by BJ Hanlon
Then a moment later, he could see again. He was two feet into the building and he continued backing up. He swayed his blade back and forth as the one who’d just attacked tried again. This time, Edin stepped sideways, caught the blade with a flick and sent it skywards. He twisted his sword over and thrust it into the man’s exposed throat.
The man gurgled on his own blood and as Edin pulled it out, he caught another flash. This one of darkness. Blackness.
Someone screamed, a battle cry scream. One that roared for vengeance and Edin was taken back out of the vision.
What was happening?
Another two men were entering, the Por Fen quarterstaffer and one of the other guards. Edin blocked the staff strike down, but a moment later, was nearly caught off guard by a flick up with the other end. Edin lifted a leg and caught it in the shin.
The thwack sent rivulets of angry pain exploding through his mind as he wildly swung his sword to the right trying to block the guard’s downward slice.
He swiped and missed intercepting the guard’s attack, however, an instant later, the guard missed also. The weapons flying by each other like bats in the night.
For a moment, they seemed to have both completely failed. But then Edin’s wild wave slashed through the man’s side and lodged beneath his arm. He cried out and fell backward attempting to rip Edin’s sword from his hand.
Then Edin saw out of the corner of his eye, a sideways strike from the quarterstaffer aimed at smashing his skull like schoolboys did pumpkins.
Letting go of his sword, Edin quickly ducked it and felt the wind toss his hair like they were on the outskirts of a tornado. He balled a fist. A flash went through and instead of seeing nothing, he saw his fist outlined in white. Edin knew he hadn’t had to call upon it in a while. It took a split second.
He felt the twisting way down low in his gut. For some reason, it hurt terribly, but he needed it. It was like someone was twisting his intestines around a spit for a dinner of slow cooked entrails.
Edin roared and threw everything he had into the punch. The ethereal punch.
A moment later, he caught the look of the quarterstaff-wielding ranger. His eyes bulged as he flew up and backward like he was launched from a trebuchet. His back was toward the open door and he was thrown up until he slammed into the crossbeam above the open door.
The justicar had seen what was happening and ducked the flying, lifeless legs, but while the legs made it outside, the torso didn’t. The top half hit the wall above the door frame and a loud crack thundered through the lighthouse.
It struck with such force, Edin didn’t know if the crack was from the man or the wall of the lighthouse.
Then the Por Fen quarterstaffer dropped. He landed hard on the other ranger and the pair of them nearly took out the justicar who was again attempting to enter.
The justicar leapt off the porch and, with the three remaining soldiers, stared at Edin. They all had stopped.
At Edin’s feet was the quarterstaff and a few feet to his right, he saw his sword Mirage.
“What in the name of the gods!” one of the soldiers shouted. “He can beat the wan stones.”
“He’s a monster!” said another, the small man from the day earlier. The man dropped his sword and turned. As he started to run Arsholnol spun on him and threw something. It clacked the man in the back and he stumbled and crashed to the ground.
“You coward, Cheli.” The man scrambled up to his feet and kept running. The other guard looked at Arsholnol then at the justicar.
The justicar leveled a sword at Edin. “The abomination murdered one of the faithful and two of the Duke’s guards. Slay him,” he shouted, waiving a hand over his head and running in.
Edin scooped up the quarterstaff and was about to go for his sword when the justicar appeared only a few feet away.
He too was fast. Terrin fast.
The world slowed. Edin dodged a series of slashes and thrusts. He blocked a single downward strike and reversed the momentum to come over the top with the bottom of the quarterstaff. Edin felt a tingling in the gut and saw the white illumination appear at the end of the weapon.
So did the Por Fen.
He leapt out of the way just in time as Edin continued all the way through with the strike. It hit the floor with such force that the building shook.
Slowly, the world came to normal speed as there was a rocking feeling in the tower. All three remaining attackers were inside now and looking around nervously.
A large black crack appeared above the door. It was jagged and surrounding it were much more minor cracks in the general shape of an oval. Or that of a torso. Edin thought. Wood and whatever was used to keep the heat in and the cold out, fell.
