The Abandoned Sorcerer

by Nefarious

  Surprisingly, the farmer didn’t seem to care at all; maybe he knew nutheads only cared for one thing. Perhaps Fexa the Gracious allowed nutheads, considering how much money and jobs they made for her territories.

  By the time they reached their destination on the path, it was daybreak, and the farmer had given up on his efforts, apparently not as big a fan of his voice as Orion had mused. Flynn rarely stirred, only ever getting up to open his bag. In foresight, Orion had only thought of his body’s safety when grouping up with Flynn: even if a gang of Flynns betrayed him, he could still get the upper hand. Next time, he also had to think of his mind’s wellbeing.

  They got off, thanked the farmer, peered at Flynn’s map, and headed further north for an hour until they finally saw Marshall’s Keep.

  The swamp water was murky-green, and moss dominated the land. There were many downed trees to jump over and rotted wood and animal shit to brush off. Contrary to Orion’s expectations, there weren’t any loud roars or monsters galore. Only the croaks of frogs and the zipping of flies reassured them the swamp was still alive.

  It appeared the Rockskin had played aplenty in its new stamping ground.

  Surprisingly, Flynn had gotten his act together since entering the swamp as he had stopped sniffing at his bag every few seconds. Instead, he gripped his longsword and shield as he trod carefully. Were it not for his face being the same and his eyes being as bloodshot as before, Orion would’ve guessed him to be another person.

  It was while Orion was trying to ignore the marshy reek that Flynn bumped into him and pointed into the distance. There lay a gluttonous reptile at least two metres long and a metre wide. It was half the height of a human, but something, mainly the bulging stomach, told Orion they would die if it rolled over them. Its famously hard and gritty skin looked soft and sticky from the dried swamp water.

  It was tearing into a flesh fountain with claws the size of hands, voraciously sinking its teeth into the meat as if there was actually space in its belly.

  Flynn tapped on Orion’s shoulder and pointed to the tail that made up half the beast. “Don’t get near that,” he whispered, his tone sharp, unrecognisable with the former him. “The claws are nothing but get close to that tail and it’ll feel like a bull to the balls. Don’t die, alright? Get near it and distract it. I’ll come from behind and cripple it, and then we’ll just chip it dead. Simple.”

  Orion opened his mouth, but Flynn continued. “If it’s not so simple, see that cave there,” he said while pointing to a cavemouth as wide as Orion’s shortsword, “Run in there. If my cripple fails, we can’t outrun it, no matter how fat it is.” he finished.

  He nodded to Orion and sneaked away, the Rockskin deaf to the wet slaps of his feet circling it.

  In little time, he was in the trees behind the beast.

  Orion stared at his hands and considered using Giah. He was sure he could kill the beast alone if he went all-out, but then he’d have to kill Flynn, and he didn’t want to kill indiscriminately. He glanced towards the dirtied, ginger man crouching and nodded. Since Flynn was so confident, he’d at least amuse his plan.

  He clenched his shortsword as he creeped softly, not looking where he stepped but instead into the beast’s oblivious eyes. The second they snapped over would be the second that mattered.

  First step: still blood on its mind.

  Second step: its teeth gorging flesh.

  Third step: it scratched its nose.

  Fourth step: it resumed eating.

  Fifth step: its tongue slipped out and licked the blood off its eyes.

  Sixth step: the eyes flickered over.

  Orion sprinted the last few metres, the Rockskin dropping the carcass and raising its arms.

  Too slow.

  He flicked at its hanging tongue with his tip and fell back, the monster clawing at air.

  It almost launched itself at Orion but instead stopped and turned.

  He couldn’t see clearly due to the bulking monster in front of him and the blasted murky water, but he could clearly hear the scream.

  “RUN!” Flynn screamed.

  Orion didn’t process the words - that was not allowed in Zakari military training - he simply followed. He was in the cave before he even realised what he was doing. He whacked his head and swore, picking his arse up to get outside when another figure tumbled through.

