by JD Franx
As Yrlissa looked down at the monster who had hurt so many, who had killed her friend, her blade-sister, no relief and no sense that due justice had been done flooded her soul and her heart rate returned to a slow, steady pace. She was an assassin; she felt nothing any more, nothing besides anger. The death of her husband and daughter eleven years ago ensured that emotion was the only one she’d ever feel again. With Rath dead, she could focus on finding the DeathWizard and those who had somehow returned him to Talohna. The death-flower tattooed on the right side of her face still throbbed with a dull ache; its growth the night before proof that a DeathWizard now walked the world of its birth.
Past memories flooded her mind as a lone finger trailed the smooth design, massaging her skin where the extravagant vines had burst from the flower.
Memories of the missed opportunity twenty years ago.
Memories of the countless dead caused by the last time a DeathWizard reached maturity in Talohna.
Memories of the wrongs that would be corrected, that could finally be set right.
With a solemn whisper of a spell lost to the ravages of time, a heavy black mist surrounded Yrlissa. When it evaporated seconds later, she was gone from the alley, as if never there.
Chapter Nine
The DemonKind are believed to be offspring of true demons, called the Lower Brethren, who guard the nine dimensions of Perdition. Magic worked very differently before the Cataclysm. Powerful rituals could free the Lower Brethren from their hellfire realms, allowing them to roam Talohna using illusion or force to breed with Humans, the Elvehn, and even the Fae.
It is common knowledge that the Ancients destroyed the DemonKind for their wicked beliefs and the delight they took in harming others. After the purge known as the DemonKind War, only a few bastardized offshoots managed to survive. Though they are not considered real DemonKind by any official standard, creatures like the vampyr, succubus, and all types of werebeasts are considered demonic plagues that must be eradicated when and where they are encountered.
GARREN SALLUS, TALOHNA: A TRAVELLER’S CODEX, VOL. 1
5015 PC
THE FORSAKEN LANDS
Blinding pain arcing through the right side of his face and intense agony racking his body brought Kael back to consciousness. The memory of what happened the last time he woke rushed back all at once. “Where the…?” he muttered before bolting upright, immediately regretting it as pain exploded through his face and head.
He moaned as a gentle set of hands on his shoulders eased him back down. “Careful, young man. I just got your wounds to stop bleeding. You don’t want them to open again.”
The woman’s voice came from his right, but he couldn’t see her. His right-side peripheral vision was gone, and a small light cast a dim glow from somewhere behind him. He tried to look at his saviour, but his neck protested in agony. “Ow. What’s wrong with me?” he groaned, suddenly not caring who was talking to him.
“Lie still,” she advised. “You’re in no condition to be moving around.”
Figuring she knew more about it than he did, Kael did as he was told. As he calmed his breathing, the pain lessened, albeit more slowly than he would have liked. “Yeah,” he sighed. “Who are you? What’s wrong with me?”
“My name is Lycori,” she said, her voice friendly. “You’re very lucky I found you before that darga could make a meal of you. You’re also lucky your shield held out as long as it did, or you would have been far beyond my help. As it is, your right eye is swollen shut, and a large lump at the hinge of your jaw might make it a little uncomfortable to speak. You’ll live, though. Lady Lykke must have kissed you of late.”
Confused beyond sense, Kael could think of nothing else to ask. “Lady who?”
“Lykke, the goddess of luck. You do know that most people don’t survive a darga attack…?”
“Kael,” he supplied. “I’m kinda lost.” He probed the tender right side of his face with his fingers, feeling for the damage she’d described.
“You’re not lost any more, my dear,” Lycori said. A creaking noise came from beside where he lay, telling him that she’d sat in a wooden chair, even though she was still just a vague shape in the gloom. “I can tell you where you are.”
“That’s not what I—Never mind. Why can’t I see?”
“I’ve extinguished most of the lights to protect your eye. The cuts are superficial, but better to be safe. I’m sorry I couldn’t do more; I wish I knew some healing magic.”
