Curse of the Red Evil

by Zel Spasov

  “Bring the stew with carrots and cabbage,” Charles said, defeated. His ears had drooped down completely.

  The maid disappeared into the kitchen. The bartender continued to polish the glasses, unmoved by what was happening around him. As he observed him, Cayden was filled with a profound calmness. The man was so concentrated on what he was doing, as if there was nothing more important in the world. Perhaps there wasn’t. Why worry about events beyond your control? Cayden thought. It was enough to stand behind the bar and polish the glasses. Things would sort themselves out. The single purpose of the bartender was to pour drinks to his clients and to listen, only intervening with a wise insight or two. This was the art of bartending.

  Cayden’s train of thought was interrupted when the maid dumped two bowls and two dirty spoons on their table. Their content was a brown, semi-gelatinous liquid, in which large, unrecognizable chunks of food were floating, presumably the cabbage and the carrots. The maid also left two large beer mugs. The liquid in them was disturbingly pale, while the foam had an uncomfortable yellow color.

  Charles slammed his snout into the stew. His ears wildly flailed about, and the most unnatural sounds came from his mouth. Cayden looked at his dish with disgust. He picked up the dirty spoon and pushed one of the pieces with it. His stomach growled violently, reminding him that he didn’t have a choice. He cautiously put one of the pieces in his mouth. It wasn’t as bad as it looked. The taste was unrecognizable, but at least he was putting something in his belly. He quickly finished the stew, occasionally washing it down with the diluted beer.

  “So, those flying creatures in Agapea came from here?” he asked as he swallowed the last chunk of the stew.

  Charles raised his head from the plate. Stew dripped from his mouth.

  “They’re called wyverns,” he whispered. “Also, keep your voice down. Do you want to get killed?”

  “Remind me again why are we here?”

  “We have a rendezvous with our ally after sunset, when it’s dark,” Charles said. “Then we’ll discuss our further actions. We have to stay here until it’s time for the meeting. It’s too dangerous to go outside.”

  The suggestion to stay in the tavern was to Cayden’s liking. His mind and body needed rest. He yawned and stretched his legs under the table. The fear that had allowed him to stay awake until now was replaced by a deep fatigue. He could sleep for a week. After that, he would find a way out of here and go to some place safe. Why not? he thought. After all, why was it his responsibility to deal with the problems of others? So what if he was the king? Cayden had only awakened yesterday in this strange world where animals talked and sloths could stretch to the moon. It was too early to delve into the complex political relationship between the two cities.

  However, now that he was so close to meeting Mira and regaining his memories, he couldn’t just turn back, no matter how tempting it was.

  The Sloth started moving in his pocket. The little creature poked his head out, stretched his arms and legs, and yawned, and then he crawled up one of the free chairs and went back to his normal size. He looked at them with a mysterious smile.

  “I wish Jean were here, too,” said the Rabbit.

  Cayden felt sorry for the Frog, who had sacrificed himself to let them escape from the city. He had a debt to pay to him, and the thought didn’t leave him alone. He imagined the amphibian sitting in the same cell where they'd been together, alone in his little cage, trying to file his way out of there. He took a deep breath and banished the thought from his head. Not my problem, he repeated to himself. If only he could believe that.

  “He was always headstrong,” Charles continued. “He made us sneak into the palace to play with you when you were small. Your parents were so mad at us.”

  “My parents?” Cayden asked.

  “Yes, your mom and your dad ruled over Agapea before you became the king.”

  “Are they… still alive?” Cayden asked with a slight hope in his voice.

  “They passed away, may they rest in peace.” Charles looked sad. “They died peacefully, with smiles on their faces.”

  “Are there any pictures of them anywhere, maybe in a history book?” Cayden couldn’t let go. Maybe even seeing their portraits would spark up some connection in his brain and help him remember. “I just want to know who they were, where I came from.”

  “The history of Agapea’s kings and queens was recorded in the royal register, which was in the palace library,” Charles said. “It was filled with hundreds of books, containing all of Agapea’s history.”

  “It ‘was’?” Cayden asked. “What happened to the library?”

