“I’m Persephone,” Persephone answered. “I’m Daedre’s sister.”
“Oh. The illusive sister. It’s about time you left your father.”
“We left a while back,” Daedre said as she took a seat on a nearby pillow, motioning for Persephone to do the same. “We went to Nautil because it was the furthest from his reach, but whatever he did unleashed other things upon this world. Nautil is in ruins.”
“I heard,” Maize said, clicking her tongue. “So many beautiful boys killed, too. Tis all I hear, people lamenting their lost sons and daughters. For us that happened long ago.” She straightened. “What is it you need, Daedre? I still owe you for before.”
“Shelter to ride out the storm until we must all move.”
“Then you have it. Stay here with my thieves and I. You will be well protected and well taken care of.” A few the others nodded in agreement. “But tell me first, what of the two men you traveled with before? Do they live?”
“One does,” Daedre said, a sigh escaping her lips as she looked at the ground.
“The Ardour then,” Maize said, nodding with a smile. “You fancied him. Not a bad choice since he’s the best, but soon his father will be dead and he likely with him, I think. Better off that way for me.”
She looked away and sighed before responding.
“That is the way of things. Thank you for your help, Maize. We appreciate it.”
“Of course, of course,” the girl said, offering a grin. She clapped her hands. “Food and drink for my friends! For they are tired, hungry and thirsty, and that we shan’t abide.”
Chapter Fifteen
Curiosity had gotten the better of her.
Aiyana strayed as far from the valley as she possibly could yet again. Somewhere she knew Dearic was in trouble. The near future was too hard for her to see for some reason. It was like someone had taken a blindfold and put it across her eyes. All she knew was that he was in danger, and that if he didn’t survive everyone would die. She didn’t know where he was, but she’d thought to try where he’d been going.
Of course she couldn’t actually make it to Pabila. It was too far away from the valley for her to reach. She’d seen the smoke, though. That worried her as she made the trek back. A hand absentmindedly rubbed the somewhat noticeable bulge of her stomach. In what she’d seen of Dearic’s future, she knew that he was destined to save people. She believed that she was one of those people, but as she walked she felt uncertain as to whether she could even trust her own visions. The smoke at Pabila was not something she’d foreseen. Now she didn’t know where he was, or if he was even alive, and his child was growing within her. I’d been so sure about all of this before. Now I see nothing and can’t trust what I did see before.
She walked back into the valley where the others were engaged in various activities. Most were sitting in groups and talking. Some of them looked at her suspiciously because, although she’d mated with her destined, she’d failed to get him to stay. She was the first in the long time that had failed to do so. Truthfully she was glad for it. Dearic would have just ended up dying with all of them had he stayed. There was still a small hope that he was alive out there, and in that hope was the belief that he could find a way to save them.
While the others sat and talked among themselves, some of them about her and her pushing the reach of their bindings, she moved to sit against an old stone wall that used to surround the city of Xilu. Since her last run in with them, the Nalgvane had been scarce. None of them knew why, but the city felt largely deserted. She had expected the dwarves to finally return and begin rebuilding the city, as she knew they had planned to do, but they had not. A few goblins had found their way there, but they had disappeared within the buildings and hadn’t been seen since. Aside from herself and a few of her people bold enough to venture in, the city felt deserted. She knew it wasn’t, but it felt it.
She sighed and crossed her legs before her. Reaching down, fingers plucked a bit of grass from between her toes and twirled it about. The curse put upon them was really a shackle when all she wanted to do was run off and find him. She found herself wondering if he even thought about her. He’d said that their time together would be the only time they were together, and yet he’d seemed concerned for her soon after. What does that mean, though? Dearic is a caring soul. He has concern for everyone. She tossed the blade of grass away and leaned back, closing her eyes.
It was as she sat there that she felt someone drawing close to her. This was not expected, and she frowned, her eyes still closed, as she expected this was going to lead to some form of altercation between herself and whoever was closing in on her.
“Where did you go?” a voice asked.
Aiyana sighed in relief at hearing that voice, for she knew it as her sister. Trecia was one of the few she knew would always side with her.
“I had to go and see if I could reach him,” she responded, tossing the blades of grass away.
Trecia was beautiful by all standards of the mist, as was Aiyana. If they could mate with their own species, they would both be highly sought after. Trecia had mated with her destined and convinced him, a Laradain elf, to stay with her. That was many years prior, before the elves of the forest had been thrown into a brimming fire of hatred and desire by the human magus in the north. Ethrir was a gentle soul, and well received. Their child, Tethrian, was already in his one hundredth year, waiting for a destined that would never come.
