Without warning, a blast of energy swept out from the young man, blowing papers around the room and rattling paintings on the walls. Lyrax brought his arm up to shield his face, while Roann wrapped his arms protectively around Kaia. Ryris felt a familiar burning on his chest, the fabric of his shirt beginning to smolder. He tried to bring his hand up to move it out of the way, not even caring anymore if Roann or Lyrax saw it. Finding himself quite without the strength to even lift his arm, he just lay there, waiting for the fire to consume him and end his pain.
He felt like such a failure.
Flames began to wick through the cotton shirt, licking his skin. Roann flew to the alchemist’s side and tore the burning garment from his body, exposing the glittering, glowing amulet. Ryris, too weak to protest, did nothing as the emperor ripped it from his neck, breaking the thin silver chain in the process. Roann brought the bauble close to his face to inspect it. The gem began to lose its brilliant purple hue, replaced by a dark, blood red.
Ryris waited for him to be overcome again; like that day in the shop, but nothing happened. He watched with confusion as the emperor turned it over in his hands, running his fingers over the smooth cabochon.
“What do we have here?”
Ryris whimpered, unable to form words. He didn’t have the energy—or the will—to answer. For a fleeting moment, his thoughts went to Gran. He had let her down. Their family heirloom was now in the hands of the enemy.
Roann grabbed him by the shoulders and shook. “Speak up, alchemist! What little secret have you been keeping from me?” Irritated by Ryris’ inability to respond, he dropped him back to the ground. Roann stared at the jewel, suddenly overcome with a revelation. He jumped up, amulet in hand, and turned to face his master. “This! This is what kept him from us!”
The necromancer shuffled forward and inspected the talisman, resting in the palm of Roann’s hand. “Shimmerbane!” He scolded the injured alchemist. “Shame on you, Bren. Keeping this precious stone from me.” He moved to take it from Roann’s hand, only to have the young man clasp his fingers tightly around it. Lyrax’ eyes seethed and he inhaled a surprised, hissing breath.
Roann spoke before the necromancer could lash out. “Master, I’ve done everything you’ve ever asked of me. I deserve to wear this amulet. You have the hilt and shards of Kaia’s sword—I deserve a prize too.”
Lyrax clenched his fists, his lips quivering with anger. His voice was low and growling. He held his hand out flat. “Give it to me.”
Roann nodded and bowed curtly as he handed over the bauble. “Forgive me.”
“You will be rewarded further, I assure you.” Lyrax quickly mended the broken chain with his magic. He held it in his hands, eyes closed as he concentrated on the stone. Quickly his excited expression changed to concern. “There is something strange about this talisman. Something…fighting me.” He clasped his hands around the gem tightly, trying to make sense of what he was feeling. “It’s weak…but nonetheless there.”
With an exasperated huff, he slipped the necklace over his bald, withered head. Immediately, a crimson cloud enveloped him, sending sparking embers flying out in all directions. The necromancer inhaled deeply within the mist, drinking in the massive power swirling around him. Pained moans escaped his lips as the magic flowed through him. His body trembled, and the waves threatened to bring him to his knees. The rotten spots on his neck pulsated. Several seconds later, the fog dissipated, leaving the amulet glowing a haunting red on his chest. He weakly regained his footing and stood as tall as he was able. Finally, he spoke.
“The stone of your father has come full circle, dear Kaia. Although it does not seem to want to help willingly at the moment, I am confident it will be used once again to grant immeasurable power.” He faced Roann and his new mistress. “We will be unstoppable.”
He turned to leave, not paying any more attention to the captives or unresponsive alchemist. Roann and Kaia followed, the young emperor posing one final question as they retreated.
“Master Lyrax, what of the prisoners?”
Lyrax flicked his hand and the barrier dissipated. His voice was once again laden with exhaustion, and he leaned on the desk for support as he disappeared into a hidden doorway in the paneling. “Do with them as you wish. I must rest.”
“Be a good girl while I’m gone? This will take only moments.” Roann grabbed Kaia by the arm and pulled her close, kissing her passionately.
Roann’s lips were warm against her own, luring her deeper and deeper into the spell that consumed her. A spark of defiance, weakening with every passing moment, still resided within her, though. A flash of white light appeared before her eyes and she was rewarded with a moment of clarity. The mark on her bosom ached. She tried to get away from the amorous emperor.