To one side, he heard the whiskey bottle fall and clatter to the ground before starting the roll. Edin stepped back and noticed the Por Fen ranger pushing himself to his feet from beneath the dead quarterstaffer.
The other three men glared as the fourth reached their side.
“Are you okay?” Asked the justicar to the ranger who nodded once. Curt and with intensity. His eyes were burning flames at Edin, all of theirs were.
Edin felt his back to the fire. A real fire but one that was small and piddly. That didn’t matter, he could feel the warmth. Then, a moment later the rolling of the bottle stopped as it hit his foot.
The men all looked at each other and then there was a scream.
“Ahh!” It came from the justicar. He, the other Por Fen, and Arsholnol all charged Edin with wild banshee-like attacks.
The world slowed as they pulsed toward him. Edin stepped to the side. He felt something brush against his heel as he spread his hands and blocked an attack parallel to the ground from the ranger. It was an attack that was aimed at separating his top half from his bottom half. Edin lashed out a kick at the slow moving Arsholnol.
Why he was here, Edin didn’t quite know. But he felt the big bearded man’s gut flop around his toes as his eyes widened in a slow and confused pace. The big man left his feet for a moment, very slowly, and began to stumble.
Edin didn’t use the power on the kick, but he could have. Then he turned back to the two remaining Por Fen and the last warrior who was taking it easy and not attacking.
Maybe he was on a break.
The justicar and the ranger were not.
They were attacking quickly. Both were terrins, that he was now certain. As the justicar tried to cut at his hip, he slammed the staff down a foot from his right leg and held on tight. The sword of the Por Fen struck it and the reverberation fluttered through his body. Edin kicked the bottom of the stick for power and it whipped up and caught the justicar between the legs.
He yelped and dropped.
Behind him, there was a whoosh. It was slow at first but then Edin noticed it got really warm, really fast. And it was all concentrated near his back and his foot.
Edin glanced down and saw the river of fire running a half foot from him and toward Arsholnol. Edin leapt away and dodged the ranger’s thrust followed by a weaker slash and flick up toward Edin’s throat. Edin brought the staff down and it caught the man’s leg. There was a giant snap and the man dropped. A moment later, he rolled and his shoulder was in the fire. The fire grew even more and the justicar screamed at the soldiers. “Get him or I’ll kill you and your families!” He shouted as Arsholnol and the last warrior were beginning to back up.
They didn’t stop and the justicar saw that. “If I don’t, he will.” The man said pointing the tip of his sword at Edin.
The ranger was rolling on the ground trying to put out the flames but Edin saw that would be a futile process. His black cloak had been soaked in something that went up like oil, or whiskey.
Edin backed up and felt a bit more of the talent. He reached out and felt the fire and let it grow, willed it to grow, but the wan stones were still pushing back not letting him really direct it. It was like trying to control a forest fire.
The flames caught on the walls and began
to climb and then spread. Then Edin hit something with his foot. He turned back and saw the first of the stairs that led up to the top of the lighthouse. Edin saw the worried looks on the soldiers and the wild and angry look on the justicar.
“Arsholnol, you wanted him, get him!” the justicar shrieked over his shoulder, his eyes were wide and Edin guessed that if he had hair it’d all be standing on end.
Arsholnol somehow seemed diminished. The big duke’s guard didn’t seem to want to come at Edin anymore. He didn’t seem to want to come at anyone anymore. His eyes, so fearless and angry ten minutes before were as wide as the bottom of an ale stein. “Now!” the justicar shrieked again.
Edin noticed the ranger ripping off his black cloak and black tunic then scrambling back and toward the far wall on hands and booted feet. He wore only his undertrousers. Down his right side was an angry red burn that looked to be only moments from blistering. Edin took another step back and up onto the stairs.
The justicar leapt toward him, Edin parried the strike and the justicar retreated. It was a probing strike, one to make him move. To make him climb. Then the other soldier and Arsholnol moved toward him.