  Flynn landed on his chest and spat pungent blood into the dark. They had fucked up…

  7. Completing the Square

  * * *

  Since their lamps were in their bags, the only light against the inky darkness came through the entrance in the form of bleak, flickering sunlight. The Rockskin rammed the cave and roared into the opening, spitfiring saliva at the two Seekers. The sunlight returned as the Rockskin withdrew, but it was dark again in a second as the monster smashed against the hole. Orion felt a slimy caress against his hand.

  He snapped.

  He struck with his sword and then pierced towards the entrance. The Rockskin shrieked in agony as light filled the cave again, Orion simultaneously being sprayed with blood. He wiped his face and looked down, catching sight of the crimson tongue squirming like a worm. He stepped onto it, then kicked it away, his foot squelching with each move.

  Glancing to the side, Orion saw Flynn and went to kneel by his side. The ginger-man had curled into a fetal position with his hands clutched against his stomach.

  “Are you ok? Let me see,” Orion said as he moved Flynn’s hands, revealing a growing dark patch.

  “No. Open my bag,” his companion said while feebly pushing back.

  Self-aware he was no medic, Orion clenched his teeth and listened, taking the bag off Flynn and opening it.

  “What do you want?”

  “Yellow… paper,”

  Orion found the wrapped up yellow paper and opened it, only to freeze.

  The cave had stunk off damp mould, then of blood and fetid saliva. Now, another smell burst open and filled the cave with a distinctive scent. Toasty, nutty, and honey-like. There was no accompanying odour of manure, but instead one of sea salt. While Orion gaped at the opened package, Flynn gained the strength to get up from the released smell and took the package from his frozen companion. He put the paper to his face, to his nostrils, and snorted.

  Orion woke up to the thud and looked at his collapsed companion. He moved over and stiffly took the paper, brushing his finger against it and looking at it in the cheerless light. It was powdered Gajoi nuts, ground up into salt-like crystals. He didn’t know how you could make something as soft and crumbly as Gajoi nuts into powder, but the dealers had done it. He threw the paper into the darkness and checked on Flynn. Flynn wasn’t breathing, and he wasn’t moving. Wearing an empty expression, Orion moved away and picked up his shortsword, then headed towards the entrance. Suddenly, a hand clasped his shoulder, and in shock, Orion punched.

  Flynn didn’t even flinch, instead he smiled. “Kill,” he said cheerfully.

  “No. Sit down. I’ll kill it,” Orion said, trying to gently seat him.

  But instead of taking the advice, Flynn pulled Orion down and walked past, picking up his longsword and pulling himself to the outside. Orion hit the sullied ground and sighed.

  He was sick, sick of the stench, sick of Flynn’s actions, sick of the contract. He growled as he rose; he might have been one of the weaker Zakari, but he was still a Zakari. Pride-fueled anger coursed through him, giving him a wild ferocity. He flung himself out of the cave and came into the murky-lit swamp.

  Flynn was a few steps ahead, wasting the air in his lungs as he cackled at the Rockskin. The monster stood on a crumbled stone-wall with its back to Orion, observing the madman. It had learnt from its mistake in the cave, so it warily scanned for any traps, its sliced tongue filling its mouth with blood. But no matter how hard it looked, the human still looked like easy prey. Besides, its patience had already thinned out.

  At the same time, Orion’s eyes whitened and boundless energy rushed in
to him. An icicle formed beside him, his right hand stretching it longer. In a matter of seconds, it was as long as a spear and reflected the foul scene back against the world.

  The Rockskin leapt, its gaping maw showering Marshall’s Keep with blood, its claws heading straight for the ginger human. Then, a spear pierced through its lungs and out, the momentum pulling its body away from Flynn. The monster plunged into the ground, splashing dirty water. It tried to move but its mind faltered, sending the body into spasms.

  The impact had felled Flynn and he now lay in the water drowning. Orion picked him up by his gambeson and dumped him on dry ground before walking to the Rockskin. He placed his left hand on the spear; the ice-spear exploded away from Orion, tearing into the Rockskin’s organs and into distant trees. He chopped with his sword and snapped the neck, plopping the head into water.