Roann dug his fingers into her bicep and held her so tightly it threatened to break her ribs. He put his lips to her ear and whispered forcefully, “Don’t fight the charm. Soon I’ll make sure you remain mine forever…”
Kaia fought with her mind. With each passing second, she lost more and more control. The last small kernel of determination to get away was moments from being squelched completely. Her gaze drifted to Ryris, barely conscious on the floor. She knew she should save him, protect him—and yet her loyalties had been tainted. In her last lucid moments, she knew she had to get Roann away from him. If she was going to inevitably fall into his clutches, she could at least buy her friends some time to escape.
She finally pulled away. Her eyes turning black once more, she knew she had only seconds before she lost the battle. She ran her hands seductively down Roann’s chest. “Forget them…”
A lustful growl rumbled from Roann’s throat and he roughly ran his hands through her hair. “You’re making this difficult, love.”
With the last shred of herself left, Kaia made one final effort to sway him. Her voice was desperately breathless. “Please…”
“You’re very determined, aren’t you?” He leaned in and kissed her passionately.
With Roann distracted, Grildi raced to Ryris’ side, kneeling and pulling the young alchemist’s head into his lap. With the barrier down and Lyrax gone, Jaric charged at the emperor. Roann, never releasing his lips from Kaia’s, made quick work of the warrior, knocking him to the floor with a gust of magical wind from a hand nonchalantly flicked behind his back. Undeterred, Jaric scrambled to his feet to oppose him once again. Roann let go of Kaia and a second, more powerful burst of air knocked him backwards, flinging him into Grildi’s back. Jaric struggled to his feet this time, the impact with the giant man taking its toll.
Roann sighed and rolled his eyes. “I’ve had quite enough of your pseudo-heroics today. You and your worthless partners,” He looked toward his mother, who refused to set eyes on him. “…aren’t worth my time.” Roann gestured to his rotten guards. “Throw them off the balcony. Make sure my mother joins them.”
“Not willing to dirty your pretty little royal hands with our blood, eh? Kaia was right, you really are a coward.” Jaric snarled at the emperor.
“You don’t have the right to say her name anymore.” Roann narrowed his eyes. “In another time you would have been a worthy adversary.”
“Come on, then! Show me what you’re made of!” Jaric practically foamed at the mouth, eager to teach the arrogant emperor a lesson.
“I’m wanted elsewhere. Like a gentleman, I didn’t indulge while she was my captive. But now…” Roann took Kaia by the hand.
“Kaia! Dust and bones, remember! Don’t let them win! Fight it!” Jaric clenched his fists.
But, the last sparkle was gone. Her eyes were consumed by ebony clouds once more and her voice hardened. She looked down to Ryris, spluttering on the floor. “Pitiful…”
Ryris, utterly devastated and totally defeated at Kaia’s words, finally gave in to his exhausted body and slipped into unconsciousness.
Roann swooped his hands beneath Kaia’s legs and lifted her into his arms. They disappeared into the sam
e disguised door Lyrax had, Kaia draping her arms around his neck as they walked away. The door closed behind them and the room was suddenly eerily quiet, save only for Ryris’ labored breathing and the ghoulish guards’ clinking armor.
The soldiers moved on the party, weapons drawn. Grildi grabbed his club, discarded when the barrier enveloped them, jumped up, and swung it wildly at their opponents. One soldier crumpled to the ground as Grildi’s bludgeon smashed the putrid brains right out of his skull. The other seven lunged at the group, their swords ready to pierce their bodies and send them to oblivion. Scrambling for his own blade, Jaric’s arm caught the edge of one of the soldier’s swords, drawing blood. Unable to give his wound any attention, he lunged for his weapon and raised it high above his head, plunging it into the skull of his attacker. Eilith moved back, away from the raging battle, to Ryris’ side. She eased him into her lap, running a soothing hand through his blood-matted hair.
