by Pirateaba
Of course, she’d met Teriarch too. She stood up. Zel looked at her.
“If there’s anything else you need to know, I’ll tell you what I can. But I can’t help beyond that. I’ve caused too much trouble for everyone already. And I can’t do anything. I’m not a fighter. I’m no hero.”
The Drake looked at her sympathetically and shook his head.
“Don’t blame yourself for everything. You couldn’t have known what was going to unfold. You took a job and the Necromancer made you pay for it. But you couldn’t have known.”
“Maybe.”
Ryoka looked away. She gripped her arms tightly.
“Maybe you’re right. But it’s still my fault. Do you understand that?”
“Of course.”
—-
There were others to tell, and some of the meetings were painful. Others simply sad. Lyonette slapped Ryoka, and then fell into her arms, weeping. Mrsha bit Ryoka gently, crying, and then licked her and hugged her.
The Horns of Hammerad listened to Ryoka’s explanation of her guilt, not understanding, silent. Pisces’ eyes were shadowed. Ceria shook her head. Yvlon looked at Ryoka with something like understanding in her eyes. She understood Ryoka’s pain. Ksmvr just looked at Ryoka, uncomprehending.
The sun rose overhead. It was midday, and warm. The snow was melting outside, although it was still so deep that the water just froze into ice and created a crust on top of snow that was six or seven feet deep in some places, deeper in others. Much deeper.
Ryoka was packing. She took her belt pouch, her bag of holding, her backpack, and nothing else. There was nothing else to take. She walked towards the door to her inn and looked around for Erin.
The [Innkeeper] wasn’t there. But someone else sat at a table, staring around in mild bewilderment. Teriarch in his Human form stood up when Ryoka approached. She stared at him.
“I thought today might be more appropriate to speak. Shall we walk?”
They left the inn, walking atop the melting snow as if it were as solid as rock. Teriarch strode along, a vision of perfection, as Ryoka looked at him.
“Why are you here?”
“To apologize once more. I—perhaps only that. I do not know.”
The Dragon’s lined face was shadowed as he stared around Liscor and the quiet landscape. Ryoka looked at him.
“Just for that?”
“You were right. I owe you a debt. I asked you to send a letter to the Necromancer and did not think of the cost. For that I erred. And I am sorry. I would…ask your forgiveness.”
“Ask the dead for forgiveness, then.”
Ryoka turned away. Teriarch paused.
“If I could.”
There was genuine emotion in his eyes. Rather than look at it, Ryoka turned away. She stood on the snow, jumped up and down, to see if it would break under her enchanted weight. It didn’t.
In the silence, Teriarch looked around.
“It’s so bright. So full of life. I had forgotten what it was like.”
He whispered quietly. Ryoka glanced about and saw only a few birds flying through the sky, the snow, distant shapes on the city walls. She shook her head. After a while, Teriarch spoke again.
“I wished to tell you something else. I do not believe she is dead.”
Ryoka turned.
“Who? Ivolethe?”
“Yes.”
The Dragon nodded gravely. Ryoka felt her heart quicken. It was just ice that had broken. Ivolethe was more than just an animated bit of ice and frost.
“You mean that was only her physical form? She might come back? She—”
He shook his head and she fell silent.
“Her mental form was destroyed. But I do not believe her soul, her spirit was. Yes, I believe she is alive. Her King is not that cruel. And he does not have many subjects left, or so I understand.”
“Her King? You mean…the King of the Faeries.”
She couldn’t imagine someone like that. A faerie king? But Teriarch nodded.
“Yes. He has many names. I have never met him, nor anyone who has. But for as long as Frost Faeries have come here, there are rumors. He has many names. The Lord of the Glades. The Walker of the Forests. The Eldest. The fae have their King and they obey his laws.”
“Ivolethe didn’t.”
Ryoka choked on the words. Teriarch nodded again.
“He makes laws and his subjects play with them. That is natural. But to break them—she was punished. But not killed, I think. Just banished from this world.”
“For how long? A year? A month?”
