As the Earthen Stag Walks (The Simulacrum Book 1)

by David Chesney

  Seelios focused his mind on the rejuvenation stone and felt it grow hot in response. The mana from the artifact leeched into his hand and flowed through his body like a river of sunlight. Strength returned to his injured leg as he felt his bone reattach and solidify. Use of the artifact was surprisingly effortless, even enjoyable, but the charged mana within it was quickly depleted. He let his mind release before it began to sap his own vitality, praying that it had been enough to mend him whole. He worked to decouple the splint and unwrap the bandages, revealing the raw pink skin beneath. A large, textured scar drew a vertical line down his left shin.

  Green light glowed through the cracks in the earth as an armored figure emerged out of the ground atop a rising column of rock, wielding a familiar rune-lit axe. A black scorch mark streaked across his face, making his enraged visage even more intimidating.

  Gregory raised the Lumastra and light began to gather within the orb. A boulder burst from the dirt beneath his feet and sent the disciple tumbling through the air, robes flapping wildly as he soared. He crashed through a wooden post that held up a shop’s awning and the light within the Lumastra dissipated. Blue canvas sagged to one side, hovering just over Gregory as he lay on the deck, unmoving.

  A hearty laugh boomed, echoing off the buildings. “It’s a pity to see one endowed with such power, yet still so weak and fragile.” The God of Earth leapt down from the column with a thunderous shake. His strides sent tremors through the ground with each step.

  Seelios circled the boulder as lines of green light began tracing over its surface.

  “Seelios,” Gregory said, his eyes wrought with pain. “I told you to run.” He looked over Seelios’s shoulder with concern.

  “The totem is your last hope. You must awaken it if you’re to escape,” Gregory said.

  “I can’t just leave you here like this,” Seelios said.

  “Your life is far more important than mine. Go, find the other disciples. Tell them who you are.”

  Seelios’s mind raced with panic and fear. He reached inside his pocket and grasped the teleportation totem. He tried to connect with it, but it was as if he were stumbling around in the dark of a strange room. He pushed harder to drown out the noise around him, and then he found it. A familiar ping of emotion came, as if he rediscovered something that was thought to be lost long ago. An intense exhaustion spread through his body, the little mana he had left draining away to the hunger of the sleeping artifact. The icy touch of death prodded at his vulnerable heart, making every beat weaker than the last.

  The hard fingers of the golem wrapped around Seelios and lifted him through the awning of the shop in an explosion of wood splinters and ripping fabric. Seelios struggled in the stony grip, dizziness taking over as the golem squeezed. He looked up at the sun blazing in the sky, expecting it to be the last thing he saw before being crushed to death. In his gaze, Seelios felt the sun speak to him. It didn’t communicate with words, but conveyed a certain feeling of realization, like an awakening of something that he already knew. He heard the familiar sound of his father’s voice.

  The crisp blue sky began to darken above and fade to a dusk hue. The bright disk of the sun was reduced to a mere glow, as if a heavy fog drifted in. On that sunny day, the entire town of Alnerwick was shrouded in a moment of enchanting darkness. If the people looked far enough, they could see traces of a blue sky only at the horizon.

  Seelios felt the warmth of the borrowed daylight enter his body and surround him, giving him a surge of vitality and power. He funneled it through his arm and into the totem. Beams of light shot from between the stone fingers that wrapped around Seelios.

  “Think of a place, any place other than here!” Gregory shouted with a raspy voice.

  Seelios’s blurred vision was replaced by something else. He suddenly saw himself as a young child again, being carried away down the river in a homemade boat. He saw the clearing where Garrick and his father found him. The world around him melted away into blinding light, and he felt himself weightless, soaring through the air. The light disappeared, and a forest floor rushed up at him. The ground met him with a violent impact and darkness came.

  10

  Three days of hard riding on the road wasn’t something Garrick was used to, doubly so without any provisions or proper travel equipment. Shortly after their flight from Fembleton, Garrick and Emeline thought it best to stay off the Trade Road and keep to the woods. Though their journey would’ve been considerably longer, it felt safer.