  The Rockskin was a 3-star monster, but that was while on dry land. Prolonged exposure to water ruined its rock-hard skin, making it an easy target. Yet, Flynn had almost died against it.

  Orion picked the head by its ear and walked back. He stepped on Flynn’s shield and picked it up to take a better look. Despite Flynn’s own advice, it seemed he hadn’t been wary enough as the Rockskin had whipped its tail against him, snapping the shield and tearing flesh off his stomach. This explained why he had screamed for them to retreat. Shaking his head, Orion dropped the broken shield and walked over to Flynn. He dropped the monster’s head beside his unconscious companion and slipped back into the reeking cave to get their bags. Placing the Rockskin’s head in Flynn’s bag, he used the packaged bandages on Flynn. While he wasn’t practised at dressing wounds, he did manage to treat them on a surface level.

  He had considered killing Flynn, ending his miserable existence, but memories of his sister had prevented him from executing the drastic action. His sister had fallen much lower than Flynn, and yet she had managed to fix her life. Ending Flynn’s life would also end any hopes of a better life for the man, something Orion couldn’t bring himself to do.

  He repacked the bags and placed them both on Flynn’s back, before hoisting his companion onto his back. They had only come to the outskirts of Marshall’s Keep but Orion was already eager to get out.

  Three hours later, he was back on the dust track, piggybacking Flynn to Visgamar, the closest settlement. His whole body ached, and his arms and legs burned with pain. Nonetheless, he continued walking, aware that Visgamar was only a few hours more.

  During the duration, he hadn’t come across a single traveller. But now, far behind them, he saw a small dot tracing his steps. Orion stopped and let Flynn down before stretching his numbed limbs.

  The figure slowed as they got closer, their cloak hiding their face and body.

  “Are you of faith?” Orion shouted, hoping it was another zealous farmer.

  The cloaked figure didn’t respond.

  Orion gripped his shortsword and tried again. “Do you trust in Fexa the Gracious? Please, I need your help,” he shouted.

  Once again, the cloaked figure didn’t respond. Instead, they took out a shortsword and paced onwards.

  8. Celebrating a Good Time

  * * *

  The winds puffed across the dry plains, swaying weeds and grass. It tugged at Orion’s clothes and at the figure’s cloak. The two parties were fifty metres apart, and the figure seemed disinterested in circling him and walking past.

  Hoping for reason to avail, Orion tried again. “Please, let’s not devolve to violence like monsters,” His body ached, and he doubted his ability to carry Flynn to Visgamar after a fight unless he got lucky.

  The figure was now thirty metres away and edging closer. They were near enough for Orion to peek through the cowl. “You’re a woman,” he exclaimed. “It’s dangerous on the road if bandits catch you. Since we’re heading the same way, why don’t we group up for safety?”

  “I’m about to mow down two bandits right now,” she answered, her tone grave.

  Considering their combat clothes and their bloody and ragged appearance, Orion knew it wasn’t much of a stretch to assume them bandits. But still, he had been carrying Flynn, who was severely injured, meaning they obviously weren’t going to rob anyone anytime soon. So what kind of conceited bitch was she to execute them for such a fanciful assumption.

  “We’re not bandits,” Orion said, before bitterly laughing. “We’re Seekers come from a hunt,”

  “Seekers?” she said surprised. “Like monster hunter Seekers?”

  “The very same,” he answered. While keeping his eye on her, he opened Flynn’s bag and pulled out the Rockskin’s head.

  “Oh,” she said disappointed. Orion didn’t know whether she was disappointed with their kill, or over the fact she couldn’t slaughter them over a false assumption. She awkwardly stood in silence, lacking the words to explain her thoughts.

  “Are of you of Fexa’s faith?” he repeated, guessing she was a religious fanatic.

  “Yeah,” she mumbled. She walked forwards as she said, “Since you’re Seekers, do you know how I can become one?”

  “Yep. We’re heading to the Seeker’s building right now if you want to join,”

  She nodded as she stepped in front of him. He sheathed his shortsword while maintaining sight, before realising he’d be defenceless next to a crazy person if he picked up Flynn again. Contrarily, she was nonchalant at his presence as she stood with her back to Orion, inspecting Flynn.

