Sliding out of Sari’s arms, the grinning immortal whirls around and pinches the gypsy on the nose. “You’re so cute when you ask questions. That smile alone deserves the truth, but I can’t say it until Nyx reveals them. There’s a secret down there. One that Gabriel created to torture my father. Big dummy didn’t realize that a person could simply avoid coming down here. Then again, there are the voices that wander the castle. My father never paid them any attention, so another big failure for the Destiny God. Blow the fog away, Nyxie, and you’ll see how sadistic our benefactor really is.”
Keeping her eye on Dariana, Nyx creates a powerful wind tunnel that sucks the emerald fog up the slide and into the upper hallways. The champions stare in horror at the thousands of bodies that have been stuffed and erected in a macabre village setting. All of the people have been eternally preserved by magic, which gives their bodies a ghostly outline. Clothed and posed as if going about their day, the people still sport the wounds that killed them. Limbs and heads that were removed in life have been tenderly sewn back on, the stitching colored to blend into the skin. Warriors have been arranged to either stand at attention or be in the midst of an attack from unseen enemies. Standing atop pedestals, deceased nobles show signs of having been poisoned and are left with their mouths partly open to reveal bloated tongues. Tents and huts have been placed in neat lines, the roads covered in dirt that shows only one set of ancient footprints moving around the entire room.
“Those were made by me,” Dariana announces, pointing at the tracks. A sneeze clears her head and she glances at her companions as if noticing them for the first time. “I’m sorry. The countless dead were more forceful than I remember. When I was a child, Stephen used to put me down here when I angered him. Since I lacked full control of my powers, the voices bombarded my mind to the point where I couldn’t even count how many were talking to me. My punishment would last for days or weeks depending on how long it took my father to see through the illusionary me that Stephen left in my place. This room would always be wiped from my memory, but then I’d be sent back. This is why I was handed over to the Zarian Temple at the age of four . . . or was it six. My father felt I was a distraction and my mother was on the verge of violently breaking the Law of Influence on my behalf. I think I was put back here when I was older and living with my father again. My memories have gotten so muddled after getting wiped and rearranged so often.”
“What is this place?” Delvin asks as he walks over to a ladder. He shudders and turns away once he spots a collection of kids posed to dance in a circle. “There are women and children down there. Gabriel couldn’t have killed these people for the sole reason of placing them in the Baron’s basement. Judging by the number of bodies, the Law of Influence would have had him sealed for eternity.”
“He killed some when he worked for my father,” the telepath explains as she climbs into the pit. Dropping off the ladder, she wipes dust off an old man while waiting for the others to join her. “All of these people were either killed by my father or his soldiers when he was a mortal warlord. There were a lot more warriors than what you see here, but even this castle has limited space. Gabriel focused on the slaughtered innocents, more memorable enemies, and the betrayed nobles. He couldn’t use anyone who my father turned into a gold statue that he placed around his fortress. Really makes one wonder how a single man could be responsible for so much death and misery.”
“You are taking this far too well,” Luke says while he gets a closer look at a swordsman. He jumps back when he hears faint moan and prepares to draw his sabers. “These people are still alive. They aren’t speaking or moving, but they’re making noise. You can’t tell me that was air escaping their lungs since they’ve been here for centuries.”
Rubbing her arms, Dariana runs her hand along the man’s cold face and imagines that she sees tears forming in his eyes. “There is nothing to worry about. All of these people died long before the Great Cataclysm. You are hearing the trapped spirits asking for release. Gabriel placed them here to torture my father. It was in the Destiny God’s early years, which was when he was most vengeful and still acted like a short-sighted mortal. How was he to know that the Law of Influence would stop him from freeing them once his plan failed? Not much of an excuse though. There are stairs on the other side and they are designed to always be there, so please follow me. No reason to be careful. Knock a body over and they’ll return to their original position by morning.”