“You up first.” The justicar said pushing Arsholnol into his place.
Arsholnol stabbed and Edin stepped up and back again not even having to parry the attack with the quarterstaff. He could see what the justicar wanted to do, maybe even what Arsholnol wanted.
Then the justicar pushed the other soldier onto the stairs.
Smoke was beginning to rise. Gray, putrid smoke. Edin thought about leaping beneath the small bannister to the floor but the ranger, half naked and torched, was on his feet and pointing his blade at Edin like an arrow ready to be shot. Edin took another step up after another probing strike from Arsholnol. Behind him, the other soldier was now beginning to climb.
Edin parried the strike and glared at Arsholnol. “You know the Por Fen aren’t going to follow you. They’re going to hope we all die in the fire.” Edin looked over the soldiers and then toward the justicar. “Isn’t that right?”
The justicar moved to the base of the stairs and pointed his sword at the back of the soldier. “Get him!” he shrieked again, a wild manic look in the man’s creepy eyes. “Kill him!”
Something fell to the right, the head of some boar that had previously been on the wall. It crashed into the bench and a tusk shot off like a stone that was thrown into a harder one. The soldiers all jumped.
The other one looked up at Arsholnol, then back at the justicar. He turned to run but a moment later, he was stabbed through the chest with the justicar’s blade.
The justicar turned to the ranger who was blistering and clearly in pain. How the man was still standing was a mystery.
The justicar said “make sure none come down.” He pushed the body of the soldier off of the stairs and took his place.
Arsholnol locked eyes with Edin. There was terror in them now. The man was going to die and he knew it.
“Not the way you’d planned it?” Asked Edin feeling almost sorry for him. Almost.
“You’ll die too…” said the guard, his voice shaky.
Edin stepped up again, he followed the stairs up as he backed slowly around the rising circumference of the lighthouse. Above him, the trap door was closed and smoke was beginning to gather like a cloud beneath the floor.
Through the smoke, he could see the fire climbing. It grew faster both up and to the side. Below, Arsholnol was looking scared, he could no longer see the ranger but the justicar’s face said he’d die if it meant killing Edin. A loony zealot.
Below, glinting in the firelight, he saw his sword, still stuck in the body. He really didn’t want to lose it. He climbed higher and he began to taste the first bit of smoke. It had dropped to about five feet beneath the floor above and the fire was flickering through it like lightning in a cloud.
He didn’t have time. Edin dodged Arsholnol’s last strike and turned to run.
The smoke stung his eyes as he barreled through and up the steps. He kept his arm out to tell him when he was about to hit the ladder that led to the trap door. As he grew closer, he heard the cracking of wood and felt the heat from below him like he was being roasted.
The dream came back. The old nightmare of the fire burning beneath him and Merik’s sick glare returned. He saw his old village mates all watching, all waiting for him to die. He almost stopped, the fear trying to overtake him.
With effort, Edin pushed it from his mind as he gripped the ladder. He couldn’t see anything behind him, though he heard the justicar yelling, “Climb you rotten dirty slag! Get the abomination or I’ll kill your entire family!” The shrieking sounded like a little girl in a murky pond as something slimy brushes past her leg.
A moment later he heard a cry from below. “Edin!” It was Berka’s voice. Edin grinned.
“Traitor.” There were other voices and suddenly he heard swords clattering in the smoke below. Edin had no time. He couldn’t see and he was nearly toasted. He climbed the ladder and reached for the latch. He felt it but couldn’t get it to move.
Noticing the suppression of the wan stones was there, but slight, he felt for the talent. The one he’d had the longest. Ethereal knives appeared in his mind and in his hand and Edin whipped his hand up. Suddenly, two shafts of light appeared and Edin pushed on the trap door.
It was heavy, but after a good thrust, it flew open and clattered into something. Edin threw the quarterstaff up there and grabbed for the lip. He pulled himself up as he and the smoke began pouring out into the glassy room. It was warm and there were giant mirrors all around and what looked like a wick for a huge oil lantern in the center.
