by Tam Chronin
"Those are homes," Arlanz said as they all filed out, following. "They might start a fire brigade, but not if everyone has gone to save the university."
"Look," Bretav grimly pointed toward the source of another pillar of darkness that rushed toward the clouds. "That's the direction of the library. It's smaller, but it's there."
As they all stepped outside they could smell the smoke. They could hear cries for help and calls for water and shouts of people trying to organize what was surely to become the worst disaster in history.
"We need to do something," Byrek said urgently. "We need to help!"
Davri shook his head. "Where? This won't be all of it. Over there, there's more!" He pointed behind the cafe, and this was clearly closer to them.
"I am going to help evacuate people," Arlanz said. "I will make sure they can leave their homes safely. They will follow me because I am so tall, they will see me easily."
"I'm going with you," Bretav said in a tone that brooked no argument.
Davri and Byrek exchanged a look. "We're going to the university," Davri told Krecek. "Are you coming with us?"
Krecek shook his head. "They'll panic if they see me," he said. "Go on. I'm going to the temple to tie up a few loose ends."
He knew that those who had set the fires would not burn down their own homes. The temples would be safe, unscathed. For now.
The bells clamored their alarm, filling the streets with their tintinnabulation through every district within Anogrin.
Bretav exchanged a look with her husband. It had certainly taken long enough for them to start ringing. The streets had been clogged with people in a panic for what seemed like hours already.
"Thank you," the old man said, eyes watering in gratitude as he looked up at Arlanz.
"It was nothing," he replied.
They'd just helped the old man down some stairs. A small gesture. One anyone would do.
One that not many others had thought of in their panic, however.
"You should hurry," Bretav said, looking around. The bells had whipped people into a new frenzy. "To the square, at least. Or, to the gates if you can. There are many fires burning now."
He nodded, moving at what must have been a rushed pace at his advanced age. It seemed painfully slow to Bretav.
"We seem to have this block roused," Arlanz said. He looked around, seeing over the tops of the heads of those around them.
Bretav pointed. "The fires are coming closer. We should—"
An anguished scream cut through the noise.
A woman was standing in front of one of the homes that were burning, pointing to the second story and calling out for help. She had her arm wrapped in a makeshift sling and two others held her back from running into the house. "Kestra! Someone save Kestra! She's still up there!"
The girl in question stood in front of the window. Her hands were pressed flat against the glass, and then she slapped ineffectively against it. She couldn't have been more than four, not nearly old enough to break it.
Smoke was filling the room. The roof was aflame.
Any rescue attempt short of magic would be futile.
"Gods, that poor girl." Bretav started to cry, just seeing her up there.
Before she could react any further than that Arlanz left her side. He rushed into the house.
"It's not safe!"
One of the men who held back the mother shouted a warning. He reached a hand in Arlanz's direction, but the mother nearly escaped him, and he was forced to hold her back yet again.
Bretav knew the warning was useless. Arlanz wasn't the type of man to leave a child in danger.
Timbers groaned and the smoke grew thicker.
A heartbeat later flame poured through every opening of the house.
Windows shattered.
A blast of heat washed over the spectators.
The house began to crumble and Bretav let out a scream.
The library had turned into a riot between mages and priests.
Spells were flung with near disregard for who they might hit. Aim toward an enemy and hope.
Byrek paused. These were his students, his friends, his colleagues. Even a good number of the priests had been among the people he'd tutored or counseled. Krecek hadn't been his only student to join the priesthood.
"We won't make any difference here."
Gods curse it all, Davri was right. "But..."
"I know," Davri said. "Come on. We'll check below."
Below. To the laboratories.
Every space where experimental magic was tested, a safe zone needed to be established. Somewhere that minimal harm would befall when things went wrong. In a school these needed to be especially reinforced, so they were nestled deep in the stone of the mountain.
They rushed down the numerous stairs and down a long corridor lit by a dim glow of magic. The door Byrek sought was ajar, and papers were scattered even into the hallway.
Were they too late?
"Keevan! Are you—"
"I'm here," the hobgoblin snapped.
"We've got to go," Thera was with him, holding a folio of hastily gathered pages. "If we dally, the priests might find their way down here."
"Wouldn't that be worth seeing the surprise on their faces?" Keevan's lips twisted into a wicked grin. "Might be worth it to wait here to see it."
Thera laughed. "It might."
"Don't worry, girl," he said to her. "I'm almost finished here. Get to a safe distance. Half way down the mountain might be good."
"I'll see you at Hodarian's Bay."
"Be safe, Thera," Keevan said. "It's been an honor working with you."
"The honor's been mine," she said, dashing out of the room.
Keevan watched her go, unmoving. There was a grim set to his eyes as he pulled a device from a drawer. "The two of you should leave, too. I've received the help I needed. I just need to burn what's left in here."
He waved a vial of liquid fire under Byrek's nose.
Davri took a step back, and Byrek nearly did the same. That much?
"Are you planning on burning down the whole university?"
Keevan nodded. "Every inch of it."
