by Quil Carter
The only trees found in this area were thin elms, dogwood, and scrawny birch or alder. The soil was too rocky for anything more, including foodlands. Nothing grew properly here. It was mostly used to farm sheep, goats or other grass-loving animals.
Malagant hid his hands as Teal got them a room. To save Malagant the embarrassment of having to be fed in front of the village elves, Teal brought their food up to their room. Stale oat bread, fried otter meat, still bloody, and second-harvest potatoes with a thin gravy. Not a meal for kings, but it was warm and filling.
Teal wordlessly fed Malagant. He didn’t try to talk to him during. Malagant appreciated this even if he did miss his friend talking. Having to be fed was humiliating without trying to force conversation; even more so the reality that he might never feed himself again.
At least Josiah liked feeding things… anyone or anything he could get a hold of, he fed. Whether it be a baby bird, a passing traveller, or their father. Josiah loved nothing better than to heal and take care of things. He was a sunmage like Anagin, but that is where the similarities ended. His father knew blackmagic better than anyone in Alcove; sunhealing was just his natural talent. Anagin didn’t like taking care of things, but it was his duty and he did it. His father’s penchant was for blackmagic and peering into elves’ minds, or altering them. Anagin had a talent for reading elves and seeing into their heads. It had made growing up with him difficult. Like being the one to tell Malagant and his brother they were chayle before they even knew what it meant, or telling Josiah he was a sunmage like him.
And that I was useless, weak, over emotional… Malagant said bitterly, though he snorted in spite of himself. I’m dying from infection and, of course, I still have to get cross over my issues with my father. Oh, what I would give if that was my only problem. What simple life I used to lead.
Teal cleared Malagant’s plate, and gave him his pill beans to take and helped him drink his vials.
“Sleep… please, Teal,” Malagant whispered as he crawled his sore body into the hay-stuffed bed. “Come lay with me.”
Teal gave a slow blink; his dead eyes looked out their single window. A smaller house across the street was their only view. The setting sun was behind it, disappearing into the ocean of green, like the dragon himself was swallowing the sun.
“I’ll be fine,” was Teal’s response. He was sitting rigidly in a wooden chair beside the fire. His mouth was slacked, only accentuating his state. Most likely he had taken more of Ben’s drugs… though maybe they would make him fall asleep. He seemed to nod off when he took more than one.
This gave Malagant an idea. “I’ll let you take another one, if you’ll lay with me until I fall asleep,” he said. If he just got Teal to lay down, once the second one kicked in he’d be sleeping beside him.
Teal nodded, and dug through his backpack. Malagant sighed with relief as Teal crawled into bed with him. He laid on his side with his head on Malagant’s shoulder and his hand on Malagant’s chest.
Twenty minutes later Teal was snoring lightly. Malagant shakily raised his hand, and with his left thumb, a digit that had received the least amount of abuse, he gently scratched Teal behind the ears.
To Malagant’s bewildered amusement, Teal started to purr. Never in his life had Malagant heard a hibrid purr before. It was astonishing and, in all respects, quite cute.
Malagant smiled to himself and closed his eyes, the purring had a rather calming effect.
Everything was falling apart around him, but he had a small victory today – Teal was asleep and at least in that sleep… he was content and calm.
Malagant awoke a few hours later, when the dragon had swallowed the sun and only a sliver of moon lit the plains. To his relief, Teal was still asleep in his arms, and there was a damp patch of drool on his shirt sleeve.
Malagant carefully got up to find the bathroom; he stepped out into the hallway and walked downstairs. The inn was mostly empty, the inn keeper wasn’t at his desk anymore, but the tavern glowed with a small fire and he could hear mumbling voices and the clinking of glasses.
After relieving himself (which was also a difficult task to do with his useless hands), he made his way to the stairs, but as he walked through the doorway he overheard a group of elves talking in the tavern area of the inn.