  “The Red Evil destroyed it along with the archives stored in it. Now all we have left are our memories of that time.”

  Cayden’s heart sank. For a moment, he’d thought that there was someone in this world who he was related to, someone who cared for him. Just for that second, he hadn't felt so alone.

  Charles saw his hurt and said, “Your parents would be proud of you. You’re a good man.”

  The Rabbit’s last sentence made Cayden feel uncomfortable. He would’ve liked to believe he was a person his parents would be proud of. At the same time, he wanted to abandon Jean, the Rabbit, and the Sloth, and that wasn’t something a good man would do.

  No, he couldn’t let his emotions get the best of him. He wasn’t going to let the Rabbit guilt-trip him into staying, not when he was so close to freedom.

  Cayden instinctively looked at the door. His hand slid into the pocket where he kept the ruby and grabbed it. Its warm, pulsating glow comforted him. He concentrated on the precious stone, making a wish to regain his lost memories. Suddenly, the throbbing in his head intensified. Terrible sensations in his body replaced the pleasant ones. His stomach contracted, and his head ached. “Come to me...” a voice whispered. “Come to me...” The words were followed by blood-chilling images—dead bodies covering the earth, Agapea and Windhaven in ruins. The devastation that Cayden had witnessed in the Windhaveners attack paled in comparison to what was to come. The Red Evil would suck the life out of every living soul. Cayden touched its anger, its thirst for death and destruction, and shuddered. It was like an ocean of pure evil. There wasn’t a drop of love or compassion in It. Even that short-lived brush with Evil chilled him to the bone and made him sick to his stomach. It surrounded him. The dark ocean threatened to swallow him, and there was no way out.

  “Cayden.” He heard Charles's voice in the distance. “Cayden!” came the voice again, this time more clearly than before.

  The image of the Rabbit replaced the blackness. Cayden removed his hand from the ruby, and the darkness disappeared.

  “Where did you go?” he asked. “You were staring into space with glazed eyes.”

  Cayden didn’t answer. He was too shocked by what he’d just seen. Besides, he wasn’t obliged to give him an explanation, especially since the Rabbit was also hiding things from him.

  Now, as he sat in the tavern, fear overwhelmed him. The Red Evil was an unbeatable foe, and its hatred was nothing like Cayden had ever felt. There was no way the Rabbit and his friends stood a chance against it and its army. Maybe Cayden could find a nice corner where he could hide until the war was over.

  The maid brought a stew for the Sloth as well, who promptly started eating it. The satisfied, slurping sounds coming from his snout filled the tavern.

  The stronger the pulsation in Cayden's head became, the greater his longing for freedom was. Simultaneously, he felt drawn to the palace, to Mira, stronger than he’d ever felt the pull of the Red Evil. His conscience started waking up, telling him he couldn’t just abandon the Rabbit and the Sloth. So many would die! Ah, to hell with that conscience guy, thought Cayden. He always gets me in trouble. But how could he live with himself, knowing that he would let so many innocent lives be destroyed? He wanted to think he was a man his parents would have been proud of, even if he didn’t remember them.

  He sat in the tavern, split betwee
n his two desires—to run away, or to stay.

  ***

  Varvara was horrified by her conversation with the queen. She’d hoped she’d be able to delay the war, giving her enough time to carry out her plan. Her failure had put the citizens of Agapea and Windhaven in jeopardy.

  But she’d just received a piece of important information that could be the key to stopping the war. On a small piece of paper lying on the table, the following message was written: Cayden is in Windhaven. The Simmering Cauldron. She had waited a long time for this news.

  Despite the urgency of the situation, she didn’t want to rush. She would wait until sunset to find Cayden. It was vital that his presence in Windhaven remain a secret to Mira. If she found out about him, her reaction would be unpredictable.

  The last months had been difficult for General Venari. With each passing day, the influence of the Evil on the inhabitants of Agapea strengthened, and the hope she had of returning to her home diminished. The fortress of Windhaven had become a refuge for those who’d fled Agapea, but it wasn’t a home. With its defensive walls, stone buildings, and steel fences, the fortress felt cold and inhospitable. The former Agapeans still carried the pain of losing their loved ones in their hearts.