He grunted. “Don’t we all. But if we’re wishing for magic, I think I’d prefer magic that would take me home instead.”
“I can’t help you there.” She smiled. “Only the Fae could do that.”
He stared through the gloom as his good eye slowly adjusted to the dark. “Fae? Darga? What are you talking about? And what shield? I didn’t have a shield. I only found a sword.”
She regarded him as if he’d come from another dimension. He couldn’t blame her; he felt the same about her. “Not a buckler shield,” she said. “A magical shield. You know, the barrier spell you placed between you and that brute. You must have cast it, young man. There was no one else near who could have done it.”
For the first time in years, Kael was at an utter loss for words. Shaking his head slowly, he felt his sanity slipping further from his grasp with each passing minute. “Lycori, was it? Thanks for saving me, I mean that, but I think I should leave. You’re a little too crazy for me.” He tried to sit up again, but the vicious pain in his head returned with a vengeance.
“Calm down,” she said, raising her voice as she gently pushed him onto his back a second time. “Maybe you should tell me why you’re so upset. I may be a lot of things, but I’m not crazy. Though I am beginning to wonder about you.”
“Yeah. You and me both.” Kael shook his head as a tear of frustration rolled down his cheek into his ear. “Magic doesn’t exist. It’s a story for children.”
“Magic does exist,” Lycori said matter-of-factly. “It has always existed. It is the heart, soul, and life force that drives our very existence. Based on what you’ve said, it seems we have a bit of a mystery here. Refusing to believe what is happening will not help either of us. So let’s try and figure it out together. Fair?”
Kael nodded, resigned to the fact that he was way over his head, or out of it.
She smiled. “Let’s start with where you’re from.”
“Sam’s Bay, Washington. United States.”
She studied him for several minutes, never stirring from her chair in the shadows. “I’ve been to every corner of the Blood Kingdoms, but I’ve never heard of the United States or Sam’s Bay or Washington. I will admit I’m not as familiar with the Southern Kingdoms, but am fairly certain United States doesn’t exist there either.”
“Blood Kingdoms? Southern Kingdoms?” Kael echoed, his voice straining. “Where the hell am I?”
“You’re in Talohna, my dear,” she patiently replied. “It seems quite clear, from your dress and the way you speak, that Sam’s Bay Washington is a far-off territory indeed. How about telling me how you got here. Can you do that?”
Kael’s addled mind slowly cleared as he told her what things were like where he came from, his life and loved ones, and of the freak phenomenon that had plucked him, Ember, and Max off the patio at Tinker’s Bar & Grill and dropped him in a bell tower in the middle of a burnt-out wasteland. Panic slowly welled up in his stomach as a worried frown crossed her face.
“Gods above,” she choked. Coughing to clear her throat, she continued. “Someone must have wanted you here quite badly. I don’t have much practical experience with magic, but what you describe takes an incredible amount of knowledge and a massive amount of power. It’s a good thing you landed here with me. You may have been killed, or worse.”
“Worse?” Kael blurted, his lips trembling.
“There are many things worse than death in Talohna,” Lycori said gravely. “From the soulless and the undead, to the slave auction
s in Dasal, or even the Orotaq obsidian mines. Death can be a mercy here, a release from a life worse than any hell. In Talohna, powerful magic like the kind that brought you here is seldom a good thing.”
Kael grimaced. The more answers he got, the less he liked it.
“That solves you getting here,” she went on. “But it doesn’t explain why, or how you cast that shield to protect yourself. You say there is no magic where you come from, correct? None?”
“None,” he parroted, not exactly liking where this was going.
“Well, I know what I saw. Just before that darga hit you, you tried to lift your hands and a magic-shield, the shimmering yellow light you saw between you and the darga, came up to protect you. As far as I know, only a bonded wizard can do that. It’s not the strongest shield a wizard can cast, but it’s close, and it’s one that takes many years of training to use. A darga’s claws are so powerfully enchanted that they destroy most magic shields in a heartbeat. It’s what makes them so dangerous. Your shield held.”