Hope, and disappointment. Ryoka saw the answer before Teriarch spoke it.
“Forever? No, again, perhaps not. But a thousand years, ten thousand…it would not be a short amount of time. The fae do not think of time as we do. And their King would punish Ivolethe for her sins.”
“For so long?”
Ryoka felt tears in her eyes. Teriarch nodded.
“The punishment for those who grow too attached to the world is never to see what it will become. I do not know if it helps or not.”
“It does. A bit. Thank you.”
Ryoka wiped at her eyes. Teriarch nodded.
“As for the rest, I sensed no undead of Az’kerash’s make anywhere about the city. I believe you are safe, and that he will honor his word.”
“So it’s over? Just like that?”
A hint of anger began to stir in Ryoka’s chest. She turned towards Teriarch angrily.
“What did everyone die for, then? What was the purpose of them sacrificing themselves? Were they all just—just accidents? Ivolethe, Brunkr, Ulrien—”
People had died when Venitra unleashed her [Mists of Madness] spell in Celum. The Horns of Hammerad had helped knock out people, but there were still tales of tragedy, people murdering each other in the madness of the spell. Ikriss had destroyed buildings, set fire to them with people inside. Teriarch shook his head.
“I cannot say. They died fighting. Some died by accident. And there will be no resolution, no retribution for the crimes committed here. I would have crushed the undead mockery that intruded in my domain, but if I had, Az’kerash might not have left you or your friends alive.”
“So you’ll let him get away with it? Just like that?”
Ryoka turned to Teriarch, raising her voice. He looked at her, his two mismatched eyes sad and tired.
“What would you have me do? Retaliate? Destroy his castle, destroy one of his servants? Cremate an undead servant of his for every life taken? I do not know if I could, and if I did, it would surely mean war between the two of us.”
“And you don’t know if you can win, is that it?”
This time, the Dragon stared at Ryoka and she felt dwarfed by his presence. His voice was calm, deep, and old.
“Yes.”
She looked at him. He looked away.
“He is a gifted necromancer. And he has many spells and artifacts. More than that…he was not always an enemy of the living. You do not know his past. I do. I knew his triumph, his fall, his betrayal and wrath. I witnessed it all over the centuries. Who am I to judge him?”
“A Dragon. You’re a Dragon.”
“Yes. Does that confer any gift of reason to me? I think not. Once, my kind ruled Drakes like slaves and fought bitter wars with every nation on the globe. Were we right to do so then? I wonder. Az’kerash and I are not enemies. Nor are we friends. He does not interfere with me or those under my protection. And I…do the same.”
Ryoka turned away, disgusted. Teriarch looked at her. Then his head rose. He turned. And Ryoka heard something on the edge of hearing. She raised her head.
“No. Not now.”
It was a reverberation, a thump, an impact. A drum. It carried across the plains, reverberating. A single sound, which made the birds in the sky scatter, and the people on the walls of Liscor look up. And then it came again.
Doom.
It was a drumbeat. And then another. A steady booming rhyt
hm began to sound. Ryoka turned to the walls of Liscor and heard the people there start to blow horns in alarm. And the drumbeats rolled on.
Doom. Doom.
The sound was a physical presence. The drumbeats rolled off the hills, a distant thunder. Both Teriarch and Ryoka turned. It was coming from the south. And as Ryoka’s chest constricted, she knew.
“The Goblin Lord.”
“Yes.”
She turned to him, desperate.
“Do something! His army’s coming here!”
“He will pass by the city, I think.”
“It doesn’t matter! You have to do something! The Goblin Lord will destroy everything in his path! He’ll kill people! You have to—”
Again, Teriarch cut her off.
“What would you have me do? Burn them? Destroy their army?”
“Yes!”
“No.”
The Dragon shook his head as Ryoka stared at him. She punched at his chest and he caught her hand effortlessly. He let go of her gently. He looked wretched. And old.
