsed into silence. Lacrael touched Niad’s arm, and the woman turned away from Gustavus. Together, the two of them hiked out into the desert.

  Kaiser watched them go. After about twenty paces, they disappeared. How they navigated the miasma was a mystery to him, but they never failed to find their way back.

  “What I wouldn’t give to see the blue sky one last time,” Gustavus said.

  “You’ll see it again,” Brant said. “Keep the faith. Niad’s right. We’ll find our way home.”

  “Faith? You want to talk to me about faith?” Gustavus said. He found the strength to prop himself up on his elbows and glare in Brant’s direction. “You got yourself some shiny new powers and all of a sudden you fancy yourself some sort of hero? You spend the last three months navel gazing and now you think you know more about faith than I do? Let me tell you about faith. I lived my entire life believing in the high king. I worked towards the goal of his glorious return. Did I expect to gain some rich reward for my efforts? No. I did so because I believed the cause was just.

  “I don’t have to tell you what my reward was, because you damned well know. But I’ll tell you what I’ve learned. If the high king exists, he doesn’t care about people like me. He spent the lives of my crew like cheap currency. You stand there and talk to me about ‘keeping the faith’ when you probably can’t tell me the full name of a single person that died back there. Can you do that, oh mighty hero?”

  Brant did not respond.

  “I thought not,” Gustavus said in disgust. “I don’t have to ask to know what Kaiser’s thinking. Ten to one, he’s thinking that we’re better off without so many useless bodies. But those were people, they had hopes and dreams, they had futures ahead of them. Curse my soul. They had names, and each and every one of them followed us here because they thought we could keep them safe. They thought I could keep them safe.

  “So, don’t you dare talk to me about ‘keeping the faith.’ I kept the faith for thirty years, and look where it got me. I have no home to return to, and almost everyone I cared about is dead. You’re some demon-possessed madman, and the other three are the supposed high king’s champions. Maybe the four of you get out of this alive, but the rest of us are just grist for the mill.”

  Gustavus’s words hung in the air like the poisoned miasma they all breathed.

  “You’re wrong,” Brant said quietly. “I knew their names, and I called each of them friend. I’ll grieve them in my own way and when the time is right. You forget, I’ve been with Kaiser and Lacrael from the start. They didn’t want any of this. I certainly didn’t. You’re the only one that willingly chose this path. None of us would be here if not for you.”

  Gustavus turned his head away. It may have been a refusal to acknowledge what Brant was saying, but Kaiser suspected that Brant’s words were hitting Gustavus hard.

  “The man’s right,” Kaiser said. “This grudge you’re holding against us doesn’t make any sense. You brought us here. You tried, and failed, to convert me to the faith you’ve now discarded. And now that we’re trying to fight the fight you’ve abandoned, you’ve nothing to offer but spite.”

  Kaiser waited for Gustavus to respond, but the other man remained silent with his head turned away. Brant moved to stand next to Kaiser. The big man crossed his arms and sighed.

  “It would help if you weren’t so obvious in your opinions of people,” Brant said. “Gustavus is… sensitive to your callous disregard for the lives of his people. His accusations were meant for you, not me.”

  “I told him this was how it was going to be,” Kaiser said. “That day in Thornhold, I warned him that the only thing that mattered to me were the lives of my family. That hasn’t changed.”

  “No one faults you for that determination, and we all want to save your family, but that single-mindedness doesn’t mean you have to exclude everyone else, does it? Lacrael won’t say it to your face, but she cares for you like a brother. Niad respects you a great deal. Blast it, the reason Gustavus gets so angry at you is because he admires you. Your constant need to push him away hurts him. You let Sorrell get close. Why can’t you let anyone else?”

  Kaiser contemplated Brant’s words for a long time before responding. Finally, he grunted in surprise.

  “You’ve come a long way since Oakroot,” Kaiser said. “You’ve changed, matured from a boy into a man. Not to mention that you’ve saved my life more than once now. And I can appreciate that with this maturity comes introspection as you look at the world differently, drawing new conclusions to replace the vanity of youth.

  “Perhaps you think you’ve stu
mbled onto some new insight into my character or motivations. But there’s something you need to understand about me, and I’ll only say this once, so listen well. I come from a place where caring for people was more than a weakness; it was a risk. Both to myself and to anyone that would call me a friend. I was carefully and expertly formed, molded into a weapon for which the only thing that mattered was my duty. That I even had and cared for a family broke that mold, and I ended up paying for it dearly.

  “Maybe someday, if we’re victorious, I’ll have the luxury of letting go of my past, but until then, never forget that while I’m no longer Abimelech’s minion, I remain a reaver. Death is possible, but failure isn’t. The lives of my daughter and son are at stake. I’ll not let anything come between me and their safety.”

  Brant glanced over Kaiser’s shoulder, and Kaiser turned around as he finished speaking to find that Sorrell had returned. She had obviously been standing there long enough to overhear the end of the conversation. Sorrell hid her emotions well, but Kaiser thought he detected sadness in her gaze. His heart fell, and he wanted to reach out to her, to try and explain. Instead, he said nothing, and the moment passed.

  “I should make some water,” Sorrell said.

  “Are you up for it?” Kaiser said.

  “I think I can manage to fill the canteen.”

  Kaiser removed the canteen he carried from his belt and handed it to Sorrell. It was one of the few useful items they had brought through the portal with them, and it had proved invaluable for storing and drinking water.

  Sorrell sat cross-legged on the ground with the canteen in her lap. She removed the lid, placed a palm over the open container, and closed her eyes. Frost formed on the metal sides of the canteen as Sorrell filled it with ice. When she finished, Sorrell sealed the flask and buried it up to the stopper in the sand. The heat from the desert would melt the enchanted ice in just a few minutes, producing a crystal clear, refreshing water.