  Garrick attempted to snare animals to compensate for their lack of provisions, but with the blight scouring the lands, there weren’t too many animals in sight. They must have all fled to richer lands in the north where food grew in bountiful amounts. Garrick’s father used to say if they were ever in danger of starvation they could just travel to the northern water lands where the feasts were endless and the markets were plentiful. The blight also made it difficult to find edible herbs and mushrooms along the way, but Emeline didn’t let that stop her. It was odd that, despite the stories of the blight only being localized to Fembleton, they seemed to discover it wherever they went.

  In any other circumstance, it would’ve been Garrick’s dream to have so much time alone with Emeline; however, weary days turned into weary nights, and during a time of sorrow and grief, Garrick couldn’t find the courage to court her. Although, there were times Garrick swore Emeline didn’t seem to mind being with him. She held him tighter than necessary when riding, and one particular night she pressed close against him by the fire. Still, Garrick convinced himself that she was just cold and needed the extra warmth, nothing more.

  Barely any words were spoken when they left Fembleton, just muted silence and the occasional physical touch that sent Garrick’s heart aflutter. It was almost enough to distract him from his insatiable thirst for ale.

  They galloped through the forest, sure to keep the river in sight as it was their only guide. The closest place that Garrick could think to be safe was Paloise, as long as it wasn’t overrun with murderous rock creatures by the time they arrived. If Paloise had fallen, they could find shelter in another small village in the countryside, but they would be no more protected than they were in Fembleton. There was nowhere else to go unless Acorn grew a pair of wings and could carry them far away to another god’s territory, save for the Kingdom of Zelerum, the God of Earth’s domain.

  The canopy of the forest grew thin, and they emerged into a small clearing off the side of the river. Garrick’s breath drew short when he recognized the place. It was the same clearing where he and Ricker saved Seelios. He stopped Acorn and lingered at the tree line, taking in the place in its entirety. He looked out to the river and pictured a younger Seelios peeking over the edge of his boat, eyes filled with terror. Sadness came as Garrick thought of Seelios taken away by the rock monster in Fembleton.

  Garrick stood in the saddle and squinted at something laying in front of them on the river bank. A man in traveler’s robes lay face down in the sand, feet still in the shallows of the river as it lapped around his ankles. His arm appeared to clutch a sack bulging with its contents. The stringy white hair was unmistakable.

  “Fancy a wager as to who that man might be?” Garrick said.

  Emeline squinted into the distance and gasped. “I’m surprised that wretch made it this far.”

  “What happened back in Fembleton, he had something to do with it. How else would a man know to leave with such urgency?” Garrick sat back down in the saddle and trotted Acorn into the clearing, keeping a safe distance. He lifted his leg over the saddle and lowered himself to the ground.

  Cassius was sprawled on his stomach, sand covering his face. A wooden oar lay beside him.

  Garrick looked downriver and saw a boat bobbing up and down, stuck against two rocks that jutted out of the water. The river foamed and rushed in a dangerous rapid, the same rapid that threatened Seelios’s life years ago.

  Seelios had been right. The weight of all that coin probab
ly made it too difficult to navigate the river properly. Cassius must’ve got thrown from his boat and tried to swim to shore, still hefting his oversized purse. It was amazing that he’d even made it to shore with all that weight.

  “Do you think he’s still alive?” Emeline called out from atop Acorn.

  Garrick shrugged. “I know of a method that’s worked with me in the past.”

  He stood next to Cassius and gave him a hard shove with his foot. The old innkeep rolled onto his back as his arm flopped onto the sand, revealing a glistening crystal that hung from a leather cord around his neck.

  Acorn reared into the air and gave a terrified cry. Emeline screamed as she slide from the saddle and landed on the soft dirt. The horse pranced around, eyes wild with panic and fear. It made a series of motions that looked like it was desperate to get away, like the crazed dance of an animal that had suddenly gone mad. The horse turned and galloped toward the trees, back in the direction of Fembleton.