“I am not going through there!” Sari declares from the bottom of the ladder. Refusing to move, the gypsy has prevented Delvin and Nyx from reaching the ground. “Nope. This is creepy, disturbing, and plain wrong. I’ll fly over the place with my eyes closed, but I’m not talking a walk through a collection of the Baron’s victims. Especially since their spirits are still inside them.”
Luke yelps and scrambles away from a nearby tent where an old woman is stirring a pot of soup. He swears the body is moving and that its head turns to him with vacant eyes. Banging into the warrior, he dives to the side to avoid getting grabbed by spectral arms. More of the victims move and shuffle toward Luke, their whispering voices begging him to grant them a living form once more or set them free. Sensing that his shaman powers are making him a target, the half-elf sprints for the ladder and swiftly clambers up his friends to put them between him and the moaning horde. Clinging to the rungs, he closes his eyes to avoid seeing the nobles turn in his direction and beckon for him to climb their pedestals.
“It seems anyone with spirit channeling powers is at greater risk than telepaths,” Timoran states as he listens to Luke’s faint mumbling. He watches the bodies for signs of movement, but they remain eerily motionless. “One can only wonder what would happen if there are casters out there too. This feels more like a trap than a proper path. I must point out that we cannot go back the way we came, so how do we proceed?”
“Don’t even think about suggesting necrocasting,” Nyx announces while dropping to the floor. Placing a hand on one of the children, she tries to sense the trapped spirit and finds it very elusive. “Okay, that might be an option since it isn’t exactly beyond me. Even with it being so difficult to locate their energy, I would have to go one at a time to send them to the afterlife. That doesn’t guarantee I will get it right since that’s more of a holy spell. Considering time is short and Gabriel did this, the best I can grant these people is a release from their suffering. That’s nothing more than oblivion, which doesn’t feel right.”
Massaging her temples, Dariana considers the option and listens to the begging voices that poke at her psyche. “After so many years, I believe they would accept full destruction over remaining here. This is very sad since they had been in the afterlife prior to Gabriel trapping them here. It was not a breaking of the law since they agreed to his request, which makes the situation more miserable. A final mistake that cost them the freedom that every living creature gains upon death.”
“I think I can do something,” Luke groans while climbing back down. With his back pressed against the wall, he watches the victims turn their faces toward him. “A focused spirit channeler can send ghosts back to the afterlife. I’m more of a warrior, but I can do it if Delvin gives me a power boost. Don’t ask how I know this will work. The voices are saying it, which is why they’re so interested in me. I’ll let you guys choose if it’s me or Nyx who does it. Both options might clear the way.”
“Doesn’t hurt to give Luke a chance,” Delvin suggests with a smile. Rubbing his hands together and blowing on them, he gathers some of his energy in his palms. “Keep in mind that I’m going to be stopping this if it gets too dangerous. If it fails then Nyx will do what she has to do and Dariana can help me purify Luke. Timoran and Sari, I’d like you two to get back on that ledge and keep a lookout for anything strange. Last thing I want is for these bodies to awaken and swarm us without warning.”
Nyx leads the way back up the ladder, the channeler blowing a lucky kiss to her fiancée and little brother. Del
vin waits for his friends to reach the top before easing part of his aura into Luke. Untrained in magic, the half-elf gurgles and twitches from the unexpected rush and pressure that centers on his lungs. The instant he opens himself to the victims, their spirits flood from their preserved bodies and converge on the forest tracker. Delvin watches the ghostly forms flicker into view while the corpses rapidly rot into piles of dirt and bone chips. He gradually increases the amount of energy he is giving to Luke, who has begun transforming into the deceased. Rapidly shifting from one person to another, the half-elf’s voice is a cacophony of screams and wails. With a final shout, the forest tracker emits a beam of white that turns into an open door on the ceiling. The spirits flow toward the afterlife, but their departure threatens to take the two champions’ exposed auras with them. Struggling to remain conscious, Delvin is about to pass out when he feels his energy being shoved back into his body. He looks back to see Nyx staring at them, her eyes rimmed with fiery magic as she turns herself into their anchor. All three champions fall to their knees as the last of the spirits are freed and the village crumbles into large piles of dust.