“Azrayne. Completely taken over. Philrick’s gone, same with the eldest son. The rest of the castle council have been put to the blade or put to the mage,” a rough voice said. Malagant could hear elves making noises of disbelief.
“How did they get in? I thought they had barriers that rivalled King Saven in Talynkeep. Erick’s teeth, my wife has family in Azrayne.”
“A malkah did it, an exiled cousin of King Keballos Amaus, and a powerful one too. Rumour is Amren Tolney has turned turncloak and helped him. He all but disappeared when the Serpents came.”
Malagant felt a hiss of air escape his lips; he leaned against the wall separating the hall from the tavern. That was Tseer. So the bounty hunter had been busy had he?
Malagant wanted to go in there and seek more information, but he didn’t know who those voices belonged to. With his luck it could be Serpents, or some elf of foul intent. Though he could hide his hands there was no hiding his sick appearance or the smell. Even if they were elves or even village folk, in these times it didn’t take more than an opportunity to rob sick and weak travellers.
“Nowhere is safe, and you know whose fault it is? The shekin’ Lelanders, the Squirrels. Korivander is stirring up trouble. Rumour has it the Jewel of Elron has slipped from the demigod’s grasp and the Lelanders are fighting Erick for it.”
You moron… Malagant said to himself in his head but craned his ear to hear more.
“–just left Erick alone, Azrayne would be safe. No though, I bet the Lelanders seek Alcove for themselves,” the first elf said. “Travellers say the lord and steward of the Lelan Islands, Kordalis, is making his way to Valewind to attend a council. A council of what? It speaks for itself.”
Even if that was true, I’d rather the Lelanders have Alcove than that false human king, Malagant thought to himself.
“I’d rather a Lelan King than a usurping Dashavian with accalites and raptorlizards by the score,” another elf snorted. Malagant nodded with him, even though no one could see him. “I would take up arms to put a Lelan king on the throne, anyone but Erick. My cousin was slaughtered like a borsow in the takeover, my uncle too. My brother Gonir is brainwashed and bending knees to the priests as we speak.”
Another elf scoffed. “Whatever it is, as long as they don’t bother me, who cares? King Erick never made the soil rich; he never made the rains come. Let the highborns tear each other apart for the crown and the jewel. Just keep me and my children out of it. I care not.”
He heard murmurs of agreeance and the clinking of cups. Malagant had heard enough, he walked upstairs and back to their room.
He took another drink of tonic and slipped back into his bed. He put his arms around Teal and rested his chin on Teal’s head.
Azrayne had been one of his favourite cities to go to. It had always been safe. The magic protecting it was strong and impenetrable. It had been the safest place in Alcove besides Lelan Hold. To hear Tolney had turned turncloak was a sobering thought. His father Anagin had trained under him for a while during the war; his father had always enjoyed his company and counsel.
Now Azrayne was Serpent-controlled and Philrick was captured. Malagant closed his eyes, his thoughts swimming. He remembered back to a line in the prophecies.
They will not find thee. No matter how loud the tortured scream…
He knew Philrick would be screaming loudly. Had any of the other Hold Lords told Philrick of their destination? He didn’t know, he hoped not.
Malagant shifted, trying to find a position that didn’t hurt his hands as much. Did it even matter anymore if he did though? With Ben gone, his hands rotting off, and Teal emotionally destroyed and dead to the world, they were in no state to save Alcove. Th
e jewels on their necks might have well been glass.
The prophecy walkers had to be together, that was now as obvious to him as the darkened sky. If Ben was dead, their mission was over; the pendants would be Erick’s and the priests. If being directed to Birch was the last thing the prophecy wanted of them, so they could wait out their eventual execution, then that was a fate he could no longer avoid. At least it would be a break from the pain… damn, did his hands ever hurt.
Ben, my funny little human… I miss you. I want you to be safe. I would pray for it, but the gods are gone, there is no use in calling them with prayer. What about you, Kelakheva? Would you watch over Ben? Or could I be so full of madness as to hope Ben will be waiting in Birch for us? The gods would be so kind…
And if there was one thing Malagant had learned, it was that the gods were not kind.