The skirmish raged, bodies flying every which way. Careful not to allow any more harm to his fallen friend, Grildi protected Ryris with his own body as he defended them. His club clunked against the armor of their attackers, smashed into their bodies with unimaginable force. One of the horrid beings lunged forward, his axe poised to remove Eilith’s head from her petite frame. Grildi blocked the mighty weapon with the shaft of his club, the blade cleaving the wooden end clean off. Angry beyond belief at the destruction of his trusted fighting companion, the giant man screamed in fury and barreled at the remaining troops. He bowled them over with such intensity that they smashed into the door, forcing it clear off the hinges. Jaric rushed to Eilith’s side to ensure she was alright, the entire time watching Grildi take out his frustrations on the decaying guards. One by one, he smashed their heads with his bare hands, punched through a rotting rib cage with such force that a festering heart rocketed out from the soldier’s back. It splattered onto the floor, Grildi taking a moment to stomp on it for good measure. As the last guard made her final attack on the party, Grildi grabbed the discarded weapon of one of the zombie’s comrades—a grand battleaxe—and swung it gracefully, removing her head from her body. As she crumpled to the ground, silence overtook the room. The stench of decaying flesh and fresh blood permeated the air. Grildi immediately ran to Eilith’s, ensuring she was unharmed.
“You okay, Your Highness?” He scrutinized every inch of her, making sure she wasn’t bleeding.
“Just fine, dear. You were incredible!”
Grildi blushed at the compliment. “Just savin’ my friends.” He bulged his eyes at the mention of camaraderie, immediately settling his attention on his gravely-injured friend. He gently shook Ryris, but got no response. His stillness caused Grildi to panic, pleading to Jaric with terrified eyes.
“He’s not dead. But we need to move. He needs medical attention I can’t give him.”
“But, Boss! What about Kaia?”
Jaric sighed painfully. “We have to leave her.”
“No!” Grildi’s face flushed, his voice echoing off the walls. He pointed wildly at the door she had disappeared into with Roann. “She needs us!”
Jaric laid a calming hand on his forearm. “We need to go…now.”
Eilith offered an escape plan. “There’s a passageway in my apartments, just down the hall. We can use it to get down to the stables. Our stock of horses is plentiful, and we can use them to leave town.”
Jaric stood, with Eilith’s help, and encouraged Grildi to pick up the unconscious alchemist. The massive man gently eased his friend into his arms and hefted him up, cradling him close to his chest.
“We’ll figure out a way to get her back. I swear it.” Jaric patted Grildi on the arm. “But right now, we need to get out of here. We’re of no use to our cause if we’re dead.”
“Aye. I trust you, Boss.” He nodded sadly before leaning down and whispering into Ryris’ ear. “…and I know you trust me. I’ll protect you, and get Kaia back.”
Eilith poked her head out the door, scanning up and down the hallways. There was no sign of any more undead troops. She beckoned the two men with her dainty hand. “Hurry, we won’t have much time!”
The pair followed her out of Roann’s apartments and down the hall, mindful of the bodies littering the entryway. They hurried down the corridor and into Eilith’s chambers. Not possessing her key, she asked Grildi to kick it open. The door fell inwards, puffs of dust floating out of the old wooden remains. The party rushed in, fearful of the noise attracting more assailants. Eilith scurried to a mundane-looking wall; a bookcase leaned up against the rich wood paneling. She removed a seemingly random tome and the shelf moved, swinging outwards on hidden hinges.
She ushered them into the dark passageway with frantic hands. When they were safely inside, she grabbed an oil lamp from a desk, quickly lit it, and darted into the hidden chamber. Jaric, using all his strength, pulled the bookcase back into position, clicking it shut behind them. The light of the empress’ lamp was dim, barely enough to light their way.
“Where now?” Jaric took point, squinting to see in the almost non-existent illumination. Ryris groaned in Grildi’s arms.
“Follow the corridor. It leads to a stairwell down to the back of the palace. An escape route built long ago. Never in my life…” Eilith’s voice sounded wispy and longing. They ran for what seemed like an eternity, wiping cobwebs from their faces and stepping on the occasional rodent. The companions finally came to a stone spiral staircase, Jaric tentatively taking a few steps down to test its strength. It seemed solid enough, having been constructed of masonry, but it was ancient and he was unsure if it was still structurally sound.
