The Blade Guardian

by Darren Hultberg Jr

  “As am I, son,” my father added, placing a rough hand on my shoulder. “I think it’s actually my job, to keep you safe and all.” I gave him a quick smile of appreciation, which he returned with a knowing nod.

  Finally, Thamriul emerged from the back of the chamber, arms crossed and face wearing a look of boredom. “I’ll go too, but only if you promise me one thing.”

  “And what’s that?” Candor questioned.

  “If you promise me we can end this history lesson and get the hell out of here.”

  Yonda shook her head in dismay before giving us a dismissive wave. “Go, gather your things and I’ll alert my sisters in Lorethain of your pending arrival. They’ll be able to provide further instruction once you arrive.”

  “Thank you, Yonda, for everything,” I said, giving the woman a slight bow. “And thanks again for keeping Hilda safe.”

  “My pleasure,” the seer responded. “Now go… and may the Kraken wrap you in his warm embrace.”

  I masked a smile on my face as we departed. Worshipping a god nicknamed the dammed Kraken… now that was one thing I didn’t think I’d ever get used to.

  ><><

  Shortly after our meeting with Yonda, the party split up to tie off any loose ends before our trip to Lorethain. My father went to the guild hall to commission supplies and bid his guildmates farewell, while Thamriul went to the market to stock up on rations and wine skins.

  That left just Hilda and I to peruse the city. After doubling back to the temple to get any lingering wounds mended, we made our way over to the city’s armory. There, Hilda used her share of profits from the thieves’ guild raid to have a new set of armor fitted.

  Traveler’s Plate

  A suit of armor crafted from thin plates of darksilver and woven together by a layer of black leather, this armor provides the wearer moderate protection while still offering full range of motion.

  Hilda still wasn’t too keen on wearing a heavy suit of armor as she preferred fighting in her imperious stance. Still, after enough melee clashes she had come to accept the necessity for some armor.

  “Zan… I just wanted to say that I’m happy for you,” Hilda blurted out as we made our way out of the armory and down the dimly lit road.

  “Uh, what do you mean?” I asked, giving the guardian a peculiar look.

  “You did it, Zan…” she replied. “You found your father, and you didn’t even have to find a way home to do it.” She was trying so hard to remain strong, but her voice began to crack as the words left her mouth.

  Immediately, I stepped in front of the woman and placed a hand on each of her shoulders, my eyes gazing directly into alluring, hazel orbs. “Listen… no matter what happens, I’ll find a way for you to connect with home. I’ll find a way…”

  “But you said—”

  “Forget what I said. If it’s possible to cross the cosmos… if elves and dragons and demons and magickk really exist, then there has to be a way to find your family. I love you Hil…. Once we put an end to these... these Asurans, then we’ll find a way.”

  Hilda leaned forward, resting her head on my shoulder. “I’m so damn selfish,” she said, hiding her face from view.

  “No,” I replied, running my fingers through her long hair. “You’re strong and caring and brave and… and you’re perfect.”

  Hilda chuckled as she peeled her head away from my shoulder before giving me a sly grin. “And you’ve gone mad.”

  “Perhaps,” I replied, smiling back. “But that’s part of my charm.”

  Hilda shook her head dismissively as she took my hand in hers, and together we continued on our way.

  ><><

  After the armory, we made our way back to the Tidecallers’ guildhall where they afforded us a room for the night. Hilda was still in a bit of a strange mood after her entrapment... she didn’t mention it though, and I didn’t ask. I had to admit, I was thoroughly surprised when I left our chamber for a few moments, only to return and find her armor removed, her body laid bare. Our eyes met, and I could see the vulnerability in her gaze, an unsteadiness that flickered beneath the flames of passion. Without speaking, I let my long black coat slide off my shoulders and fall to the floor as I crossed the room. And then, bathed in moonlight streaming in from the chamber’s open window, we embraced.