The smoke would begin to pool in here. He took the staff, felt the ethereal power in the stroke and whipped it around his head. The talent-laced quarterstaff slammed into one of the windows.
The shattering explosion sent shards flying into the open sky and raining down on whatever was below. Edin hit something else too. A wooden beam that held up the conical wooden roof above his head. The beam cracked in two and another window shattered.
“Oh poo.” Edin said.
Then another. Suddenly and moving from left to right and continuing around him, each window shattered in turn. Then the mirrors. Crash, crash, crash.
It went on for nearly a full minute and just as the last one was exploding, Arsholnol pulled himself out of the hole like a gopher escaping a flooded burrow.
He leapt into the room and stumbled to the side. It barely took a moment to see where he was stumbling toward. Falling out of the tower would’ve been fine with Edin, but he was stumbling toward the already broken post.
Arsholnol grabbed it and put too much weight into it.
The roof bounded down a few more inches and was now angled precariously toward the sea. He looked around at the airy room and then at Edin.
A moment later, the justicar appeared. He grinned wickedly at Edin and drew his sword.
Edin saw that despite Arsholnol having his weapon drawn, he held it loosely and was pointing it toward the ground.
Edin stepped back as the justicar approached. He could feel both the open air and the suppression of the wan stone growing.
Suddenly, he noticed his heel wasn’t touching the already leaning tower. To the right a few feet, the wooded floor was nearly black. Charred like a good barrel for a bourbon.
Then a large piece of the char fell. Flames burst up in a ball and then went out just as quick. Arsholnol looked at the ground beginning to crack and then at the justicar.
Edin didn’t have that luxury. He glanced behind him at the vast ocean. He was maybe fifty feet above the ground on the easternmost point of the lighthouse and there was at least ten feet of frozen land before the icy water.
Edin felt faint for a moment as he swayed. Or was it the tower that swayed. He got a quick image of déjà vu and then waited.
The justicar came at him as fast as he could. Time slowed around Edin. One of the posts hol
ding up the roof buckled over the fire. Then the tower began to tilt even more. Like a top on a single strand. But he knew there was nothing that held up the center.
It was slow and Edin was able to adjust his feet and shift his weight.
The justicar did as well. He slashed his sword, the blade crashing into the center of Edin’s ironwood staff, Edin twisted it and shoved him back. The terrin readjusted and came in at Edin’s legs.
Edin jumped it as the tower began to drop. He noticed the wide, frightened eyes of the Arsholnol. He was staring around wide-eyed as the tower began to fall in on itself at a near forty-five-degree angle.
Edin blocked another slash but the justicar must’ve known that would happen because he twisted his blade on impact and thrust at Edin’s head and neck.
Edin craned his head away from the attack as the world outside seemed to rise incredibly slowly. Suddenly, the oil lantern at the center dropped from sight like popping the seed from a half-eaten peach.
It was moments from fully collapsing and he certainly didn’t want to be inside when it did.
Edin released the staff with one hand and swung it around with the other in a great arc. It caught the justicar in the hip with a painful thwack. He grimaced and Edin stepped back, turned, and leapt.
He fell at a much faster speed and heard the tower cracking behind, breaking. He saw frozen land and then cold water beyond. There were sharp rocks there too and he looked to be missing them by a few inches.
With a last push, he sent air into his backside and scooted ahead and into the freezing water.
He felt a concussive blast as he dropped beneath the surface. Edin gasped as all of his breath was sapped from him and his sight went white.
For a moment, he remembered his vision blanking at the beginning of the attack. Then it happened again. Something appeared before him. It was someone’s sight, someone’s essence pushing into his head like a blacksmith pounding an inlay into a forged blade.
Edin, or more accurately, his mind stood on the precipice of a cliff and before him, a great lake sat still. Bordering it were mountains and the water was clear and blue. He felt as if he were seeing through Arianne’s eyes again.