Kael shrugged. “I don’t know how that happened. I don’t even understand how magic could be real.”
Lycori seemed to be running low on patience, at last. “All right,” she said sternly, reminding him of an old schoolteacher from his childhood back in Rockton. “I see that you’re unwilling to believe in it, but it doesn’t change the reality that, here, it very much does exist. Talohna is an extremely dangerous place for someone with no experience in magic. My own abilities are quite limited, but I can show you some. Most magic comes from the earth’s energy and a wizard’s bond to it. Do you understand that?”
He nodded, biting his tongue at the nonsense.
“Now. How old do I appear to you? Be honest, please.”
Kael’s good eye strained in the dim. For the first time, it occurred to him that although he could barely even see her outline, he knew without any doubt what she looked like. Long, wavy salt-and-pepper hair fell halfway down her back, framing a face lightly webbed with creases and crow’s-feet; she was shorter than him by a few inches and she wore a dark shawl over a simple dress of thin, white fabric.
His certainty of her appearance was confirmed when she turned up an oil lamp on the nightstand and approached the bed. “How old?” she demanded again.
Hoping not to hurt her feelings, he answered, “Mid-fifties. Sixty, maybe.”
Lycori smiled. “Watch closely, then.” Her eyes closed and she began whispering in a strange language.
Kael watched as the wrinkles, and several pounds, melted away; her mousy hair turned into a vibrant blond before his eyes. In a matter of moments he was looking at a young woman, around his own age. Once again he found himself speechless, his mouth gaping soundlessly like a beached fish.
“I am over four hundred years old. My people,” she began, much calmer now, “have the ability to alter our appearance. What you see now is my true face. It is a minor form of magic, requiring little power. But there are others here in Talohna who are able to manipulate much greater amounts of power. Do you understand? More importantly—do you believe?”
He nodded, choking on the yes.
“Good.” She dimmed the lamp and rose. “Rest for now. Later on I will try to help you with your magic. You obviously have some ability, though only the gods know how. There may be a few things I can help you with.”
Though Kael wanted nothing more than to ask a hundred more questions, but the pain throbbing in his head quickly changed his mind. He closed his good eye, hoping for sleep.
Chapter Ten
A wizard’s esoteric senses enable him to see and feel things that a normal person cannot begin to understand. A mystic can sense when others are near, can feel the presence of magic in objects, and can comprehend the size of an underground structure. These are just a few of the ways esoteric senses manifest. A powerful mystic may also use this ability to perceive wounds and illnesses hidden within the body, an ability used by the greatest healers of any age. When both of these skills are present together, it is the sign of a very rare and powerful wizard-to-be.
MASTER WIZARD DARIUS KNALL, ELDER COUNCIL MINUTES
4955 PC
THE FORSAKEN LANDS
Kael had no idea how long he’d slept, but he woke to darkness and dead quiet. Laying in the dark, he quickly began to understand how he’d known what Lycori looked like earlier when there was almost no light in the room: even with his eyes, or eye, closed, he could see the room around him in his mind. By concentrating, he could tell the chair across from him had someone in it; focusing harder, he could feel that it was Lycori, and that she had changed into a long, silk nightdress. She had retained her true appearance. Surprised and a little ashamed, he caught himself admiring her natural beauty. Like Ember often did back home, Lycori wore no makeup and her hair, though full of life, hung straight.
Shaking his head gently and directing his mind elsewhere, he sensed that the room was circular, and that they were underground. The single doorway stood to his right and seemed only to lead up. Recognizing the room’s dimensions, he deduced that they were in the basement of the bell tower where he’d first woken after the tornado strike back on Earth. It was a startling sensation bordering on terror yet exhilarating at the same time. To know what or who was around you but not actually see physically was a rush. He guessed this new sight might be magic of some sort too. If so, it could prove extremely useful.
