“Only by the protection of the Guardians.”
“The gods are with us this day,” Jarin said. “My men secured your carriages and found this on the bench. I believe this is yours, is it not?”
Wosen sheathed his swords, taking his guardian bow. “There’s no other like it in all of Faélondul.” He motioned behind him. “The Zaontras is with Sir Middleton in that copse.”
Jarin issued orders to his men, and they disappeared into the trees. After signaling to his guards, Jarin led Wosen to a small cart.
“Do you know these men?”
“These two are citadel guards,” Wosen said. “They commanded the trailing carriage. And this one was supposed to be guarding our left flank.”
Jarin nodded. “These men are in league with Molag Bomgaard. We recently learnt of their true allegiance as well as a dozen of our own men. We’ll return to Yarah and interrogate them there. My father has prepared for Lady and Lord Benoist’s arrival, and sent a message to Nazil as well. The Zaxson should be arriving soon, and I don’t think it’s wise to return to Nazil until after that time. Your usual accommodations await you and Sir Middleton, but first we must tend to the Zaxson’s family.” Jarin looked at Nakaris, curiously. “And your Second Chosen. He doesn’t seem quite himself.”
Premonition
The pale appendages reached up like serpents coiling around their prey. Their horrid, misshapen faces bore strange, wicked smirks. Slaver oozed from their ragged maws as their feral shrieks and shrill clicks echoed around the vastness of the null.
“The darkness you serve shall be defeated,” he heard himself yell into the emptiness that surrounded him.
“I don’t serve the darkness,” the wraith retorted. “I AM the darkness!” She released an eldritch shriek, her mouth contorting and elongating as the ear-piercing timbre caused him to shield his ears. With a mordant outbreath, a white gaseous veil spewed from the wraith’s mouth, engulfing him and surrounding the platform. The warrior fell back, blinking within the blinding pall and wielding his weapon. All about him was nothing but white, and the sting from the noxious cloud distorted his already obstructed vision.
He was suspended in darkness, and then light—a cloud of nothing. Only the platform and those that encircled it remained. The blade extended again, just missing its mark.
“You cannot defeat what you cannot see,” the wraith taunted, jabbing her sword into the warrior’s shoulder.
He gnashed his teeth, drawing the dagger from his waist, slashing down at the withered hand on his calf. The touch of the damned burned his flesh, pulsating like the heat of a thousand fires. He yelled out, fighting against the bite of the imp’s touch, and the infernal wraith’s blade.
“Loss is death.” The disembodied voice echoed from everywhere and nowhere. He could feel the strength of those words as surely as he could hear them. As he stood on the platform, jutting precariously out of the abyss, the continuing waves of reverberance seemed to strengthen him.
Another hand seized his ankle. He kicked at it instinctively, stomping on the appendages that were relentlessly grasping and pulling. With a roar from the pit of his stomach, he spun a circle on the platform, feeling the presence of the Ke’ohnzi . He wasn’t alone. This fight wasn’t his. He was there, but he wasn’t.
Symeon raised a hand to the image of himself—the effigy suspended in the abyss.
“Ayrmeis,” he breathed, realizing that truth. He could only watch the battle unfolding before him. “Ayrmeis,” he said again, witnessing the demonic form of the wraith swoop down toward him, extending her claws.
“Guardians, help me,” he yelled in desperation, overcome by the malevolence enveloping him. He raised his sword high, meeting the oncoming demon’s charge, only to have it knocked away as she shrieked, swiping out at him.
“Plamahje r’aymed tr’eon ,” [69] whispered melodiously in his ears before his image plunged a sword into the ground. A flash of pure energy erupted from the eddying aperture, surging over the warrior. The luminous pulse of the ensuing gush sent not only the mage, but also the impish fiends encircling him adrift in the nocuous cloud. The demon’s screech echoed while the luminescent energy exploded and sparked, drawing the gaseous cloud and those about it within the aperture.
“No!” Symeon shouted, bolting up in the bed.
“Husband?”
“Sarai? Sarai?” he blinked, causing the fog veiling his eyes to dissipate. “Sarai,” he said again, hugging her close to his chest.
“Yes, Symeon, I’m here. What’s wrong? What happened?”