  PART 3

  The Temple of Blades

  22

  Side Quest: Brenton

  Brenton sat cross-legged in his cell, eagerly awaiting the guard to bring him his daily meal... a tray of pasty, tasteless slop. It wasn’t that he was particularly hungry (he was), or that he craved that sparse little bit of human attention (he did). No... more than anything, Brenton was sick and tired of rotting in this cell beneath Ravenhold, and today was the day he was going to escape.

  The runecaster glanced up to the ceiling where a large, blue glyph let off a faint blue glow. It was a glyph placed in every cell, a tool used to prevent the prisoner from accessing their magickk. That should have left Brenton all but useless... but he was far too clever for that.

  A few moments passed in silence until finally the door to the cell block creaked open and a raven guard entered with a cart of unappetizing meals. It took a bit, but eventually the guard reached Brenton’s chamber and slid a metal tray through a slit at the bottom of the door.

  “Thank you,” Brenton said with feigned enthusiasm, but the guard didn’t bother a response. Just as well, he wouldn’t be liking Brenton much very soon anyways. As soon as the guard completed his pass, the runecaster lifted his bowl of soupy slop off his tray and set it on the floor.

  It was time to go to work.

  Brenton dipped two fingers into the lukewarm soup, then quickly began to finger-paint on his tray. It was a symbol that he’d traced hundreds of times with his fingers... the rune to activate one of his favorite spells.

  A few more moments passed as he held the tray out with steady hands, carefully blowing on the makeshift rune as he waited for the soup-made-paint to congeal. Suddenly, the door to the cell block creaked again as the guard returned to retrieve the empty trays, banging on each door one by one until the prisoners slid their tray back through the metal slot. Most of the prisoners were complacent, realizing that failure to comply would mean an entire day without a meal. If only they were creative as he was.

  Finally, the guard approached Brenton’s cell and banged on the bars, awaiting the runecaster’s tray. Very slowly, Brenton slid the tray through the slot, waiting very patiently for….

  It was time! Brenton leapt towards the bars of the cell as the guard began to yank his tray away, blurting out the words “activate rune: binding!”

  The instant the guard removed the tray from the cell, it fell out of range of the anti-magickk glyph. Then, to the runecaster’s delight, his binding rune that he’d scribbled on the tray came to life. The guard winced as every muscle in his body froze, leaving him unable to move, unable to cry out for help…. and unable to stop Brenton from reaching his arm through the bars and retrieving the cell key from his belt.

  “Sorry about that,” Brenton quipped as he reached around for the lock and promptly let himself out of the cell. “I didn’t want to have to do this to you, but that anti-magickk glyph in my cell really didn’t afford me any other options.” Carefully, the runecaster began to remove the raven guard’s armor, until the man was left standing in nothing but his undergarments. “Oh, and I’m really sorry about this.” With his magickk restored, the runecaster used two fingers to etch a rune into the guard’s chest. “Activate rune: detonate.”

  An explosion erupted on the man’s chest, catapulting him across the cell block and into the far wall where he crumbled into an unconscious heap, not dead but certainly not rising anytime soon.

  After taking a quick look around to ensure no other guards were lurking, Brenton carefully adorned the guard’s armor and pulled the raven hood over his head. He couldn’t help grin… he’d picked up the disguise skill in the early days of his journey on A
etheria but had never had the proper chance to employ it. It happened to be just another trick that he kept securely up his sleeve…. At least until now.

  Voices rang out from the cells as Brenton prepared to take his leave from the cell block. “Free us! Let us out!” they yelled as hands reached through the bars, grabbing at his arms.

  Brenton took a step back as his mind began to analyze the situation. These people were captives just like he was…. they deserved their freedom just as much as him. But on the other hand, what if some of them were truly criminals? How would he feel if he loosed them back into the world? And then there was the matter of his escape... a group of prisoners running through the halls could certainly put a damper on things.

  Brenton rubbed at his temples… why did he have to be so analytical? Why couldn’t he just follow his gut for once in his damn life?

