by Andrew Lynch
‘I wonder which came first,’ Darrius said. ‘Did the villains create the Heroes, or did the Heroes create the villains?’
Lucian dug his palm into his eye to try and get rid of the thoughts. ‘Let’s just focus on the executioners right outside this door. Then we can wax philosophical, okay?’
The slate door opened and the blue man stepped back through. ‘Right. You want to head straight through the arched doors at the end of the hall, okay? A few flights of very wide stairs should be clear, a bit of this, a bit of that, and you’ll come to where you need to be. Off you go.’
‘Wait,’ Lucian said. ‘You’re... helping us?’
‘Maybe I’m not. Maybe the guards are just round the corner waiting for an easy kill. Or maybe I’m just a Soulless who doesn’t really like violence, hence why I work with paper all day, and perhaps I want to give someone that is clearly not a Hero a chance.’
‘Well, thank you...?’
‘Vrurf.’
‘Thank you, Vrurf.’
‘One last word of advice. The way to the front door is also clear. I'd advise you go that way and never return.’ With that, Vrurf shoved the group back into the purple hall, and closed the door behind them.
Lucian stood stock still in the hall, the only sound the breathing of his group behind him. To his left were the arched doors, to his right, the stairs leading down and back out of this place.
‘I mean,’ Lucian said to himself, hoping for his group to hear and agree, 'that was probably all a trick. They just don’t want us to continue because they know how much havoc we can cause to their villainous schemes. Right?’
‘It is up to you, Lucian,’ Jess said. ‘We will follow your decision.’
Lucian turned and looked at them. They did not look confident. They were all twitchy in case the guards sprang up out of nowhere, and twitchy because they'd just been told that if they went through one particular pair of doors they would all die.
Lucian considered his options. One door leading to safety and freedom, the other to certain death. Well, that made it an obvious choice.
‘We take the arched doors,’ Lucian announced.
The arched doors had proven no issue, opening as Lucian neared them. As Vrurf had said, a veritable obstacle course welcomed them, filled with stairs, spiral stairs, broken stairs - all sorts of stairs - and lots more purple goo.
They had found plenty of areas where the executioners should have been posted or patrolling, but all had been empty of guards. They had continued unobstructed and eventually the tension at every corner grew too much - with no release of actually finding anything - that they finally asked their collective question.
‘Why are we walking to our death, boss?’ Khleb asked, electing himself as spokesperson for the group. ‘I mean, you know me, I’m with you. I’m with everyone here. Well, almost everyone.’ He stared at Jess, who didn’t even seem to realise he was speaking. ‘But certain death seems like the worse of the two options.’
‘Well, to anyone that cares–-’ Lucian looked at Jess, who actually responded by showing a semblance of interest in his answer. Presumably to judge it unworthy. ‘Vrurf was lying. Obviously.’
‘Really? How'd you figure?’
‘He seemed quite believable to me, sir,’ Darrius said.
‘Indeed, the Soulless' words had the ring of truth, Lucian,’ Jess said.
‘So, this is the villains overall headquarters, correct?’ Lucian began, ready to walk them through his thinking. ‘Let’s ignore the idea that villains have their own Company like Heroes do, which is clearly preposterous. Heroes are there to stop the villains. Villains are a natural occurrence in Humans.’ Jess coughed pointedly. ‘And others, yes, thank you. Villains don’t need help. Villains need stopping. No one has anything to gain by living in a world oppressed by tyranny. Heroism is what’s needed!’ Lucian realised he was getting ranty so swerved back on course. ‘So, anyway, it’s the biggest and baddest and best place they have, right? And yet, their “admin offices” were so obvious they made a door glow? No chance. Even Khleb, after being told the importance of such a place, would stop that light from leaking out. I mean, a draught excluder or something. Easy fix.’
‘It’s true. Even I would,’ Khleb said, proud that someone had finally noticed his carpentry skills. At least that’s why he assumed Lucian mentioned him, for his ability to hang a door properly.
‘Then he gives us some story that makes them seem like us? Relatable? Hah! Needless to say I saw straight through that psychological ploy.’