“I—I don’t know. It was Ayrmeis. He—he was a man grown, and, I don’t know how or why, but I know he was there. It was him, and it wasn’t. I saw only myself, but it wasn’t truly me. It was Ayrmeis and—and a wraith.”
“Ayrmeis? I don’t understand. Ayrmeis is but an infant, how could you have seen him as a man?”
“I can’t explain it to you any more than I can to myself,” he said, wiping the sweat from his face. “There’s a connection, some symbiosis I feel from him. I don’t know how to make you understand, Sarai.
“I thought my love for you caused me to mourn losing our son. It reaches beyond that, and I should’ve tried harder to help you understand. My connection, my place in Ayrmeis’ life is greater than I could’ve ever imagined. Ayrmeis will need me, Sarai, just as I’ll need him.” He rose up, grabbing his clothes.
“Symeon, I don’t understand, Ayrmeis is the Zaxson’s son. What connection could you have? Please, you’re scaring me, Husband. I didn’t want to hurt you by accepting Ayrmeis as my son. I grieve at his absence, but I promise to give you as many sons as you desire. Your connection will be with them. Please, forgive what I’ve done, please.”
He sighed, taking a seat next to his wife. The pain in her eyes was reminiscent of what he’d seen after she refused her son. She loved Ayrmeis, just as he did, and regretted their decision now more than before. He didn’t know what was to come, but he knew that Ayrmeis’ place was with them.
“Sarai, this doesn’t change my love for you or any child we may have. You denied your love for Ayrmeis, and I understand why you did.” He reached out, cupping her face in his hand.
“I would’ve loved him as my own. They were not just words, my wife, I meant them as truly then as I do now. I failed you and him, and have caused both our suffering at his absence. Now, I know that I’ll have a place in his life beyond that of First Chosen. Mayhaps this was always meant to be.”
“How?”
“This I cannot know until I do. I’ll need to send a message to Kuhani. That was no mere dream, and I’m trepidatious regarding its implications. Some way, I must ascertain the truth.”
Wrath of Lilinth
Allister hesitated as he approached the weathered cabin. He never wanted to return to Sanctium, and after his perilous trek to the Dessalonian Mountains, that almost came to be. He knew, even if his daughter didn’t, that the Cha not only communicated with this creature, but also sustained it. That truth alone was disheartening, and made him question numerous aspects of his life. The Cha were goodly priests, or so he’d believed. But now, after his own experiences, he had to admit that no one purporting to serve the gods would suffer such evil to thrive.
“No. Not gods. Demons,” he muttered, feeling the hackles on his neck stand on end.
He licked the dryness from his lips, slipping a hand into the inner pocket of his cloak, gliding his fingers over the shard’s smooth surface. He recalled the magnificence of the shard after he’d pried the stone shielding it away. Never had he seen such a gem, and gazing into its glittering facets had stirred something within him.
The shard was smooth on all sides but one. The rougher side was jagged, with circular indentations along its edge. The recessed notch at its end was smooth except for a small protrusion inside. The other end came to a sharp point, so fine and honed that he’d sliced open his finger when prying it up from the ground.
He closed his eyes, tracing his f
ingertips over the rough edge. A warmth coursed through him then, accompanied by a soothing draw, urging him to tighten his grasp.
Allister shuddered, the serenity being replaced with familiar images and sounds. He saw a beautiful woman, as pale as the fresh snow in Dessalonia. She swirled around him, her clothing drifting away as though someone had tugged at the seams, revealing the naked beauty beneath. When she spun around him again, he saw her as she truly was. There was no beauty in that image, that honest vision of the beast that had brutalized him and his daughter.
I cannot. I can’t give her the means to destroy Faélondul . Before he’d finished the thought, a chilling zephyr erupted beneath his feet.
Allister stifled a scream, watching a spectral form materializing from the dust. His trembling hand reached out for it, but it passed through the shapeless, white cloud, leaving a chill greater than that he’d suffered in the mountains.
“Mah’saahc offers you no choice,” an otherworldly voice hissed. The cloud gained form and definition, grasping onto his hand. Allister screamed, feeling icy tendrils stabbing into his flesh.