  “Acorn!” Garrick yelled, running after her, but it was no use. Before Garrick took three steps she had already disappeared through the foliage.

  He ran after her and continued to yell her name and whistle through his fingers. It wasn’t long before he could no longer hear the frantic pace of the horse racing through the leaves and brush.

  He came back into the clearing and walked up to Emeline. “Are you hurt?”

  “I don’t think so,” Emeline said, brushing sand off her arms and green dress. She ran her fingers through her thick, red hair and tried to shake out what she could.

  “Shit of a whore,” Garrick said through gritted teeth, glancing back to the trees. “Acorn was our only hope getting to Paloise. Gods be damned!” he yelled, kicking at the sand.

  Garrick yanked his sword out of its scabbard and turned an angry eye toward Cassius. “Even as a carcass this blasted man causes grief.” He stomped over and raised his blade into the air.

  “Garrick, stop!” Emeline said.

  “I’m going to hack this man into pieces and feed him to the fishes,” Garrick said. His eyes became transfixed on the crystal necklace around Cassius’s neck. It began to shine with a glowing red hue.

  “Wh—what? No, you can’t do that! We don’t even know for sure that he’s dead.”

  “Here’s how I know for sure,” Garrick said. He brought his foot back and kicked Cassius hard in the ribs, rolling him back onto his stomach.

  Garrick thought he saw Cassius grimace. He waited for a moment, then decided he’d imagined it. He turned to Emeline. “Did you see him move? I didn’t. Must be dead, and dead people don’t need nice things.”

  Garrick bent down and searched Cassius’s robes, desperately hoping to find a hidden flask. His heart jumped when his fingers felt something, but realized it was just the handle of a dagger. He was just about to give up and walk away when his eyes fell back to the crystal necklace in the sand. He stared at it for a moment, transfixed on the glistening jewel. It captivated him, pulling him deeper into its beautiful facets and, for a split second, he forgot where he was. He reached down and snapped it off Cassius’s neck with a sharp yank.

  Emeline walked up to Garrick and snatched the sword out of his hand.

  “Calm down, I’ll give it right back,” Emeline said, just before Garrick was about to protest. Garrick pocketed the crystal and watched her walk around to the other side of Cassius.

  Emeline polished a portion of the blade with her dress until it glinted in the sun. She squatted and brought the edge up underneath Cassius’s nose. A faint cloud of moisture appeared on the surface of the metal.

  “He’s still alive,” Emeline said, with an inflection of surprise. She stood and handed the sword back to Garrick.

  “Great. What are we to do with an unconscious villain?” Garrick said.

  “As much as it pains me to say this, we can’t leave him. It’s not right,” Emeline said with a frown.

  “You must be jesting with me. Can you be serious?” Garrick made a look of disgust. “This man has treated you, me, and everyone else in Fembleton like filth our whole lives.”

  “I know.” Emeline looked at Garrick. “But we’d be no better than the monsters that attacked our village if we left someone to die out here.”

  Garrick turned away and scoffed. “If it were up to me I’d remove his head and mount it on the tavern wall.”

  Emeline looked at Garrick with concern in her eyes. “I’ve never heard you so angry and resentful before. You should be careful before those feelings consume you.”

  “Perhaps they already have,” Garrick said.

  A tense moment of silence passed between them.

  Emeline shifted uncomfortably in her stance and looked to the trees. “What are we to do now that Acorn has left us?”

  Garrick pointed downriver. “The boat that Cassius was traveling in; if I can free it from those rocks, we may be able to use it.”

  Garrick grabbed the oar next to Cassius and made his way along the bank. He searched for the least treacherous path of exposed river rocks that led through the rapids.

  Water splashed and foamed around his legs as he carefully waded into the turbulent waters. He kept his knees bent and his arms outstretched, pulse pounding with fear as he thought about the danger he was putting himself in. One slip and he would be swept down river, carried away to his death.

  Garrick slid his foot forward along the river bed, feeling around with his foot to find a good place to hold before he shifted his weight. He wedged a foot, but as he began to move forward his balance shifted. He flailed the oar in his hand as the churning water threatened to take him down.