‘True,’ Gar said. ‘Did feel could relate to blue man.’
‘Then they tell us they've cleared the way, getting rid of the unbeatable guards for us? Implausible to say the least. I’ve met our admin guys, and I wouldn’t be able to get them to do anything so much as sign a requisition for a new hatchet in less than twenty working days. They just don’t care.’
‘There is truth in your reasoning,’ Jess admitted.
Lucian stopped, his team spread out on the wide spiral staircase. Completely impractical, Lucian decided, but then, he wasn’t a villain, so maybe he was missing some clever plan. He stopped to catch his breath, and the group happily took the respite.
Lucian banged at his thighs and looked at Jess.
‘Two thousand and seventy three,’ she replied.
‘Absolutely ridiculous,’ Lucian said. ‘Everyone rest for a minute.’
‘Maybe the sheer number of steps is a defence mechanism?’ Darrius asked. ‘Certainly it would have defeated me if I didn’t have something to take my mind off the burning in my legs. Odd how certain death can inspire you that way.’
‘Anyway. Glowing door, helpful assistant, and cleared the way to our ultimate goal?’ Lucian continued. ‘Makes no sense. If that had been it, then maybe, just maybe, I'd have chosen a tactical repositioning of our assets—'
‘Running away,’ Darrius said for Khleb, who nodded in understanding.
‘But then pointing out that we could run away? They overplayed their hand. Clearly it was all just a psychological defence. No doubt all of those rooms in the entrance hall could have been illuminated to play the right scenario for whoever turned up. Clever, I'll give them that, but not clever enough to get past me.’
The group thought on that for a moment. Jess, picker of holes in plans, spoke first. ‘Fair reasoning, but flawed. If it was just a diversion, why actually remove the guards?
‘Well... yeah, I had thought of that. I had expected we’d need to hide from executioners a lot more than we have. Which we could easily do, of course. Frankly, their helmets seem poorly designed for low light areas where peripheral vision would help.’
The group fell into silence, each dealing with the effects of so many steps in different ways. Jess remained standing and Lucian was positive that she didn’t even feel the physical effects the others did. Darrius and Gar stood, attempting to stretch their thighs, cycling through a variety of ridiculous yet practical poses. Khleb sat.
Lucian couldn’t think of a better time to ask his only question. ‘So, what is a Soulless? I’ve not heard of them before.’
‘They are creatures,’ Jess said.
‘He looked very Human,’ Lucian said, and then thought back to the man’s height, exquisite eyebrows, and long pointed ears. ‘Or Elvish.’
‘They are not Elves,’ Jess shot an angry look at Lucian. ‘They are murderers and beasts. Nothing more. A collection of creatures that have been twisted beyond recognition. You know nothing of them, because the Elvish lands lie between the Empire and the Soulless Wastes. We guard you against their terror.’
Lucian supposed that the icy blue skin of Vrurf did seem somewhat unElvish. Jess had a point there. She was clearly sensitive about this, so Lucian would have to tread carefully. He was wondering how to phrase his follow up question delicately.
Which was exactly when Khleb said, ‘He looked exactly like any Elf I’ve ever seen. Except for being blueish.’
Jess stomped,
as much as Elves can stomp, over to Khleb and jabbed his leg with her staff. Khleb responded by yelping, and dipping his hand in the purple goo, flinging it all over Jess.
‘Both of you, stop!’ Lucian could hardly believe he was having to scold his fully grown group members. Very heroic.
‘Lucian! He flung purple on me!’ Sure enough, Jess had a bit of purple goo running down her robe.
‘She stabbed me!’ Khleb’s defence was simple, yet solid.
‘Shhh!’ Darrius and Gar said in unison.
Everyone saw the wisdom in this advice, and the argument continued in hushed voices. ‘You will not stab another team member,’ Lucian said, wagging his finger at Jess. ‘Nor will you fling goo on them.’ The finger wagging swapped to Khleb.
‘Clearly it’s a sensitive subject, so we'll talk about it later. When we are all alive.’ Lucian hoped that the idea of being told off by him if they died might inspire them to live.