“Please! No!” he pleaded, crumpling on his knees. Allister resisted against the pull, only for it to tighten, drilling into his skin. He cried out, half-crawling across the dirt, attempting to lessen the pull from the viscid cloud.
As the door swung open, strident laughter erupted around him, both taunting and seductive all at once. Allister cried out again, being slung across the room, landing face-down on the floor. He groaned, cradling the throbbing arm that the tendrils had lacerated to the bone.
“Do you think that Mah’saahc doesn’t know your mind?” Lilinth said, turning him roughly on his back with her foot. “Or is the love you profess for your fair Nikolina not as perfervid as you believe?”
Allister’s head lulled, looking up at her woozily. Lilinth’s form had reverted to the alluring lie she’d donned when he’d first seen her. The split in her gown exposed her long, milky legs, removing the wretchedness of her true nature from his mind. His only thoughts were being between them, tasting and pleasing her as long and as much as she demanded. He swallowed hard, fighting against that draw, that desire to sample every part of the breathtaking beauty. When his eyes found her full, ruby lips, she exposed her jagged, yellow teeth.
He gasped, tumbling back as he was awakened from his trance. When he looked at her again, an oval-shaped object stood at her side. The edges were a glimmering pearl, encasing a fluttering surface, appearing as silvery waves rippling upon the shore.
Allister labored to his knees, staring at the hypnotic waves, swaying, flowing, and beckoning him forward. When he reached out his hand, the ripples reversed their flow, converging in the center of the object. An eddying storm raged in its center, growing brighter as the turbulence swirled, and then propel toward him, causing him to fall back again. When he raised his arms in defense, a warmth trickled over his skin, and he gaze back at the surface, seeing an image of Nikolina writhing on her bed.
Allister’s mouth gaped, his lips moving, but no words would come. Tears rimmed his eyes, hearing Nikolina’s screams. Her sweat-soaked face was pallid, with red, snaking veins bulging from beneath it.
“No, Nikolina,” he said, crawling toward the image.
Lilinth cackled, waving a hand over the surface, and as quickly as the image had appeared, it was gone again.
“Why? Why must you torment her so? Please, I’ve done what you asked. Please, release my daughter. Release us both.”
She stroked his face, reverting to her beautiful smile. “Why would I do such a thing, my obedient lover? You hesitated, and needed a reminder as to why you’ve come to me.”
She gripped him by the throat, hoisting him to his feet. “Do I need to remind you again?”
Allister’s face darkened, gasping for air. When his eyes rolled back, she loosened her grasp, bringing him in for a kiss. Nothing he knew of the mage could stave off the desire burning inside of him. He returned her kiss, wanting to be a part of her in any way she demanded.
“Later, my lover,” she teased, her voice dripping with honey.
Lilinth released her hold, sending him collapsing to the floor. She glided toward the counter, pouring drinks. With a seductive smile, she beckoned him to her, taking a seat near the great hearth.
“Have you what I asked?” she said, handing him a drink.
Allister couldn’t respond, feeling the pleasured tingles left in the wake of her touch.
“Need I offer another reminder?” She motioned toward the mirror.
“No. No. Please. Yes. I have it. I found the map in my cloak and retrieved the—the shard, the key. I’ve brought it just as you commanded.”
“I knew you wouldn’t displease me: not in our lovemaking or with your duty,” she purred, emptying her glass. She rose up then, taking position over him. He moaned as her sharp claws grazed his neck, leaving thin trails of febrile blood behind. All images of her true wretched appearance faded away in the haze of pleasure. All that remained was desire and lust. Lilinth laughed, ripping the laces from his trousers, and forcefully joined with him. Allister cried out, basking in the pain-ridden intoxication of their merge.
After several turns of the glass, she left him in a heap on the floor. His breathing was shallow as he attempted to recover from their lovemaking. Wiping the blood from his face, he struggled to his knees, tying his shredded trousers.
“Mah’saahc’s essence is within your daughter, just as mine is within you,” she said, bringing him from his euphoria. “Neither of you shall be freed until you’ve completed the tasks assigned to you.”
His eyes widened as an excruciating pain radiated throughout his entire body. He grasped his chest and cradled his manhood, crumpling on the floor.
“Give me the key,” she commanded, sliding a glove over her clawed hand.