Byrek and Davri exchanged a look of alarm, then understanding.
"That's been the plan all along?" Byrek stared at Keevan.
"Indeed. The students are only delaying and distracting. This," he hefted the device in his arms, "just might destroy the entire city. It's my present to the priests." He grinned and strapped the device to his back, then clasped Byrek's hand. "It wasn't the same here, without you. Thank you, for…" He broke off with a nod.
"It was an honor to work with you, my friend," Byrek said solemnly. "Goodbye."
Davri left then, to sound alarms and spread the word for evacuation. He knew Keevan Dershan did not expect to survive the night.
Many people would not.
Arlanz knew he was dead as soon as he crossed the threshold of the burning home.
Baedrogan stood before him, shrouded from outside view by the thick smoke. The god of death had his arms crossed before him, glowering. "You're wasting your life. The child has no chance to live. Your wife stands outside, mourning already."
"Bretav is strong," Arlanz said, pushing past. He ignored the heat and dashed toward the stairs. "This child is not."
"What of your child?" Baedrogan followed. He stood easily when Arlanz wavered on his feet.
"All of my children have been taken by you," Arlanz coughed. "I shall finally meet them." His eyes burned from the smoke, and his throat itched.
He kept going.
The stairs were intact. He hurried to them, meaning to take them two or more at a time.
Arlanz stumbled forward upon them, on the first step. The air shimmered around him from the heat. His head...he was so dizzy now. He had to be quick.
"It will be a long time before you meet your last," Baedrogan said, leaning down close to Arlanz's ear. "Bretav carries a girl for you, even now."
It
was hard, but Arlanz did not hesitate. Falling had given him a few moments more, bringing his head under the layer of smoke. On all fours, he dashed up. He reached the top of the stairs and crawled forward to the girl's door. "Then my daughter shall live knowing that her father died to do what is right. To do what I must."
It was the only thing he had to say to the god of death.
Arlanz pushed open the door and released the awaiting inferno. The pain was excruciating as the flames engulfed him, devouring his flesh. He could not stop the gasp that pulled the fire into his lungs.
Even still, he was reaching for the girl.
She was whole. Untouched.
Unharmed.
This girl must live. Arlanz reached toward her as he was consumed. His soul cried out. I give my life for hers.
Clack, clack, clack, clack.
The sound of Krecek's boots striking the marble floor echoed in the empty hall.
The Temple Magica was a bastion of peace, the eye of a great storm.
It was odd to see the halls so empty in the light of day. It was so still, so empty, that the shifting of his clothes seemed as startling as a shouted profanity. Krecek was tempted to hold his breath, just to be silent. He already felt like an outsider, an intruder, in these sacred halls.
His chamber doors hung open.
They'd been locked this morning. It was a habit Krecek had formed after he'd found a young supplicant naked in his bed. Thief, peace offering, or bribe, perhaps. The intent didn't matter. The invasion of privacy had not been welcome.
The key sat heavy in his pocket as he entered. The air was heavy, thick with a familiar scent.
"You don't think you're going to sneak out of the city that easily, do you?"
Nalia was lounging upon his bed, naked as the supplicant he'd been reminded of.
"I had no plans of sneaking." Krecek turned his back on her and gathered his belongings. "I thought I'd simply walk away."
"Walk away?" She laughed. "After all I've done for you?"
"After all you've done to me, yes." He slammed shut a drawer and whirled on her. "I can't do this anymore. I can't live like this. I'm nothing but a pampered pet! I need more."
Nalia stood, a gown of darkness and glittering jewels forming upon her body as she walked toward him. "I'm a goddess, Krecek. Do you think you can be my equal?"
"Of course not."
But, wasn't that exactly what Agruet had hinted? Wizards were as powerful as gods.
Their equals.
Their betters.
Wizards knew what it was to be mortal.
To have empathy.
To have morals.
"Leave then," she said, voice suddenly light, flippant. "Burn the whole town if that's what you want." Nalia placed a hand on his chest, over his heart. "It's the most impressive tantrum I've ever seen from one of my own."
"I'm not yours anymore." A whisper. A plea.
She ignored him.
"There's beauty in so much destruction," she continued. "I appreciate beauty when I see it. When you're finished, when you tire of it, you'll return. Your little rebellion is cute, but futile." Nalia's hand slipped downward. She grabbed his cock with a smirk. "You'll never be free of me. You're mine, Krecekarmalin Alavraneth." The goddess spoke his full elvin name as if it was a leash made of words that would bind him to her.
The name only his parents should have known.
The one only his mother had ever used.
He was enraged by the violation.
"Not anymore!" This time he shoved her away.
"Always."
Nalia vanished as if she’d never been there.
Krecek stood shaking in rage and fear.
A tantrum?
She'd called this a tantrum?
Fine. He grabbed his small pack of belongings and tore through the temple. He dispelled the enchantments that held it together, one at a time, and reveled in the destruction as everything crumbled.
He'd spent the majority of his life maintaining those spells. He'd poured his soul into their longevity in honor of the goddess of magic, and to honor those priests who had come before him.