  “You have a seizure there, Brent?” a familiar, snarky female voice called out from one of the chambers. Brenton turned to his left and fixated his gaze on the scarlet-haired woman pressing her face into the bars of her cell… that snarky, beautiful, aggravating woman!

  “Helena!” Brenton yelled as he rushed over to her cell. “Thank the gods you’re not dead.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Now hurry up and bust me outta here.”

  With a shaky hand, Brenton released the lock on her cell door, freeing the sultry warlock from captivity.

  “Are you ok?” he asked, watching as the woman made a show of stretching her muscular limbs.

  “Well enough,” she replied. “Though I could use a damn shower. What the hell were you planning on doing, anyways?”

  Brenton sighed. “Well, I was going to find Rhegar and get as far away from this place as possible.”

  “You were going to leave me here?” Helena asked, crossing her arms and shooting the man a smug look.

  Brenton shrugged. “To be honest, I thought you might’ve been dead. I saw...” Brenton began to choke up. “I saw Wesley kill Zander, right after he took this demonic form.”

  Rather than get upset, Helena merely gave the runecaster a quizzical stare. “Are you sure?”

  “I saw it happen. He ran Zander through with a giant blade!”

  Helena sighed, pulling up her interface and scrolling down to her friends list. There she read off the names Zander and Hilda, both quite alive. “Nope. Both still kickin,” she said nonchalantly, drawing a wide-eyed look from the runecaster. How could he have been so foolish? Was he really too damn busy wallowing in his own self-pity that he forgot to check his interface?

  “We need to find them,” Brenton muttered, gathering his thoughts as the feelings of shock wore off. “We need to get to them before Wesley does.”

  “First we have to get out of this hole,” Helena muttered, gazing about the dingy cell block.

  Brenton grinned as his ever-thinking mind finally produced something of value. “I think I may have an idea...”

  23

  Sidequest: Helena

  Helena walked down the long hallway leading to the end of the cell block, the tight fabric of her black robes hugging her body as she trudged on. Damn, was she ever sick and tired of looking at the crumbling stone walls of her cell, of smelling the putrid stink of the filthy prisoner emanating from the cell next to her. Hell, she hadn’t bathed in days and she still didn’t stink that bad!

  Ah well, she thought to herself. She’d be out of this hole soon. All she had to do was follow the plan and....

  “Hey! What are you doing?!” a raven guard shouted as he entered the cell block, eyeing Helena with a suspicious stare.

  “Please... help,” Helena replied in the most innocent of tones. She bowed low as the man approached, giving him an eyeful of her black robe’s plunging neckline.

  “You should... a...” The man seemed completely flustered as he tried to formulate a response, unable to take his eyes off of Helena’s alluring curves. She bit down on her bottom lip as her gaze met his, putting a huge smile on the man’s face that he just couldn’t seem to get rid of.

  The guard appeared to be quite young and carried an awkward demeanor as he stumbled forward to face the warlock... she could sense his excitement, his unease... she could see it in the redness of his cheeks. This man was exactly what she was looking for... easy prey.

  “Can you give me a hand, soldier?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow as she laid a hand delicately on his shoulder.

  “Uh.... s-s-sure,” he replied. He stared hard at her face, seemingly trying to work something out in his mind. “Wait,” he finally continued. “Weren’t you one of the captives?”

  Helena shot the man a look of surprise. He wasn’t one of the normal cell guards, but rather a patrolman that had toured the cell block a few times in passing, and not once had he communicated with Helena.

  She could see the indecisiveness in his gaze... he wasn’t sure what to do but she could tell he was growing nervous. Well, she would just have to speed things up.

  “No, no. I would never be caught dead in one of those cells. I was in the main hall and my familiar scurried off somewhere... damned finicky nature Sprite.”

  “They are the most curious ones,” the guard replied with a smile, his tone lightening.

  “You... you don’t know where he might’ve gone, do you?” she asked, running her soft fingertips down the length of his arm.