*****
The champions are nearly blinded when they enter a beautiful indoor garden that is tended to by bat-winged fairies. A prismatic ceiling lets in the red-tinted light from the Chaos Void and filters it to imitate healthy sunrays. Gurgling streams crisscross throughout the circular room, which has a winding cobblestone path leading from one door to a solitary window. The walls have been painted to resemble the land outside of Gaia, an illusionary effect making it seem like the trees are real. Butterflies flit among the colorful flowers, but they are nothing more than intricate machines created by the Fortune family. The fake insects gather around birdbaths that have been filled with a regenerating oil, which prevents their joints from locking. Living fish are within the water and dart among the rocks where they feed off worms and tadpoles. Frogs can be heard nearby, the tiny amphibians remaining out of sight and moving only when they are sure nobody is watching.
Walking along the path, the champions keep their weapons drawn and resist the temptation to relax. The pleasant scents would normally put them at ease, but after the horrific sights of the basement, they cannot imagine such a place exists in Vir’s Castle. They cannot shake the feeling that this is a trap, which is what Sari focuses on finding as she takes the lead. Keeping away from an old well made of white stones, they make their way to the window, which they hope will help them escape. With no other doorway, they are unsure of where to go and fear that they made a wrong turn. Going back down makes no sense to them since Dariana repeatedly swears there is nothing beneath the basement. The arched ceiling makes them feel like they are now near the top of the castle, which is especially unnerving since it only took a minute to get up the rough-hewn stairs.
“It looks like we’re in a tower,” Sari says as she stares out the window. With the main keep’s roof below, she pushes on the frame to see if it will open. “Looks like this is built into the wall, so it won’t budge. Not unless Timoran makes a hole, but there’s no telling what this crazy place will do if it’s injured. That well might be our only choice.”
“There is no way I can fit down there without magic,” the barbarian replies, the idea of being shrunk again making him shudder. Bending down to touch the water, he finds it cool to the touch and licks a drop from his fingers. “This is safe to drink. Such a strange place to find here considering the creator and current owner. Reminds me of an oasis. If this was made by the Baron then it could be a sign that he has retained some of his humanity.”
“Doubt that after what we saw,” the gypsy retorts while checking the walls. Running her hands along the painting, she carefully steps over the plants in case they are covering traps. “I don’t think this is going to help us much. A door to the outside will lead to us plummeting to our deaths or, more likely, a lot of injuries. The answer has to be with that well. What does everyone else think?”
With fire covering her fist, Nyx whirls around and punches Luke in the face. The forest tracker stumbles away and is about to draw his swords when Dariana kicks him hard enough to break his arm. Getting one of his sabers free, the half-elf attempts to gut the telepath, but is laid out by Delvin’s shield hitting him in the head. Before Luke can recover, a plume of lightning erupts from below and launches him across the garden. He lands on his feet and snaps his broken bones back into place, the noise making everyone cringe. Unfazed by the assault, the half-elf sprints toward Sari, who is confused about why her friends are fighting. She is about to tell Luke to stop when Dariana leaps in the way and delivers a punch that sends the warrior bouncing into a stream. Growling like a cornered animal, the forest tracker gets to his feet and effortlessly traps Delvin’s sword between his sabers. He is about to slash the other champion’s face when the shield comes spinning towards them and slams into his head. Momentarily stunned, Luke is unable to avoid getting shot in the chest by Nyx’s fiery arrow.
“Did you really think one of us wouldn’t notice you?” the channeler asks as her spell falls out of her best friend’s flesh. She gets a barrier up in time to block the forest tracker’s speedy attack, his abyssal eyes glaring at her. “Luke has never had the ability to send spirits to the afterlife. It’s a shaman skill, but one that takes years to master. That’s for someone who is focused entirely on spirit channeling, which isn’t my little brother. Champion or not, it shouldn’t have worked. Only reason I went along is because it sounded suspicious. Then, you let me get a taste of your real aura. Now that was plain sloppy and disappointing for a man who makes the gods quiver in fear.”