The following sullen silence was pleasant to Lucian’s ears because of the lack of armour clad footsteps in the distance. Their argument had gone unnoticed.
‘So... we could still turn back?’ Darrius asked.
Lucian thought about it. ‘We could. I won’t though. I also won’t hold a grudge if anyone wants to leave now.’
The only movement was Khleb digging away absently at the purple goop, and Gar and Darrius continuing to stretch. No one moved to leave.
‘I believe continuing is a foolish action, Lucian,’ Jess said after more silence. ‘Why do you push on?’
‘Because I’m a Hero now,’ Lucian said.
‘A Hero would throw himself to his death?’
‘A Hero would... do the heroic thing. Save the damsel, liberate the people, defeat the evil. This is exactly that. And the lower my chances, the more heroic it is. The more astounding it will make my win. Make me a real Hero.’
‘So this is a gamble. High risk, high reward,’ Jess concluded.
‘Playing long odds at that, boss. I’m with pointy ears on this one,’ Khleb said.
‘When the dregs of society and I agree—'
‘I need to do this,’ Lucian interrupted her. ‘This is what my entire life has been about. Being a Hero. I want to do the right thing.’
No one opposed this.
‘Let’s get moving.’
‘Uhh, can I get some help?’ Khleb said. ‘Can’t seem to move my legs after sitting down.’
A few more minutes of steps led to a plateau, and after a small corridor of twenty metres, a door. The door, to be more specific. The source of the purple goo that had filled their last hour of stair climbing - it flowed from a hole at the top of the door, running through intricately carved runes and unreadable scripture. The door glowed bright purple. It was a magnificent door, as doors go, but Lucian really couldn’t keep his eyes on it. Instead his eyes were drawn to the figure before the door. An executioner.
‘I guess we found the guards you two felt were missing,’ Darrius said to a stony faced Lucian and Jess.
The lone executioner remained motionless at the door.
Gar took his position in front, shield ready. Darrius and Khleb fell in behind him. Lucian and Jess off to one side. Normally Lucian didn’t have a chance to use his archery skills indoors, but with twenty metres and a clear line of sight, he decided he’d be a fool not to try a shot or two.
Everyone was ready, and Gar was about to charge.
‘Hold!’ Lucian said.
Gar did as instructed, almost tripping over himself to stop his inertia, but played it off by wedging himself deeper into his shield.
Lucian nocked his arrow, drew back his bow, sighted his foe, took a breath, and released. This was a simple recurve bow, so didn’t have the power of some larger versions, but even this smaller arrow with less power could pierce plate armour on a lucky shot.
This was not a lucky shot. The arrow ricocheted off the executioner’s breastplate, pinging harmlessly against a wall. Its head turned slowly to look at the wasted arrow.
‘I can’t be sure, sir, what with the distance and the helmet, but that looks like mild disdain,’ Darrius said.
‘Do not jump to conclusions, Darrius,’ Jess said. ‘Depending on their culture, that could have been amusement.’
‘Yes, thank you,’ Lucian said, and nocked another arrow.
He realised that any chance of damaging this metal monster would require a precision shot at a join in the armour. As long as the executioner decided his arrows weren’t a threat, he could end this with no casualties.
Lucian studied the armour as he would a puzzle. Curved, brushed metal plates made up most of the surface area, with raised black edges at every join, and a purple gilting. The haft of its giant double headed axe was wrapped in leather before revealing the black coated blade heads with a sharp silver edge.
It had to have several weak points - elbows, knees, palms, armpits - but the guard stood so none of these were visible at twenty metres. In fact, at twenty metres, Lucian was filling in the smaller details with his imagination. The only weakness he could see was the single curved eye slit.
‘There’s no way I can make that shot,’ he muttered under his breath.
‘Right. I’m going to fire on him until I get lucky or run out of arrows. He may decide to attack any time, so be ready with a counter charge,’ Lucian said, not needing to remind them how fast the guards outside had been. The group nodded.
Lucian drew his bow back and sighted for the eye slit. An impossible shot, the arrow needing to fly through sideways to be narrow enough to do damage and hit the face behind the steel.