After refreshing some of their supplies in the small shops in the village, the next morning they carried on towards Birch. The good night’s sleep had helped them, Teal was looking a little bit more alert, but he was still distant to Malagant and the world around him.
Teal had stayed asleep the entire night, nestled in Malagant’s arms. Because of their sleeping arrangements it was usually Ben that Teal curled up next to and occasionally it was Ben who Malagant woke up to with an arm around his chest. It was a nice change, but damn was Teal ever clingy. It was cute and Malagant didn’t mind it, but he wondered how Ben got sleep at all with all of the tossing, turning, and muttering. Teal’s nightmares seemed to ravage him in his sleep, but they all went away with a scratch on the head or a gentle stroke behind the ears.
I hope I get the chance to show Ben how to make Teal purr. He would get such a kick out of it. Perhaps when Ben’s back and we catch him asleep… me and Teal can try and make him purr too.
The day dragged on but Malagant managed. He was swallowing more tonics than water now it seemed, and still his hands continued to get worse.
The news the elves at the tavern had given him had only made his prospects bleaker. He had decided not to share with Teal what he had heard. Azrayne falling to Erick would rattle the nerves of all of the holds, especially Azoria. Even if Ben was reunited with them, it would mean dodging even more hostility and destruction once they crossed the borderlands to the east hold of Alcove. More Serpents to dodge and more desperate elves wanting to feed their families or take advantage of everyone’s dire state.
Malagant wondered who would be Lord of Azoria now, with Philrick gone. Though if Erick didn’t kill him he might just brainwash him and put him back in charge. With how the prophecies were functioning perhaps the protection that was on the Hold Lords was gone now? Maybe Erick would finally be able to brainwash them? Would Rhastt fall next? Were the Hold Lords who had obeyed Erick now in danger?
Everything seemed like such a mess now.
Azrayne had been a pillar of resistance to the Draken King…
Now it was gone, the last free town of Alcove was gone. What shreds of resistance that Azrayne had helped feed would no doubt fall to ashes as well. What did Ben’s brother want with Azrayne? Did he not have better things to peruse than kidnap the Lord of Azoria? Like try and find the jewel for one? That was what Tseer was supposed to be doing… but no, he had been given a new job.
This confused Malagant, but in a way it gave him relief that he didn’t have to worry about Tseer finding them again. Erick was either stupid or incredibly smart, Malagant could never figure out which one. Especially after it was revealed that he was a drug-addicted human just like Ben had been. He could very well be an unpredictable moron… or he could be a gods-be-damned genius. Moving his pieces across a bigger board and a bigger picture that the pendant carrying prophecy walkers weren’t even aware of.
And here we are, crippled, crazy, and fallen. With the King of Alcove taking over impenetrable cities. Malagant kicked a rock, though it just ended up making him stumble. That thought made him madder as he said it to himself in his head. The truth of it was biting. The gods must be fools to intrust this mission on them. This was no gods’ game, this was a suicide mission. How is this a game? When you beat mice with a hammer you don’t call that a game. It’s only a game when the poor fools are given a chance.
Malagant looked over at his stoic-faced friend. He wished Teal would speak… he hated being alone with his own thoughts.
That evening Teal at least acknowledged that Malagant was there. Teal had helped him change his bandages, but Malagant could see his face drop when he unravelled the brown and yellow-stained binds. The smell was unavoidable and impossible to ignore.
Malagant’s hands were swollen with fluid, which leaked yellow out of the moonsilk stitches. Elevating them as much as he could had been helping but it seemed everything they tried was only stalling the inevitable.
“Chaka…” Teal whispered, his voice oddly low. Teal’s normal voice had always been slightly higher than Ben’s and his own, not shrill but just an octave or two higher.
“I’m going to lose them,” Malagant sighed. He tried to move his fingers but they were stiff and frozen in place.