“The further you stray, the greater the risk of your loss,” Trecia said as she sat down beside her. “What good would that do anyone, least of all your child?”
“I know, but what would you have me do? You know what I’ve seen, and you believe me, don’t you?”
“You won’t let me do anything but believe you.”
Aiyana sighed.
“I had to make you believe me,” she said, fidgeting with a new blade of grass. “I don’t want to lose you three. Not with all of the others.”
“There’s no guarantee he’ll be able to save even one of us if what you say is true. Even still, running to the reaches of the tether will do nothing but make it impossible to save you if you’re gone. You aren’t just yourself, now, Aiyana. Think less of his safety and more of the safety of your child.”
“You’re right, I know. If he’s dead it won’t matter. We will all perish.”
“Such optimism. No wonder people are keeping their distance from you.” Trecia shook her head and clucked her tongue. “Be more positive, sister. If he is who you say he is, then he will find a way to survive.”
This she knew to be true. She believed in him. What she had seen she knew would come to pass. This was not some notion that had just popped into her head of its own free will. They all saw who their destined was. It was in their being. The magic that created them, and tied them to that individual, allowed them to see the destinies of their destined. In some cases, other Mists had been assigned a destined that they would never meet, and they knew it from birth. She’d always felt sorry for those souls. Many of them went out too far, broke the tether, and disappeared into nothingness. She couldn’t blame them. It would be a horrible fate to never meet your destined.
This is all foolish of me. I just miss him. I know that’s what it is but I can’t stop myself from wanting to find him. I wish he would come back. She sighed and looked at her sister when she felt a hand touch her arm.
“I’ll be fine, Trecia,” she said.
“Are you sure? I worry about you. Those that go as you do tend to not come back.”
“I know, but I don’t want to die. I promise. I’ll stay closer to home from now on.”
“Good. Tethrian would be upset if he lost you.”
“I’m sure he would be.”
She smiled and gave her sister’s hand a light pat before gently pushing her fingers away. Trecia took the hint. She gave one last squeeze and then stood up, offering a small smile and a little wave before she moved off among the rest of their people. Though sh
e wished to be left alone, she still felt a pang of regret as her sister went away. It left her with no one to talk to but herself and the child growing within her stomach.
Even that seemed like a fruitless endeavor so she abandoned it for watching everyone else instead. It was as she did this that she realized that everyone was paying a lot of attention to the direction she had come from earlier. Well, not everyone, but some were curiously moving over to look off in the direction of the Dwarven city. She rose, her heart beating quickly within her chest as she expected to see Dearic coming into view leading a host of Dwarves with the intent of heading north to fight Gregor. But she saw nothing, just everyone watching curiously.
While she wondered what it was that they saw, she made no move to go and see for herself. Instead, expecting whatever it was to come into view sooner or later, she moved to stand on a fallen piece of the stone wall she’d been sitting beside, trying to get a better view from a different vantage point. Still, she could see nothing but the others milling about or heading over to look down the path between the mountains.
It wasn’t long before she saw the first flash of bright light. She frowned and glanced at the others nearby, but none of them were reacting to it. There was another flash, followed shortly by another. As her eyes adjusted to the distant light, she saw that those who’d gone to see were now running back towards them. Her eyes widened when she saw the first one missing a limb. She nearly fell when she saw one of her people missing nearly their entire left side, trying to escape from whatever horror was coming.
The screams came then, and panic erupted. Something out there could see them. Something could see all of them, and it, or they, had weapons the likes of which she had never before seen, and she’d seen magic do a lot of things.
Even though she knew she should try and run and hide, she stood atop the mound to see what she could. The first of the creatures came into view. Vaguely humanoid it held a strange weapon in its hands that fired bursts of light which lanced parts of her kin away from their bodies wherever it made contact. Her breath caught in her throat when a giant beast lumbered into view and fired bursts of light large enough to kill a handful of her brethren in a single shot.
She moved to run and fell, crashing to the ground in a heap of tangled limbs and hair, her arms having instinctively wrapped around her middle for protection. She grimaced and lay there for a moment, feeling a stinging pain in her right leg. Everyone was screaming, and a sound like ripping metal permeated the air around her, echoing off the walls of the city. The flashes of light were getting closer. She could see them through the bodies of her people. Briefly she caught a glimpse of her sister and her family running away, but then she was lost in the crowd.