“The real disappointment is that none of you caught me earlier,” Luke retorts, his body and clothes changing while he stands. Shedding his borrowed form, the Baron wipes the remaining illusions off his dark blue shirt and delivers a polite bow. “Imitating such a simpleton was fairly easy, but one serious check of my mind or aura would have revealed me. My former captive was briefly separated from you upon your arrival and you never thought of making sure he is the real one?”
“That’s if you let me save the real one in the first place,” Sari interrupts, throwing a dagger at the Baron. The weapon is caught and whipped back at her, the gypsy narrowly leaning away from the blade. “Your prison is breaking, so you could have used part of yourself to create a fake. That would explain why I can see through parts of you now. Nothing more than an illusionary double.”
The warlord is about to bow when he darts forward and floors Sari with a punch to her stomach. “Close, but still far off. Yola Biggs did let you save the real Luke, which was her final failure. I merely left a scrying spell inside of him, so I could check on your progress. To make space, I kept a tiny piece of his soul with me. An unexpected side-effect is that the rest of him became terrified and paranoid. He truly hates and fears me, but that was amplified by me . . . needling the part he unknowingly left behind. Deep down, he knew I was still torturing him. I was lucky that he came through the portal first and I had a chance to make a bigger switch to keep him under control. Otherwise, Luke’s senses would have led you right to my dining hall and you would not have removed more layers of my curse. I could have done it myself, but I have been far too busy mourning my fallen agents. It is a shame that I will achieve victory with none of my loyal servants by my side.”
“The victims in the basement weren’t only a punishment, but a physical medium for the curse,” Dariana states, pounding her fist against the wall. A muffled yell catches her attention, the voice drawing her a few steps closer to her father. “I don’t understand the switch. There wasn’t that much time between Luke’s arrival and our own. He should have put up some resistance, but we found him unscathed. Your thoughts are a jumble of ideas, so I can’t be certain if you’re lying or not.”
“The gypsy already saw that part of me is an illusion.”
“I remember, which is why I’m suspicious.”
“And what do you think I have done?”
“You always preferred causing mental anguish over physical agony.”
“Leave it to a telepath to see the trick behind the trick.”
The Baron leaps away from his daughter’s kick, but she quickly plants her foot on the nearby well and flips up to his face. She comes within inches of landing a blow before she is backhanded across the garden. Landing in his original spot, the warlord yawns as he parries Delvin and Timoran’s swings. His slender rapier has no trouble against the larger weapons, the ringing blows acting like long lost music to his ears. Spinning around, the Baron flips Delvin over his shoulder and catches one of Sari’s daggers. He tosses the weapon into a rosebush and casually bats the next one out of the air like it is a hovering insect. Turning to face Timoran again, he smirks at the sight of Nyx standing in the barbarian’s place. Flames roll off her body as she attempts to unleash an inferno at point blank range. Unlike the physical attacks, the blast is strong enough to push the Baron back until he is standing within one of the streams. The water freezes around his feet and the ice creeps up his legs, the immortal’s muscles fighting against Sari’s magic.
“Go ahead and strike a final blow,” the Baron says, dropping his rapier. Holding out his hands, he shows no sign of resistance as the champions approach. “I am nothing more than my master’s shadow. Defeating me should not be a challenge to those with the power to defeat a former, manipulative god.”
The Baron’s smile fades when he sees Delvin and Nyx back away, the pair moving to flank Sari. He turns to face Dariana and shout, but the telepath is busy changing her shirt and ignoring the battle. It is only when a large shadow covers him that the fake warlord realizes that he has been made to forget about Timoran. A trick that would never work on the real Baron, it has left him open to a crushing blow from the barbarian. He leans back to accept the great axe, but is jarred by the sensation of a meaty fist punching into his back. With the tearing of ghostly flesh and spurting of ephemeral blood, Timoran rips Luke out of the double’s body, which becomes a stumbling husk. The forest tracker is unconscious and naked, his skin covered in a thin layer of slime.
Warlord of the Forgotten Age Page 23