The arrow whistled as it cut the air, and ended its whistle with a dull thud, hitting the door behind the executioner, who didn’t react at all.
‘Good shot, sir. It was close,’ Darrius said.
‘Yeah, boss. You’ll make the next one,’ Khleb added.
‘Good,’ Gar said.
Again Lucian drew the arrow, sighted, and fired. Again, it went wide.
Lucian shook out his shoulders and flexed his hands.
‘Perhaps I should—' Jess offered, but was cut off with a raised hand from Lucian.
‘Let focus,’ Gar said.
Jess huffed as Lucian drew another arrow. Lucian remembered the wolves. He’d never been too gifted with a bow, and every bit of skill he had only came through hours of hard practice. He hadn’t been thinking about killing when he hit that wolf. He’d been thinking of protecting his friends. No, they weren’t friends when the wolves attacked. They were just people. People he could help. People who gave him the chance to use his skills to grant them a better life. Even then he’d been living his dream, and he hadn’t even thought about it. He’d done what a Hero would do. He let his arrow fly, thinking of the good he could do, not of the person he could kill.
The executioner turned sharply, its feet planted in place, but its head whipping round to face the door, exposing its back. The group gave a small cheer under their breaths.
Lucian stopped thinking of saving his friends with a single, well placed, shot, and focused on what had happened. The arrow had hit its mark!
And yet the executioner still stood. It slowly turned back to face the group. It had all happened so fast, no one could tell if the arrow had actually penetrated the eye slit, but a small chip had appeared. A chunk of metal the size of Lucian’s thumb was missing from the right side of the helmet. A chip in the executioner’s armour, almost giving the appearance that it was crying.
It almost certainly wasn’t actually crying. It did however look angry. Not that anything could be seen in this new chip to show any emotion - the inside of the helmet still appearing as a black pit - but its walk was not a happy one. It was a fast walk though.
It stomped hard with each step, its very being intimidating. It was one thing to stand at the other end of a hall, the chance of ending the fight before it began strong in your mind, but now he saw this colossal steel monster bearing down on him, Lucian had the urgent desire to t
urn and run.
But he didn’t. He realised with a sinking feeling that he’d made a huge mistake continuing up the Apex Spires. He’d probably gotten all of them killed. The thought that his only contribution to revenge on their killer being a small chip to its eye slit, simply wasn’t enough.
He dropped his bow and ripped off his quiver. He pulled out his hatchet, and eyed the advancing executioner.
‘If it bleeds, it can die,’ he muttered to himself reassuringly. ‘The words of Warlord Og'thruk, just before vanquishing the first iron golem since the time of the Gods.’
‘Your arrow did not make it bleed. It may not be flesh, it may be a revenant,’ Jess replied. ‘Even dismantling the armour may not stop it.’
‘Okay. Then that’s your job. If it’s a spirit, banish it,’ Lucian said. ‘Everyone else, assume it bleeds.’
‘Didn’t Warlord Og'thruk have an entire army at his command, and end up having to tear down an entire building, and still lost both his legs?’ Darrius asked.
‘And a week later his second in command pushed him off a cliff, yes,’ Lucian shrugged. ‘But the sentiment was good. Let’s do this!’
Lucian motioned them forwards, and Gar obeyed. An inspiration, Lucian decided. The thought of running away clearly never even crossed the warrior’s mind. He’d fight and die for his friends.
He didn’t have long to be inspired, because the executioner had no intention of losing momentum with his charge, and sped up to meet Gar head on.
The executioner had a head of height even on the giant that was Gar, but Gar didn’t waver - he got his shoulder behind his shield and sped up. If he was prepared to meet the charge of a house-sized ogre, this would be nothing to the Karakian.
The clang of shield and axe rang out, and the two giants ground each other to a halt. Brute force against brute force, and Lucian had the most force a brute could have in his group.
But he also had finesse, and Darrius was right behind his friend, newly forged rapier in hand. Knowing it would be useless against the heavy armour, he used the momentum from the charge to pass Gar, ramming the pommel of his sword against the executioner’s helmet.