Teal reached into his pocket and gave him another orange pill. Malagant shook his head. “Might as well save it, earth stuff doesn’t seem to work on elves.”
“Three pills at a time… we’ll use it all, but… but we have to try,” Teal said, his voice still odd. Malagant still couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d talked to this different side of Teal before, but he couldn’t pinpoint when.
It wasn’t Tav – I had seen Tav when he touched his emerald pendant to my own. I had seen Tav by the riverside.
Cold Teal wiped Malagant’s forehead and took out Malagant’s long dagger. Their eyes locked.
“I’m going to try and drain them,” Teal said soberly.
Malagant nodded, a moment later he felt a prick in the palm of his hands, and the blinding pain of Teal squeezing. He watched as a dribble of pus leaked out of the puncture mark, mixing with his blood.
“I… I wish I had a tube to put a drain in… but anything I can think of would just infect it more,” Teal said, his hands covered in Malagant’s pus and blood.
Malagant didn’t answer back; he was biting down on his lip too hard. He had stopped trying to be brave about the pain long ago.
Teal took out the bottle of merile. Malagant immediately found a whine come to his lips. That shek burned like hell when it was applied, even more so if you already had an infection going.
Teal wordlessly gave him a stick to bite down on, and filled a small bucket of warm water to make the soaking solution.
Malagant looked down at his hands. The moon thread almost invisible over the blood, pus, and swollen dying flesh. He only knew where most of the thread was through the tight, pursed area of his hands, where they had been trying to knit back together before infection had halted it. Now his hands boiled to the touch, and smelly pus leaked through with every slight movement. Two of his fingernails had fallen off as well, several others were black and starting to detach.
As Malagant bit down hard on the stick and his hands submerged into the hot merile water, amputation crossed his mind for the first time. It had been moving like a shadow on the edges of his consciousness for the last several days but he had never seriously considered it. But as the pain made him slip in and out of consciousness he started to wish he no longer had hands at all.
How can I save Alcove without hands?
It doesn’t matter anymore, without Ben we failed the prophecies… that’s why your hands are going to decay and fall off, if not poison you. You failed, you let Taugis kill Ben.
Malagant groaned; he felt Teal hold him steady as the dizziness and pain overwhelmed him. Teal gripped his arms tight and Malagant could hear him speak to him in a low tone.
You worthless demigod… how could we follow the prophecies when they barely wrote? You gave us no guide… you only told us to go to Rhastt then abandon our search for our prophecy walker… our friend.
This prophe
cy was a joke… the demigod was a joke.
“Stay with me, Malagant,” the other Teal said, his voice steady.
“Who are you? I know – I know you’re not Teal,” Malagant gasped, spitting the broken stick out of his mouth. He swayed off to the side. Teal caught him swiftly and pulled him back up. He grabbed Malagant’s shoulder and directed him off of the rock he was slumped on, so he was sitting on the plains. He rubbed the orange salve on Malagant’s hands, the salve quickly turning back to oil under the heat of the infection.
Suddenly Teal’s face became hard. He looked to his left, his hands dropping from Malagant’s.
“No, we’re travellers on the way to Birch,” Teal said. Malagant raised his head; he looked over to see who Teal was talking to.
He almost swore out loud. Five elves, dressed in Serpent garb, were standing beside the cluster of trees they had decided to camp against.
All five were holding torches in their hands which made light reflect on their chainmail shirts and the longswords strapped to their sides. However that was the only place that reflected the fire’s flickering glow, their pupils sucked in the light it didn’t hold it. It was the telltale sign of a brainwashed knight; Malagant always felt ill when he saw it.
“Care to share your fire, hibrid?” one of the Serpents said. “We are weary from the day’s travel, doing our rounds in chainmail always tires the Lazarian faction of the Serpent Knights of Alcove,” he said in a dry, low chuckle.
Then his eyes shot to Malagant.
Malagant turned away, cursing his luck. He knew him, of course he knew him. He was a knight underneath Malagant when he was doing his training, but his name was lost on him.