He couldn’t respond, still writhing on the floor, screaming.
“The key!”
“Gods,” he groaned, rising on shaky knees.
“Gods?” She grinned. “I am your god.”
Those words sent a prickling chill down his spine. Allister fought against her pull, but couldn’t stop his body from responding independent from his mind. He reached into his cloak, handing over the shard.
As he withdrew his hand, Lilinth’s eyes flashed, and her body taunted, returning to its cadaverous state. Her leathery, ashen wings spread out behind her, and then retracted again.
“What is this?” she demanded, the yellow center of her wan eyes blazing with mounting anger.
“It—it’s what you asked me to retrieve. It was in the pale stone beneath the seventh peak. I followed the map, and it was where you led. Please, this is all that I found beneath the stone.”
Lilinth roared, landing a backhand that sent him crashing into the far wall. “Fool! This is but half!”
“Half?” he coughed, the word releasing with sprays of blood.
“Can you not see?” She hurled the shard across the room, barely missing Allister’s head as it stuck in the wall.
“Pleas…I swear…this—this was all I found beneath the stone.” He strained, pulling the shard from the wall.
Lilinth beat her leathery wings, swooping toward him before he could register the movement. She wrenched him from the floor, turning him to the mirror.
“Then watch how failure is rewarded.”
“No!” he gasped, hearing his daughter’s screams as she thrashed in her bed. “I’ll do whatever you command! Please! Whatever you command.”
Lilinth leaned close, her face a hair’s breadth from his. Her hot, pungent breath stung his eyes as she hissed, squeezing his throat. “The key or the life of your fair Nikolina and the child she carries,” she rasped.
“But—”
She placed a crooked finger up to his lips. “You’ll return, my obedient lover. You’ll retrieve what is commanded, and Mah’saahc will lead Nikolina to obtain the blood of Oisin. You have but one chance. Don’t fail me ag
ain.”
“Lilinth, please. I’ve retrieved what you asked, and Nikolina is in no condition to aid you. I’ll serve you, me alone. Allow—”
She squeezed harder. “One chance,” she said again, licking up the side of his face with her prickly tongue. “Or I’ll give Nikolina to my children, and you’ll watch them receive their pleasures before they consume them both.”
He gagged, feeling the prickly tongue she forced down his throat. A searing heat flashed over him, being overcome by a gelid bite. Allister sucked in a painful breath, landing in the dirt of the clearing. When his vision cleared, he gazed around wearily, and noticed the item in his hand.
“The—the shard,” he breathed, fighting against the swirl of dizzying dots clouding his vision. He dropped the shard in his cloak pocket, attempting to rise on weakened knees. His legs wobbled as darkness crept in from the corners of his eyes.
“Gods help me,” he whimpered, collapsing to the ground.
Betrayal of the Guard
The smoke-filled air in the room was stifling, tinged with the aroma of blood and ash. Heat emanating from the extinguished hearth added to their discomfort, as they continuously fanned, attempting to gain some comfort in the stuffy, ventless room.
Five men sat around the wooden table, staring at one another. Neither wanted to believe the reports of the vicious attack, and more so, what Nakaris had relayed to them. Urdan wiped the dripping sweat from his face, pulling at the clinging, silken tunic wet with perspiration. Though the air outside would’ve certainly provided some comfort, Urdan daren’t open the shuttered windows.
“What did you say?” Aronin asked for what seemed the fourth time.
Nakaris shook his head. “A—a specter or wraith. I don’t know. When I went to the carriage, he was there with Lady and Lord Benoist. He—he shielded them.”
“Yet, no one from our patrol saw this ‘apparition’ ?” Aronin said with skepticism.
“Sir Middleton speaks true,” Wosen finally interjected, growing tired of the repeated question and the disrespectful way Aronin posed it. “I bore witness to the same. When I saw the burnt carriage, I thought the worse. Anyone who saw what was left of it would’ve thought the same. But he—it was there, draped over Lady and Lord Benoist as some type of shield, protecting them from the flames. You saw the charred remains of her personal guard that was inside. How could they have survived if Sir Middleton’s accounts are untrue?”
The Rise of Nazil- Complete Epic Fantasy Trilogy Page 114