by Sean Oswald
“I just didn’t expect you to listen to me,” it answered. “First off, let me introduce myself. My name is Seimion. I am of a race which does not exist on the continent of Talos, but I am native to Eloria. We are called spiderkin. I am only on this truth-forsaken rock of a continent because the Master has sent me here. He has tasked me with finishing some of his work that began long ago.”
Dave simply listened. He had joked when he thought it might put the creature off guard and as a way of trying to calm his own nerves, but now he needed to focus. If this was the villain monologue, he surely didn’t want to cut it short. “The Master at first thought you were a nuisance as were some of the others, but then he saw potential in you. He even arranged for you to be offered the mantle of the death knight. I for one will never know how you turned down such a boost, but it seems to have worked out well enough for you. You have progressed a great deal since we first started watching you.”
“You speak about your Master as though I should know who he is, but I must plead ignorance. Could you please explain more?”
“Oh, he isn’t just my Master. He is the Master of all Eloria, even those who do not know it dance to his strings.”
“Then he is one of the Gods?”
“Pfhah, as if. He is the flesh made so much more. He has revealed the great truth.”
Dave heard a quality akin to religious zealotry within Seimion’s voice, so he wanted to be careful not to set him off. This type often has very thin skin regarding their supposed truths. “Again, I am lost. I would like to know the truth.”
“You are not ready. I can see some of the potential the Master speaks of, but yet, you are clearly not ready. Besides, all who serve must prove themselves faithful.”
“So you said this was a job interview. What is the job I am interviewing for?”
Seimion stood up and paced back and forth for a full minute before saying, “You know that there is a massive goblin army headed for the place you are calling home.”
“Yes, but look who is changing the subject now.”
“Do you not worry about this?” Seimion asked.
Dave said, “We can deal with goblins. Look at how effortlessly I dealt with those goblins and ogres.”
“You do know that there will be more than a few hundred goblins and that there will be trolls and giants, not just ogres with them, too. They will have spell casters and archers and assassins who will sneak in to kill your women and children, perhaps even that pretty wife of yours.”
In an instant, Dave’s calm evaporated, and he activated Frost Armor while drawing his sword with one hand and casting Lightning Bolt with the other. The current arced from his hand to his foe, but rather than striking Seimion’s emaciated form, it sparked and danced along a dome of energy which surrounded him. It didn’t look like when his magic had struck other force shields in the past but rather as though the spell simply dissipated into harmless sparks. He wasn’t done though, for no sooner had the bolt left his hand than he was in motion charging forward with his new sword.
Two steps from cutting the mage down, Dave was caught by what felt like an invisible hand that lifted him off the ground and shook him like a rag doll before pressing him up against the wall. Oddly enough, even as he tasted blood in his mouth, he also couldn’t help but be repulsed by the stench of the rotting tapestry his face was pressed up against. He felt his body be rolled over by the same force so that now it was his back pressed against the wall.
“Don’t worry. I am not angry at you for trying. Honestly, I would question your viability if you didn’t. Those who have potential all have a fire within them, but you should know that you are not ready for me yet. I am too far ahead of you. You have made progress, but it takes time and experience to be ready, and I am a hundred years ahead of you.”
Dave was furious but tried to slow his mind so that he could think of what to do. He hadn’t taken any real damage, and by this time, his greatly enhanced regeneration had restored him to full health. Perhaps now was the time to talk again, but first he wanted to try one more thing. He made a show of struggling against the telekinetic force holding up against the wall. Even though it was only to distract from the spell that he was mumbling under his breath he still put enough effort into it that the stone of the wall began to crumble. Then he finished casting Negate Magic and channeled extra mana into it beyond the normal cost of 50 mana. The force holding him shimmered midair and then disappeared allowing him to drop to the ground.
He started to rush forward as soon as he was freed. Sword in one hand and magic missiles leaping off the other, Dave was right back at it. The magic missiles, which never miss their target, stopped as they hit the same dome and blinked out of existence.
“Stop. It is futile. No spell Tier 3 or lower can penetrate this globe.”
Dave paused for just a second, and in that time, bright glowing chains of pure light shot out from both sides of Seimion and entangled him, wrapping him up tightly till he was dropped to his knees. Still, he struggled and strained. Pushing his arms out against the bonds made them shift, but they didn’t break even though he could feel them stretching.
Then, he stopped struggling as a wave of euphoria rushed over him. Incomprehensibly, he couldn’t feel angry. He suddenly felt at ease. The logic centers of his brain said he should be raging, yet he couldn’t muster up the emotion. He knew he needed to kill Seimion but felt perfectly at peace inside.
“There. That should help you feel better. It’s just as well that you dispelled the telekinesis spell. It is versatile and useful but mana intensive to use,” Seimion said with what was meant to be a smile.
It dawned on Dave then that the mage must have used magic to mess with his emotions. “So what is this–the equivalent of magical valium?”
“I don’t know what valium is, but it is a simple spell called Serenity. It calms your emotions and makes you more reasonable to deal with.”