  Ever since they’d arrived in Windhaven, they'd been preparing for the inevitable war with the Evil. Their lives were harsh; there was seldom enough food for everyone. After a lot of hard work, Mira and Varvara had established order in the city and were able to provide meals and shelter for all asylum seekers. During that time, they’d even managed to gather an army to defeat the Evil.

  However, the hardest pill to swallow for Varvara was watching her friend sink deeper and deeper into the abyss of hatred and vengeance. Despite all her attempts to help Mira cope with the tragedy, the queen's condition worsened continuously. A few weeks ago, she’d given orders to arrest everyone who came from Agapea in search of refuge, since all Agapeans were servants of the Evil. Varvara had advised her not to take such radical measures, but the queen hadn't listened to her. She was deaf to everything except her own anger. Varvara’s hope was that Cayden could help her see the truth. He was their last chance to stop the war before it was too late.

  There was a knock at the door of her office. A soldier entered the room and stood at attention. “General Venari, Queen Mira requires your presence in the armory.”

  Varvara nodded, and the soldier left. Why was Mira was calling her? Perhaps it concerned the quantities of chain mail. According to the reports she’d received, there were barely enough for all soldiers. Another reason to delay the war.

  When she arrived at the armory, Varvara found Mira putting on her silver armor with the help of two servants. The coat of arms of Windhaven was engraved on her breastplate—a white hawk with its wings spread wide, holding a snake in its talons. Armed and ready for action, the Queen’s Guard had assembled in the room.

  “I was right, Varvara,” said Mira when she noticed General Venari enter the room. Her eyes were sunken and bloodshot. “Cayden is in Windhaven!”

  “But how?” asked Varvara. What she really wondered was how Mira had found out so quickly. Her informants had notified her immediately when Cayden was spotted in the city.

  “We must act quickly,” said Mira. “We'll find him and arrest him. Varvara, at last we’ll bring him to justice! He’ll pay for what he did to us.”

  Mira was trembling. She smiled, but her smile didn’t touch her eyes.

  “We'll catch him,” Varvara said. It was important to convince Mira to stay in the palace. Varvara was afraid that if she faced Cayden now, her friend would be completely lost in her desire for revenge. “I'll take care of it. You're too important to put yourself in harm’s way.”

  “No,” said Mira. “I have to be there, Varvara. I have to see it. I want to look into his eyes, to make sure it really is him. I need to know.”

  Mira wasn’t going to back down. Varvara wasn’t either.

  “I’m responsible for your security, Mira,” Varvara said in a stern voice. “I cannot allow you to risk your life in such a reckless way. How can we be sure it's not a trap? We can’t—”

  “You can’t allow me!?” Mira said, growling. “Do you realize who you’re talking to? Your queen's orders are not a matter of discussion. You can either come with me or remain here, but stay out of my way. If you disobey me, the punishment is death.”

  Varvara had pushed her to the edge.

  “I'm going to arrest Cayden, Varvara. With or without you.”

  The last sentence was meant as both a statement and a threat. Varvara was torn between her sense of duty to her queen and the need to do what was right. If she obeyed her now, it would mean the end of Windhaven. Mira was leading her people to their ruin. There was no other logical choice for Varvara. Though the path she was going to take was a dangerous one, she felt she had to follow it.

  “Don’t do it,” said Varvara. “You’re making a mistake.”

  “Without you,” said Mira. Their relationship was irrevocably broken. “Stay here and take care of the preparations for the war. I want everything to be ready tomorrow morning.”

  Varvara nodded.

  “Come with me,” Mira told her elite guards. “We have a criminal to capture.”

  Mira exited the armory, leaving Varvara alone.

  ***

  Back in her office in Mercy Psychiatric Hospital, Persephone was coordinating the hospital staff’s efforts to break the patients’ barricade. She had sent Fraud, another patient who was under her control, to distract the rebels while she was preparing her attack. The diversion would also give Bernard more time to act.