“If I did, then what? One threat would be eliminated, yes. But what about next time? Goblins exist, Ryoka Griffin. So long as they live, there will be Goblin Lords, Goblin Kings. And monsters exist. Would you have me destroy all of them? Every creature that might threaten Human lives? What about Drakes? What if your species went to war, as you do?”
Ryoka opened her mouth. Teriarch went on.
“What then? Should I judge which side is right and destroy the other? Or seal them from attacking each other with a spell? I am no tyrant. But it seems that to save anyone, I must become one. No. If I move for one case, I should do the same for all. And I will not.”
“But they’re right here. In front of you! If you see something evil happening in front of you, what’s your excuse for not doing anything?”
Ryoka stared at Teriarch. He could stop it all. The Dragon looked back at her and shook his head again.
“Stop what evil? I see no evil.”
“The Goblins—”
“Are a people like your kind and mine. They are as innocent as any race. Perhaps more so than others. That they are considered monsters is no fault of theirs. How else would a species hated by all others survive, if not to become the thing they are hated for? No.”
“They killed. I saw them. They killed Mrsha’s tribe. They killed children.”
Ryoka sank to her knees in the snow. She was crying again. Teriarch bent over her. His hands were warm.
“Yes. And I am sorry.”
For a long time they stood there, an old Dragon and a young woman. One with all the power to change things and the other with nothing at all. Then Ryoka stood.
“I’m leaving.”
He was surprised.
“Where to?”
“Anywhere. Not here. Not with the Goblin Lord—”
“What about your friends? Those you want to protect?”
Ryoka shook her head. She felt so, so very empty.
“They don’t want me. Not right now. And I don’t deserve them. It feels like every time I get involved with them, they die. So…I’m leaving. I can’t do anything anyways. I’m too weak.”
She turned and began walking back towards the inn as the Goblin Lord’s drums beat on. Teriarch walked with her.
“Just like that? Where will you go? What will you do?”
“What I’m good at. Run. And I’ll do it somewhere far from here, where the only person I can get killed is myself. Somewhere where the wind blows strong. Far away.”
She felt the Dragon hesitate. He walked next to her, staring down at Ryoka. She stopped at the inn and looked inside. Erin was serving the Horns of Hammerad. Ryoka put her hand on the glass and turned away. Teriarch watched her walk over to the door and put her hand on it.
“You are going now?”
“Yeah. I’m going to go to Celum and…somewhere else. I know you don’t want to be seen. So—goodbye.”
She turned to him and held out a hand. Teriarch touched it gingerly. He took her hand and shook it.
“I am sorry.”
“Sorry doesn’t fix things.”
“No.”
The Dragon’s gaze was distant. He looked into the inn and shook his head.
“It does not. But what else should I be?”
She had no response. Slowly, Teriarch stepped away. He bowed to her, his eyes deep, looking tired.
“I will not say we will not meet again, Ryoka Griffin. I only hope that it will be a better day when we do.”
He vanished. Ryoka bowed her head. A shadow suddenly covered the inn. She looked up, but saw nothing. Nothing but the sky, and a sudden breeze. The shadow travelled north, moving slowly, and then at incredible speed. Ryoka shook her head.
“Lazy invisibility spell.”
Then she went inside and said goodbye.
—-
In Az’kerash’s castle, ashes still filled the corridors. Black soot and melted rock heralded the Dragon’s fury. And in his private sanctum, the Necromancer expressed his displeasure in his own way.
“Venitra. You have failed me. Your decisions have led to this moment, and your mistakes have cost me dearly. You have lost my favor. You are no longer first among my servants.”
His words were calm, quiet, and struck the burnt and badly damaged woman kneeling before him. Venitra would have wept if she could. She bowed her head, despairing beyond words. Az’kerash turned away from her and to Ijvani. The black skeleton shuddered, trembling before her master’s wrath.
“Ijvani. You likewise have failed me. There is nothing more to say.”
She bowed her head, the blue flames in her eyes dimming until they were nearly extinguished. Az’kerash turned to the three other servants gathered here.
“Kerash, I give you my authority. Do not betray it.”