“I will still kill you,” Dave said.
“If the Master wills it.”
“So are you going to tell me what it is that you want?”
“Yes, it is very simple. We want you to finish the purge. Then you and your family can join the civilized world. There is no rush, but we need to know if you are willing to do this. I can give you till spring. I will hold back the goblin army till then, but after that, they will fall upon Eris’ Rise, and the hovels which you have begun to build will be burnt to the ground. That is your deadline, the first full thaw of spring.”
The proposition had given Dave enough time to burst the chains around him. He knew that they had to still be in the Murkwood because he still enjoyed the benefits of his land ruler buff, and so his Strength was enough to break the spell.
“Well, you are becoming troublesome, but don’t think I can’t restrain you again. There is no reason for us to be at odds. We really should both be serving the Master’s vision.”
Dave laughed and moved to lunge with his sword but then dropped it and sent it flying across the ground. For just a moment, that drew Seimion’s attention, and Dave spun to drive his free hand into the mage’s chest as a palm strike. As he did so, he triggered the stored spell, Bone Shatter. Dave was sure this would work, it was a Tier 4 spell, and so the globe wouldn’t protect the mage even if it worked once he was within it.
Seimion laughed. “I assume that was meant to do something to my bones. Very well played. You continue to impress, but spiderkin have exoskeletons not bones. That type of magic is usually very specific.” Then a large ruby on a bracelet the mage wore flashed, and a searing heat forced Dave to move backwards.
“Remember, till the first thaw of spring.” The words echoed throughout the room as Seimion teleported away.
As Dave gated out from the crypt in the wake of Seimion leaving, he didn’t pay any attention to the room around him. Had he been more alert to the circumstances around him, he would have heard a rustle in the stone coffin. If he had stayed for a minute more, he would have noticed the runes eng
raved in the stone flaring to life with an eerie green light. Perhaps he would have been curious enough to stay even longer. He would have heard the heavy coffin lid sliding painfully, slowly with a sound like nails down a chalkboard. That might have pushed him to leave in fear, but if not, he would have seen what came next. A newly reformed skeletal hand reach up and grasp the side of the coffin. He would have heard an unearthly cry of vengeance burst forth from a mouth without the benefit of lungs to propel air or a tongue to form sounds. Still, the magic of a reforming death knight would have been quite the sight to behold.
Interlude 11
Moon Elf Throne, King Gaspard of Faeloria, Melani Holstein, Baron Myren Tengur, Jackson Nelson
Konoe and Yua paced in circles around their throne. It was only a fancy chair when they were not sitting in it. However, when they did, it became the center of the circle, the hub around which all of Moon Elf society spun. Now, looking at the damage which had been wrought by the goblin invaders, they had to wonder if all of their recent decisions had been correct. Yet, they kept their counsel to themselves, not including their only son, or even their trusted advisor, Archdruid Hidenori.
“You still believe that she is the beacon for our path forward?” Konoe asked his bride.
They were still not old for Moon Elves. The two sovereigns had been married for nearly one hundred years and alive for closer to two hundred, yet none could have told from looking at them. In all that time, Yua’s mercurial nature had never rubbed off onto her husband any more than his deliberate, strategic mind had changed her, and therein lay their strength. They were their own people, respecting one another but never losing what made them unique. “I don’t think like that. I leave that for you. I believe in her. That is enough,” Yua replied.
“Is it though? Would the goblins have come here but for their arrival? We don’t even know where they actually came from. Perhaps they are beacons of ill fate.”
“Are you given over to suspicions and rumors then?” Yua’s tone was almost mocking.
Konoe grimaced, but he didn’t rise to her bait. “You know as well as me what the spies report.”
“Yes, yes, some mysterious cult that moves in the shadows is pulling the strings of every great house and nation on the entire continent. Our stalkers are no doubt the best, but it is in their very nature to be suspicious, to see conspiracies all around them.”
“That doesn’t make them wrong.”
“Nor does it make them right. You have seen the ancient writings as well as I have. It was not always like this. The races were not always divided. In the old world, we all lived as one people.”
Now it was Konoe’s turn to laugh. “So you question the reports of our spy master and the scrying of our druids, but you choose to believe the legends of yesterday.”
“I choose to believe in hope, and I choose to see that hope in the vision Lady Emiri and her odd husband have cast for themselves.”
“So be it. Now though, we must decide what our role in this will be. Are we going to send the army south come spring?”
“No, I think not. What say you?” Yua answered while turning the question back upon her husband.
“I say that you are thinking the same thing as I am. This is why I love you so. You always know my mind before I even speak it,” Konoe said.
Yua sashayed around the throne for a full loop, showing off the graceful sway of her hips. “Oh I thought you loved me for other reasons.”
“Yes, and always, but mind first and mind last. What comes between is fleeting. It is that mind of yours that I savor,” Konoe said, pausing before asking, “So then, we are in agreement?”