  “Did you do this?” she asked while picking at the bandages.

  “Yeah,” he answered while creeping to Flynn, tense over her calmness.

  She chuckled and ripped them off. “You’re terrible. He would’ve died in a few hours, regardless of your intentions,”

  Opening her backpack, she took out a flask and a small knife. She cleaned away the pus that had bloomed under the bandages and spread concentrated alcohol over the wound that covered half of Flynn’s abs. He gasped but didn’t wake. Then, she held the knife over his stomach. Orion crouched around the other side and watched her method. He hadn’t considered the pus build-up due to the tension at Marshall’s Keep, and the alcohol they had bought had been weak.

  Head-level with her, he glanced at her. She had glowing tanned skin and black eyes. She had caramel-brown hair and creamy-pink lips. Her maroon cloak hid the rest of her figure but Orion could tell she was pretty. She caught his stare, but he didn’t look away. Instead, he tried to figure her intentions, after all, he doubted she was as volatile as she seemed. Or at least he hoped.

  He only looked away when he realised the knife was magically reddening. Without hesitation, she pressed the knife against the wound, causing Flynn to scream.

  “Hold him down,” she said, clearly comfortable commanding a stranger.

  Over the following minutes, Flynn’s screams sounded across the plains as she cauterised his wound, only stopping once it was closed off and bandaged. By this time, he had fainted again.

  “Alright, let’s go,” she said as she flung Flynn over her back and started walking. Her strength shocked Orion but he kept quiet, not wanting to provoke a reaction.

  * * *

  The trio walked through Visgamar’s gates and headed towards the Seeker’s building.

  Over the hours, Orion learnt her name was Kora, and that she was from a village west of Marshall’s Keep. She had dreamed of being a Seeker, and now that she was 20, she decided to risk her life and entertain her fantasy. To his own surprise, Orion actually believed it considering how reckless, naïve, and temperamental she was.

  Flynn had woken an hour from Visgamar and had ended the trek on his own two feet after seven hours on Kora’s back. He profusely thanked the two and had remained level-headed for the rest of the journey, somewhat because his fling with death had shrivelled his craving but more so because Orion had dumped his nuts in the swamp.

  * * *

  “Oh, Whytie. Another friend, aren’t you a magnet,” Maya said as she scrutinised the Rockskin head.

  �
��And a quick shot, apparently. This is the real deal; here’s your reward,” she said as she gave out five gold coins to Flynn and five to Orion.

  “Put three in my account,” Orion said.

  Maya nodded, then winked. “Don’t worry, I thought of a naughty reward for your next contract,”

  Flynn ignored them, and gave two of his gold coins to Kora, who giggled over Maya’s teasing. “Your help is worth more, but I hope you’ll accept this,”

  She smiled in response, before asking Maya how to become a Seeker.

  A few minutes later, the three Seekers stood outside on Hexham’s road.

  “Remember, The Honeyed Spitroast tomorrow night. My treat,” Flynn said, before leaving.

  Kora waved at Orion and disappeared down the road, saying she wanted to look around the city. While he could have helped her, it was almost night and his limbs felt like lead hammers, crude and heavy, but more importantly, he felt uneasy about how easy she seemed around him. He headed to The Little Sip, the cheapest inn in Visgamar, and paid five coppers for a night and food. He washed his filthy clothes, bathed, ate, and slept like a baby.

  The next day, he woke late to the sounds of grunting in the opposite room and a foul smell from the streets. He looked through the window and saw the sun was high in sky, the fog over Visgamar a paper-thin mist. The duo in the next room, maybe trio, came to a climax so he got to dress in relative quiet.

  Picking up his items, he left his bare little room and entered the bustle of the city. He bought elbow-pads, knee-pads, and a large med-kit from the market for 8 silvers. Then, he ate a hearty lunch, and spent the rest of the afternoon wandering the city. When the sky darkened, he arrived at The Honeyed Spitroast and waited by a table. The inn was much larger than The Little Sip, and there were burly bouncers guarding the entrances. Orion figured it was an inevitability with larger, grander establishments.