  As the hours went by, Persephone felt weaker and weaker. Without the ruby by her side, her face was starting to show the effects of aging, which until now had been held back by the powers of the precious stone. She felt herself losing her stamina, having to take occasional breaks to gather her strength. If Angela found out she had lost the ruby, Persephone would be swiftly removed from her position and possibly executed. Although the thought of losing her life had frightened her at first, now she found it tempting. Her life had gone on for far too long, longer than anyone should ever live. This “gift” the ruby gave her came at a big price—it cost Persephone her humanity.

  The phone rang. Persephone didn’t need to look at the name that appeared on the display to know who it was.

  “Mercy Psychiatric Hospital, Doctor Dimitriou speaking,” she said as she picked up the phone.

  “Hello, Persephone,” said Angela’s voice on the other side. “I’ve just received troubling news about my brother. It seems that there has been an unfortunate development of events.”

  “It’s a minor inconvenience,” said Persephone. “I’m dealing with the situation as we speak.”

  “Are you? Well, that is good to know,” said Angela in a biting tone. “I trust things will be back to normal when I come to visit tomorrow. If they’re not, I’m afraid the consequences for you will be dire. I don’t need to tell you how important it is that no one finds out about this. We’re lucky that I sent in some additional help when I did—can you imagine the mess you would be in if it wasn’t for me?”

  “It was a wise decision, Miss Starosta,” said Persephone through her teeth. “Will that be all?”

  “Yes, I believe it will be,” said Angela. “I should let you get on with your duties. But remember this, Miss Dimitriou—I can take away the power that my family gave you at any point. Do not give me a reason to do so.”

  “Yes, Miss Starosta,” said Persephone.

  “Very well, it is good to know we’re on the same page,” said Angela and hung up the phone.

  Persephone’s whole body tensed up, her breathing becoming shallow and cold sweat breaking out on her forehead. She quickly wiped it with a tissue, desperately trying to restore her perfect image, however impossible a task it was without the ruby. She was simply falling apart.

  She walked out of her office and went up to one of the psychiat
ric technicians, who was waiting outside.

  “Call a meeting of the members.”

  “Of course, Miss Dimitriou,” said the orderly and walked away.

  She needed to gather every member of the organization currently at the hospital to remind them she was still in charge. She would need their full support to break the patients' barricade and get to Cayden.

  The Mercy Hospital complex consisted of several buildings within a plain landscape of grass and trees. Besides the main building, which was built with the sole purpose of treating the mentally ill, there were also the ruins of the old district hospital. When the construction on Mercy Hospital had begun almost fifty years ago, the original building had caught fire and was destroyed. The government had never rebuilt it, so its debris remained.

  Persephone exited the main building and headed for the ruins. The light of the setting sun had pierced through the stormy clouds for just a moment, bathing the exotic trees planted on the grounds and the wide stretches of grass in its red hue. She stopped for a moment and took in the breathtaking panorama of the countryside. The horizon was colored in red and gold, lending a quality of beauty and grandeur to the hospital grounds. It was all so quiet, thought Persephone, the warm rays of light gently touching her face. Like the calm before a storm. Then the sun disappeared behind the clouds just as quickly as it had come out.

  She entered the ruins. Inside was a hidden entrance to a basement, long forgotten by everyone except the Starosta organization. As soon as it had become clear that Cayden was being sent to the psychiatric facility, the organization had examined the landscape and found this convenient spot for meetings of its members.

  Persephone went down some stairs, lit only by candlelight. At the end, a corridor led to a large basement, also lit by candles. A murmur came from the room. The organization members, serving as psych techs in the hospital, had already gathered.

  Once more, weakness pierced Persephone through the stomach. She stopped and took a breath. She had to lean against a wall when she got dizzy and almost lost her balance. The world was spinning. After a few moments, the episode passed, and she could stand on her feet again. She fixed her hair and her glasses and tried to regain her impeccable appearance, but she couldn’t hide the fact that she was visibly aging. The wrinkles on her face were becoming more apparent; her voice, previously hard and cold, was now insecure and shaky.