A sting of pain in his right eye shifted his attention inward. Concentrating, he discovered he was able to look inside the bump over his eye. It was rapidly replaced by a low, rhythmic, vibration coursing through his body. He felt himself gently pulled deeper into his own body, as if inadvertently searching for the source of the rhythm. Dropping further into his own body, he saw his own heart, lungs and other organs. Terrified, panic raced through him, overwhelming his senses as he tried to stop himself from whatever his mind was doing.
With a jolt, his senses returned to normal and he realized Lycori had shaken him, obviously noticing his distress.
“Thanks,” he mumbled. “Good morning?”
She chuckled. “There are no good mornings in the Forsaken Lands.”
“Do I even want to know why they’re called that?”
Lycori spent the next hour explaining the history of the region Kael had landed in, of Jasala Vyshaan, and of the twisted creations her lingering magic had spawned. When she explained that the darga were the least of his concerns if he ever wanted to leave this place, all Kael could do was shake his head. “Why would you ever choose to live here?” he asked.
Lycori answered without hesitation. “My people are persecuted in the Blood Kingdoms and beyond. I came here to be alone, to be safe.”
Kael stared, puzzled as to why anyone would want to persecute her or her people. But before realizing it, he closed his eyes and his mind drifted into her body. All at once he understood why she’d hidden in a land full of monsters. Within seconds, he noticed that low rumbling pulse again. Her rhythm was very different from his own. Faster and more aggressive, the rhythm growled like a dog on the verge of attack. Another Lycori hid within the one she showed him on the outside. Flashes of claws and fangs pulsed behind his eyes and he sensed a hunger, a hunger barely under control.
Jerking himself back, he jumped, nearly falling off the bed. “Christ in heaven, I’ve got to stop doing that,” he muttered, rubbing his head.
Lycori eyed him, puzzled. “Doing what? Twice now you’ve nearly jumped out of your skin. What keeps scaring you?”
“You were the one who hit me from the side when that darga was on top of me,” he breathed. “You’re a vampire. That explains your four hundred years.”
“Hhm, your esoteric sense have begun working. You are exactly right, but the term is Vampyr,” she corrected. “It’s pronounced ‘vampeer’. A true vampire as you’ve pronounced the word would be a vampire lord or lady, and belong to a race called the DemonKind. Are you afraid of such creatures? Of me?”
“Nooo... I don’t t
hink you would have saved me just to hurt me now, would you?”
“Good point,” she smiled.
“Unless you want to eat me. Huh, didn’t think that through so well did I?”
“Not so much... But I don’t.” She laughed. He was glad it was an honest laugh.
“Good. Change of topic here, but how did you become…?”
Her smile faded as she sat in her chair. “I was scratched. Vampyrism is, for all intents, a disease, a plague. It spreads through a bite, a scratch or a cut, even through bodily fluids. Afterwards, you get sick. There’s no cure, magical or mundane. As you might have guessed, the sickness kills you. The fever burns you out. After you die you come back, awaken as a vampyr. We need blood to survive, but we can go a long time without it. We become weaker the longer we go between feeds. Eventually we run out of energy, age, and start to decay, but we never really die.”
“What about wooden stakes, or sunlight, or garlic?”
Lycori gawked for a moment, then burst out laughing. Kael’s puzzled expression prompted a reply. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh, but I love garlic. And what’s a wooden stake got to do with anything?”
“I don’t know,” he said, embarrassed. “No one’s ever seen a real vampire in my world. They’re stories, myths, fiction, nothing more.”
“Well, a wooden stake would do nothing except hurt like a bastard. Sunlight doesn’t kill us either, though direct exposure will weaken us.”
“What can kill you, then? You must be invincible.”
“Not at all. But, forgive me, it’ll take more than a night of small talk before I tell you how someone like me can be killed by someone like you. You understand, I hope.”
Realizing what he’d asked her, Kael felt his cheeks flush. “Uh, yeah. Sorry, I wasn’t thinking. So—how did it start? The plague, I mean.”