“Yes, master.”
The undead Gnoll stood tall. Az’kerash nodded. His eyes swept across his five servants and he shook his head.
“Perhaps it is time to add to your number. A new servant…perhaps. I will consider it. For now, there is much to do. Teriarch’s fury cost me a great deal of resources, not least of which is the scrolls of [Greater Teleport] that were incinerated in his fury. But that is the least of my concerns.”
He turned back to a map of the continent and his servants raised their heads, save for Ijvani and Venitra. Perril Chandler’s voice was musing, thoughtful.
“Ryoka Griffin is no longer a concern, or at least, one I cannot resolve. But Zel Shivertail and the Lord of the Wall…they may be a problem. So too might the Slayer and the Small Queen. I will take steps to remedy them. Perhaps my apprentice can deal with them. That is a concern. Information about my existence may spread. If so, I will take steps. If my discovery is unavoidable…”
He fell silent. His fingers drummed rapidly on the map. And then slowed. To everyone’s surprise, a smile slowly spread across Az’kerash’s face.
“But there is one unexpected boon. One, among all the loss.”
“What is that, master?”
Bea flinched when he turned to her. But the Necromancer just smiled.
“Why, my enemy of course. Teriarch, one of the greatest obstacles to my conquest has revealed his weakness. Another one, should I say. And it is Ryoka Griffin.”
“The Runner? But—”
The undead glanced at each other, remembering the Dragon’s wrathful fire and trembling at the memory. Az’kerash flicked his fingers dismissively.
“I will observe her. I will not interfere directly of course, but I will…hope that she survives.”
“Why, master?”
He smiled.
“Because she is Teriarch’s weakness, of course. And unlike Magnolia Reinhart, she is far less well protected. And he cares for her. Perhaps only enough to intercede. But in time, perhaps more? It matters, Bea, because Dragons have hides stronger than diamond, and hearts softer than snow.”
She looked up at him, uncomprehending. He bent, caressed he
r rotten face and kissed her gently. She shuddered, and the other servants looked at her with envy.
“It does not matter. Go, my servants. The time of my return is not yet. I have more to prepare. And it is a different sort of plague that falls upon the Humans and Drakes now.”
He turned his gaze back towards the map and smiled.
“Yes, a different sort. Goblins.”
—-
The sky was bright. The sun was out. The sky was blue. Frost Faeries flew overhead, streaming north. They left, and the skies warmed. Winter had ended. So the Winter Sprites, the fae, flew one last time, laughing and calling out high overhead.
But none of the faeries looked back. None looked down at the young woman who stared up at their number. Ryoka Griffin stood in the snow and then turned. She began walking, and fumbled at her side. She pulled out an iPhone, only slightly dented from a recent fall, and two ear buds. Slowly, she put them in her ears.
There was a moment of silence as Ryoka flicked through her list of songs. In the end, she decided on It’s Time by Imagine Dragons. She began jogging as the drums began to play.
Northwards. The gates of Celum were empty, and the sun was shining down on a muddy road. The entire world was ahead. Ryoka ran, slowly at first, and then picking up speed.
“Ryoka!”
Someone raced out of the gates after her. Erin Solstice ran after her friend and stopped. She cupped her hands and shouted.
“Ryoka! Come back!”
But it was too late. Ryoka’s head turned once, and Erin saw her smile for a second. Then her head turned ahead, and she picked up her pace. Erin shouted.
A single hand rose. Ryoka lifted it, and let it fall after a moment. She ran on, northwards, away. Erin stood in the melting snow, in the frozen dirt, and watched her friend run on and on. Until she was a distant speck on the horizon. And then…
And then she was gone. Ryoka Griffin disappeared, and Erin stood in the gates of Celum. Ryoka was gone.
And as she walked back towards Octavia’s shop and saw Lyonette and Mrsha hurrying through with their possessions, Erin stepped through the door to her inn. She heard shouting, saw Ishkr boarding up the windows from the outside, heard horn calls from Liscor’s walls, and the drums.