  The guard looked around nervously, as if checking to see if anyone was around. Then he moved in close, his voice no more than a whisper. “I don’t think I’m supposed to tell you this,” he said with a grin, “but there’s a large chamber down the hall, always guarded by a couple of guys way higher up on the totem pole than me. Rumor is the room they’re guarding is filled with sprites. Who knows... maybe your Sprite ended up in there.”

  Helena shrugged, as if to say “yeah, maybe.”

  The guard continued. “I’m not too sure what the purpose of the room is, but I bet if you ask one of the guild officers nicely, they can check it out for you.”

  “Where did you say it was?” Helena asked, carefully draping her arms over his shoulders.

  “J-just west of the cell block,” he muttered, eyes locked on the woman’s full lips. “Through the iron doors and straight to the end of the hall.”

  Helena smiled as she leaned in to give the man a soft kiss on the cheek before uttering a single pair of words... “Thank you.”

  Then came the hard knee to the groin.

  The guard doubled over in pain as Helena cast her chains of corruption spell, entrapping the man as he gazed at her with eyes full of betrayal. “No offense,” she said nonchalantly before delivering another hard kick to the young man’s stomach, “but you’re not my type.”

  Casually, the warlock strolled back to the center of the cell block where Brenton and the others quietly waited behind bars for her return.

  “How’d it go?” he asked, pushing open the door to his cell once more.

  “Found em. This level. Western corridor. Two guards,” she replied. “Now unlock the others, and let’s go make this place burn.”

  ><><

  Simon and Dravus of the raven guard stood lazily in front of the iron door, doing everything they could to keep from dozing off as the minutes passed by. Occasionally one of the guild mages would enter or exit the mysterious room, giving the men a nod as they passed, though that was about the sum of their daily excitement... and what the hell were they guarding, anyways?

  It wouldn’t matter in the end... after all, neither of them noticed the scarlet-haired woman marching in their direction or the soft, red glow emanating from her palm. By the time they did spot her, it was already too late.

  “Hey! Stop right there!” one of them yelled, lifting a spear and pointing it in her direction.

  “Sure,” she replied with a smile. “Though I can’t say the same for my friend.” Helena immediately fell into a soft chant, her eyes glowing red as a circular portal of energy began to open at her feet.

  “Stop her!” Simon yelled
, fumbling with the sword tied to his waist as Dravus valiantly charged in, spear in hand. The guard grinned as he came within a few feet of Helena, certain that his spear tip would plunge into her shoulder and drop her low. He didn’t want to kill her, not yet. First, he would incapacitate her, and then he would find out what the hell was going on...

  If he only knew how wrong he really was.

  A thick, crimson arm reached out of the portal, snatching the spear out of the air and snapping it with a squeeze. Shortly after came the obsidian-horned head, the torso and the snapping tail of Helena’s summon, the source of her warlock pride.

  Helena had summoned the demon, Karzzroth.

  After recently pouring all of her skill points into the warlock’s demonology tree, she’d acquired the passive ability to summon demonic servants without the use of spell components. Even better, the creatures she summoned were subservient, viewing her as one of their matrons due to her strong connection with the infernal realm. Karzzroth just happened to be her favored summon.

  “Go, my love... kill them for me,” Helena said, her voice soft in comparison to the demon’s abrasive nature. The demon quickly obliged, lowering its horned head and charging forward as it stabbed the obsidian points into the first guard’s chest.

  The man cried out in agony as his health reticle depleted and his warm blood sprayed across the demon’s horrific face. Without pause, the demon hoisted him into the air and charged into the other guard, stabbing its horns through both of the men’s fleshy torsos and creating a giant squirming mass of blood and gore.

  The infernal creature pressed the men into the iron door, giving them a violent shake every so often as their health points depleted alongside their precious lifeblood. Helena looked on with a smirk on her face, watching as her demon did her bidding in visceral fashion. Yes, she would show these dammed ravens what would happen when you crossed a warlock of Aetheria.