“Careful, it’s narrow and if you slip, you’ll ride the wave all the way to the bottom.” Jaric started down the stairs, grasping Eilith’s hand tightly in his own to guide her on the trip. Grildi brought up the rear, careful not to smash Ryris’ head against the stone wall. He kept one ear trained upwards, listening intently for any signs of pursuit. They scurried as fast and as carefully as their feet would take them down several flights until they reached the end.
A wooden door opened into a small alcove, a barred gate the only thing keeping them from freedom. Jaric approached the gate, peering through the bars as best he could to get a view of the area. Cool, fresh air blew at his face. Bright sunlight assaulted his eyes. Jaric realized their chances of escape were quite low in the daylight’s brilliance. But, they didn’t have a choice in the matter. “I don’t see anyone. I hear horses, though.”
“The stables are just around the corner. If we can get the door open, we can make a break for it.” Eilith moved to his side, her now-stained and filthy gown brushing up against his rugged trousers. She reached for the bars, gently rattling them in hopes the gate would just miraculously open.
The lock held tight, centuries of disuse allowing a calcified coating to build up on the surface of the hinges. Jaric eased her back behind Grildi. With the tip of his sword, he pried the door away from the jamb, the hinges popping off soon after. The gate fell inwards, Jaric catching it and setting aside with almost no clatter.
He readied his sword and took a few hesitant steps outside. Jaric crouched as he walked, keeping a keen ear to the air and a sharp eye to the horizon. After a few moments of reconnaissance, he beckoned for his partners to join him. They circled the tower they had just emerged from and made their way toward the stables. The horses grazed in the afternoon sun, a foal bucked and played with its mother. Jaric led the group into the stable, out of the open expanse of the courtyard. They crept through the corral, the horses paying them absolutely no mind. Ryris lay still in Grildi’s strong arms, never once uttering a sound.
“See if you can unhitch a couple, and I’ll try and find a…” Jaric’s tone of voice suddenly rose with glee, as he bounded toward the other side of the stable. “…wagon! It’s our cart!”
Grildi and Eilith followed him closely, the giant man smiling broadly at the sight of their wagon. His demeanor suddenly changed as he took a more ca
reful look around.
“Where’s East?” Grildi scanned the stable.
Jaric moved away from the wagon, his boots kicking up a cloud of dust. He coughed and inspected the pile—and realized it was ashes. Coming to a sad realization, he dreaded having to tell his lumbering friend. Grildi had become quite attached to the horse.
“I think she’s dead…” He pointed to the mound of ash. “I’m sorry, Grildi.”
Grildi lowered his head. “She didn’t do nothin’…”
“Can’t waste time mourning her. We need to move.” Jaric’s tone was commanding, yet sympathetic.
Grildi nodded his acceptance of the situation. He set Ryris down on a bed of hay before assisting Eilith in attaching the ropes to the bridles of a pair of horses.
“There’s quite a bit missing, here.” Jaric quickly took half-assed inventory of their belongings, ensuring that his crystal mail was still stowed safely inside. Kaia’s armor and bow were nowhere to be found, along with the box that contained the hilt of her sword. He grumbled at the losses. “Roann must’ve been down here pilfering. Kaia’s armor is gone, and…so is the hilt.”
“We have to go back! If he has the hilt…” Grildi’s voice was panicked.
“We can’t! We’ll figure it out, I promise. Now get those horses ready!”
Eilith and Grildi brought their two charges forward, with the empress securing hers to the wagon’s hitching shaft. She pulled their reins through the eyelets and up to the front seat. Jaric maneuvered some of the cargo to make a space for Ryris. Picking up his battered friend, Grildi carefully laid him on the bed of the wagon, and covered him with a tarp to keep him warm. Blood from his multiple wounds began to seep through the fabric. Once he was confident his companion was secure, he helped Eilith up into the front seat, where Jaric was waiting. Hoisting himself onto the remaining horse, he kicked her to make her move and the team set out. They steered toward a small alley jutting out from the side of the castle.
The wagon’s wheels and horse’s hooves made an ungodly racket, and soon two undead guards rounded the palace. Jaric threw the reins at Eilith and jumped down, making quick work of the inept soldiers. He decided to run alongside the wagon until they were clear of danger, should he need to defend the party once again. They kept a brisk pace, making it to the outside perimeter of the city in record time. Jaric was shocked they didn’t encounter any more guards.
The Alchemist: Dawn of Destiny Page 51