  A cry came from behind Garrick. “Be careful!” Emeline said.

  Garrick turned and saw her standing at the bank. Her brow was furrowed with concern and she fidgeted nervously with her hands. He flashed his best reassuring smile and turned back to the boat, just a few steps away. Water surged around the larger rocks that trapped the vessel on its side. Garrick just hoped it wasn’t damaged beyond repair. He inched closer, grabbed a jagged rock edge and managed to get a foothold without slipping. Rushing water tugged at his pants as he pulled himself out of the river. He stood triumphant, looking down at the water coursing around him. Just below his feet, the hull of Cassius’s boat scraped noisily against the stone.

  It was one of Fembleton’s small fishing vessels, built to float around their lake as more of a leisure activity than a means of traveling across Inf. Despite it’s design, it appeared to have suffered only minor scratches on the wood surface, from what Garrick could see. With the way the current trapped it against the rock, it was half submerged in the water. Garrick was concerned for the hull portion that wasn’t visible.

  Using the oar as best as he could, he pried the boat to turn it right side up. The oar bent, threatening to crack, but managed to tilt the boat enough for the water to take hold of it and twist its position until it was completely upside down. It wasn’t the end goal Garrick had in mind, but at least it was a step in the right direction. He pressed again with the oar, but only managed to push it away from the rock. It started drifting as the current took hold once more. A loud groan echoed off the trees while the wooden hull slid across wet stone.

  Garrick cursed as he dashed to the other side of the rock and, oar in hand, jumped into the river with a splash. When he surfaced, he nearly took the boat’s bow directly to his forehead. Emeline screamed as he jerked out of the way and the boat slid by him, brushing against his cheek. He choked on foaming water that splashed his face. His vision was blurred from river water stinging his eyes, but he managed to get a hold of a wooden edge before the boat slipped past him. He braced the oar against its side and forced it right-side up. His muscles strained as he hoisted himself into the boat, nearly capsizing it in the process. He landed with a sloppy thud in a tangled mess of waterlogged rope and fishing nets.

  Speeding down the river, Garrick sat himself upright and used the oar to paddle toward the shore. He felt the boat
scrape against the rocks of the shallows when he drew near the bank. Emeline came high-stepping into the river with a face scrunched up in fury and concern.

  “You scared me half to death! Why in heavens would you jump like that?” Emeline asked. She glared at him as she grabbed the side of the boat.

  “We were going to lose it,” Garrick said as he jumped down with a splash. “If I hadn’t leapt after it, the current would’ve taken it to Paloise without us in it.”

  Emeline pursed her lips and shook her head. “You nearly died. You would’ve left me all alone out here. Is that what you want?”

  “No, of course—”

  “Then think of me before you do that again!” Emeline’s lip quivered and she looked away.

  “I . . . I’m sorry,” Garrick said.

  They pulled the boat through the sand, the silence broken only by the occasional strained grunt. By the time they reached the clearing, Garrick’s back and arms ached like he’d been working the fields all day.

  Slumping down onto the ground to catch his breath, he looked over to Emeline. “Thank you.”

  Emeline threw him a sideways glance. “It’s not like I was going to let you pull that all by yourself,” she mumbled.

  “No. I mean, thank you for that, but also thank you for earlier.”

  Emeline raised an eyebrow.

  Garrick looked over at Cassius’s body. “I don’t know what came over me then. Sometimes I don’t feel like myself. But you . . . .” He looked at Emeline, who had turned to face him. “You help me remember what it’s like to be a good person.”

  A small smile spread across Emeline’s lips and she brushed a lock of red hair out of her face.

  “Not just now, but always. My life has been difficult, and I fear it’s only become worse. But when I’m with you I forget all that.”

  Emeline drew in a breath, her smile widening. “I’m glad.”

  Garrick looked at Emeline with his own smile. Despite just fleeing the massacre of their home village and having pulled a boat through a hundred feet of sand, she still looked as radiant as ever. He didn’t know what he would do without her.