No more.
"Fotar will never forgive me for this," Baedrogan muttered as he came to a decision. He stood between Arlanz and the little girl, Kestra.
She was weeping, confused but unscathed. Probably terrified.
The girl could wait a moment more. It wouldn't kill her.
Baedrogan knelt beside Arlanz. Sighed. "You may die."
Arlanz's suffering ended at the sound of that command.
"You've done the right thing," Baedrogan said to the smoldering corpse before him. "You deserve your rest. Better you die now than to see what is to come." He then turned to Kestra. "You're going to be a great mage, when you grow up. Come, child. You get to live."
The god of death held out his hand and Kestra took it. He guided her out to the street safely and looked her in the eyes. "Remember what you've seen tonight."
Kestra's mother ran to them, snatching her away. "My baby!" she wailed. "My baby!"
Baedrogan turned to the mother, eyes cold. "Five other children her age are dying at this very moment. There are ten infants in the city burning to death in their cribs. Your father is trapped under a fallen beam on the other side of town, and you can't save him. This girl is the only one I'll spare. See to it her life is worth sparing. Get off your knees and run!"
The woman stared, white as a sheet.
Baedrogan raised his eyebrows.
She grabbed Kestra into her arms and ran.
The others ran, too, but Bretav held her ground.
Baedrogan glared at her for her defiance.
"Please. Did he suffer?"
This. This made Baedrogan pause. "Yes." He eyed her, impassive.
"Did he…did he, even once, wish he hadn't…?"
"No." He touched Arlanz's widow with a frigid hand. "I gave him every chance, every motive, to turn back and let the girl die. He would not."
She nodded, biting the heel of her hand to keep from screaming her anguish, even as the tears ran down her face.
A small sound escaped her, but she inhaled sharply to keep it in.
So brave. So compassionate.
Mortals were so oddly self-sacrificing and needlessly noble at all the most inconvenient times.
Baedrogan looked around them, only to ensure any other gods would not witness this moment of weakness. He opened his arms to Bretav.
She clung to him, almost collapsing as the emotions took her over. Now she wailed. Now she screamed. It would be good for her.
He stroked her hair and gave what comfort he could. "I would take you now," he said, offering the greatest comfort he could give, "but I promised Arlanz that his child would see this world."
Bretav looked up at him, the question clear in her tear-filled eyes.
He nodded.
"Go now. Save yourself and the innocent life within you."
Baedrogan watched her run for safety. His eyes followed her a long while.
Lives were ending all around and he gave them barely a thought.
He gave them peace, gave their souls sanctuary, but the afterlife was his domain. His own creation. How would the dead enter, once he came to an end?
If Bretav and Arlanz were to be reunited, he would have to take her too soon.
And their poor child…
"What the frilly feathered fuck, Baedrogan?"
The voice was like nails on a chalkboard to the god of death.
Fotar, god of fire.
"Uncle," Baedrogan said, bowing his head so Fotar wouldn't see him sneer, or roll his eyes.
"Since when do you save lives, or give out hugs?"
"Since when has it been your business what I do, or don't do?"
Fotar waved a hand dismissively. "I could have taken them both, cleansed them both before their deaths. Why did you save the girl?"
"I liked how she wasn't afraid," Baedrogan said.
The ol
der god looked at the god of death, nonplussed. "Why would you like that?"
Why indeed? Mortals were supposed to be afraid of death. It's all that kept them alive.
Kestra was afraid of dying, as she should be. What had touched him was...she wasn't afraid of him, the god of death. Even while she watched him take a life.
Baedrogan turned and walked away without answering. He had a busy night ahead of him.
Just for spite, he made the girl immortal.
That should irritate all the right people.
He'd always wanted to do that to someone who hadn't begged for it. This would be his last chance to do so. The other gods were too distracted to stop him.
A great mage and an immortal. That was sure to annoy someone down the road.
"Aren't you supposed to be off terrorizing students and ending innocent lives?"
The question rang out, echoing through the expanse of the great hall, as Krecek entered it. The gruff voice was familiar, but not one he'd expected.
"Keevan Dershan?" What was the old professor doing here? Now?
"In the wrinkly old flesh," the hobgoblin replied. He looked Krecek over, eyes narrowed in obvious suspicion.
"I've decided to take the night off," Krecek said to grandiose effect. "Permanently."
To make his point, he waved a hand and the wrought iron candle rack flew into the pews, splintering the wood and setting them on fire.
Keevan's eyebrows raised.
"That's just the beginning." Krecek lifted his arms upward, pulling the final spell that kept the sacred tree of magic afloat above the temple. It would hover for a few more minutes, but it was doomed.
No turning back.
"Would you like some help?" Keevan shrugged and turned, showing off a strange device strapped to his back.
It was magic, whatever it was.
"What is it?"
"Pure destruction."
"How much?"
Keevan grinned. "I'm not entirely sure. It's the most powerful explosive I've had the chance to put together."
"Well then." Krecek found himself impressed. "Let's find out."
Chapter Thirteen –