“Yes, we are the children of the night. Who better to root out this so-called Cult of Alucien.”
King Gaspard, monarch of Faelora, rode on horseback to the training fields. Camps had been set up several miles from the capital of Galetia. The weather was still quite pleasant even in late autumn, and he wore short sleeves that showed his aging but still strong arms. He was very frustrated, but there was nothing to do but to throw himself into planning the invasion.
“Are you sure that the rest made it out of town, Captain Arseneau?” he asked in a voice which made his attitude clear.
“Yes, your majesty. There can be no doubt. All of the agents we had tailing them ended up dead or incapacitated. We were of course able to put down the first two, but the rest of Captain Max’s famed squad has fled with their tail between their legs. One might suspect that the legends of their prowess are greatly exaggerated,” the officer answered.
“One might think that if one was a buffoon. I am now certain that Miss Rosaline was a member of their squad.” Gaspard’s tone was solemn, and Captain Arseneau knew well what his liege was thinking. If there was anything that Faelorian nobles took seriously, it was their mistresses.
“That is unfortunate.” The Captain’s simple words carried a double meaning that both men understood without expanding upon. To be betrayed by a Mistress was something that many a noble had to deal with, even a king, but to have state secrets stolen and taken back to Albia, their intended target was a great loss. Yet such a loss was balanced by the experience of having bedded Leyna Odegeiss, who was in her own way as legendary as her squad leader, Maxwell Smart.
“No use crying over spilt milk. Now, ride ahead and prepare the troops for inspection. I want to see not only the footmen but also the knights and casters. We will have to move the schedule for the invasion up.”
This was the most important day in Melani’s life. The inn which had become her home for a couple of months was three days' ride behind them, and now Baron Vitchie was taking her to meet her father. Oh, she had met him before, even received small gifts from him, but always as his cast-off daughter, an extended member of the house. Now she was told that she would be publicly acknowledged as his daughter. She would be formally adopted into the family and given his last name. She would have a stepmother and a pair of brothers.
Every few miles riding in the coach she wanted to pinch herself. She fully felt like the princess of fairy tales. Still, she had wanted to ride a horse so she could get to her father’s, no, to her new home faster. Baron Vichie, however, had insisted on the carriage. He stated again and again that it wasn’t a good idea for her to ride a horse in her condition. She felt like he was very thoughtful and protective of her health and that of her baby. Melani was normally a savvy young woman, enough so that she had been able to deceive the king and the entire staff of the castle. All of that had flown out the window though, and now, she was simply a girl eager to be accepted by her father.
Vichie had hinted that her father might be able to ensure a place for her son. After more than three years of working in the castle to invisibly tend to the needs of everyone there, Melani dreamed of a triumphant return to Konig as the mother of the next king. She trusted that her father would be able to make all these dreams and more come true.
The frown on Myren Tengur’s face continued to deepen the more that he heard from Gabriella on her report about what was happening in Eris’ Rise. As a bishop of the church of Shanelle, he was used to getting his way. Some of what this Emily Nelson was doing might work out for the greater good, but the more that Myren heard about her plans for equality and her acceptance of the moon elves’ heathen ways, the more he worried that she would be impossible to control.
It was thought that there was no contact between the Old World and those on the continent of Talos, but the bishops of each of the three churches knew better. They had lines of communication with the church hierarchy in the Old World. It wasn’t exactly an open line, but in times of desperation, they could communicate. The churches had gone along with whatever had led to his ancestors being sent to Talos, but Myren could well understand why they would not give up all contact with the faithful regardless of where they lived.
Myren was a pragmatic man. He knew that Shanelle was powerful beyond his imagination. He didn’t doubt that she was a goddess. She may have even had so
mething to do with creating Eloria, but he had seen too much to believe that she had much in the way of daily dealings with people. Eloria itself and the systems in place had far more interaction with the lives of those here. Maybe it was different in the Old World, but that was an indisputable truth of life on Talos.
So he made his obeisance, and he paid his tithes. He was extremely circumspect to follow all the laws set forth to their very letter. It was with the spirit of the law that he parted ways. Myren supported charity outreaches. They were, after all, a good way to win the support of the people, and people with hungry bellies were more faithful. That faith in turn translated into control for the bishop. Control over the lives of the serfs, the freemen, the nobles, and even up into royalty. All were beholden to the Gods, or at least to the churches.
He had hoped that finding a Chosen was a sign that there was a way back to the Old World for him. He wanted to live in that land of legends where miracles of power were a daily thing. Even if there was no way back, he had been even surer that Emily Nelson would be his stepping stool to supreme control of all the churches on Talos. In Albia, Mishpat may have held the dominant position by a small sliver, but having a Chosen would elevate him and, of course, the church of Shanelle with him.
The problem was that as long as she was in Eris’ Rise, she was removed from the circles of politics, and an unused tool soon rusted. Myren’s mind was already turning, coming up with a way to ensure that Emily Nelson absolutely had to come to Konig. His frown started to turn to a smile. Yes, this would do nicely.