Aiyana stood and hobbled into the fallen city. Teeth ground into her lip as she stifled a cry with each painful step. Others were running past her. None stopped to help her. She hobbled deeper into the city as the horrible ripping sound continued, punctuated by still further screams from behind her. Monsters! Whatever these things are they must be worse than anything else in this world. Not even the Nalgvane attacked us like this!
In the center of the city there were still a few buildings that were largely intact. Their spires rose upwards, climbing heights that, if they were not half broken, would probably have rivaled any city around. Dwarven ingenuity at its finest. Now they were just broken peaks, but they were still above the ground and away from the attacking beasts.
Limping down the old cobble road, she made it to the first of the larger buildings and entered through a broken door, barely still on its hinges. She wasn’t alone, but the few she saw were huddled behind broken bits of furniture and stone, peeking out towards the door every so often. She knew they would be seen, and she knew that she should tell them that, but she didn’t. Instead, she made her way across the room and down a hall, looking for the stairwell that would lead up into the spire.
She could have told them, but she hoped they would get spotted by these beasts, and that they would think that group was all that was in the building. It was unlikely, but any small chance was better than nothing. She would mourn their loss when the time came. Besides, she had her own to worry about. I can’t lose my baby. I can’t lose Dearic’s baby. I’m sorry, but I can’t help you. She wished those words would reach them, but they wouldn’t. They were locked within her mind, away from any wandering ears that might hear.
Near the end of the hall she found the stair. Each step was more painful than the last as she climbed up. Quickly she found herself out of breath. Even though she knew that they were coming, she had to stop. Sitting allowed her body to rest, her ankle to throb, and her breathing to slow. She needed it badly.
Dearic… Her mind drifted as she closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the wall. I wish you were here. I don’t know that we’re going to survive this.
It was short, the time she sat, and then she was on her feet and pressing higher despite the pain. She wanted to stop, and she knew that she likely needed to just sit and take weight off of her ankle, but she couldn’t. At least not until she reached a point where the stairs no longer climbed, and she exited into a small room with several tables in it and some broken bookcases scattered across the floor. The door opposite her was missing, and there were no further stairs for her to climb. She was at the end of the line.
She pushed tables to the top of the stairs. Being as they were made of wood, and heavily weathered due to exposure, it wasn’t hard for her to position them. Then she sat down near the missing door and looked out over the city. She could see her people running, scattering into the winds, hiding in whatever nook or cranny that they could find in the remains of a pub, a smithy, or whatever building they could find that was still mostly standing.
All she could do was hope that these things wouldn’t enter the city. Small hope. These things used weapons that she’d never seen before. Though, she supposed, they could be weapons of magic. If they were, then there was magic to counter it, but these things didn’t seem to care. It was almost like they had no soul.
The fact that they could even see her and her people was enough to cause concern. Only the Nalgvane had ever been able to see them all before, and the Nalgvane were afraid of them. That was why they’d left them alone so long as none of the Mist’s ventured into the city. There was also the fact that they knew the Nalgvane were not from their world. They had been brought to Amarand some ages ago, and were left behind. With their short life spans, the creatures had all but forgotten. Only the Mists remembered.
She winced as the sound of ripping metal reverberated through the empty canyons of the city. The creatures had made it into Xilu. Scooting away from the hole in the wall, she chose not to watch as her people were slaughtered. She didn’t want to be seen. If no one saw her, she might live, but most importantly, the baby would.
The screams that echoed over the sounds of the light weapons were what hurt her the most. Tears dripped from her eyes as she imagined her sister, her one, and their son out there somewhere, running from those things. They couldn’t go far. Trapped in Xilu, they had little place left they could run. The pull of the valley would become stronger the more of them that died. They would no longer be able to venture out as she had. The broken city was their only hope of survival.
She prayed that more of her people would find safety. That her loved ones would find somewhere to hide and not be destroyed. She prayed to a God she hadn’t ever believed in, because what God would create magic in order for it to be used as heinously as it had been? The God of the Brivanites. She wasn’t even sure He was real, but she prayed all the same and hoped that He would hear her if He was. She just wanted this all to end. Was that too much to ask? Couldn’t He make these creatures just disappear? Probably, but He wouldn’t. He hadn’t made Chaos disappear those years ago. Only the entirety of the Vale’s Mage’s had been able to accomplish that, and they were all gone. Dearic was the last.
Dearic was the last. All of their hopes in one m
an who could very well be dead. If he was, then all was for naught. Even if the creatures didn’t find her, she was certain Gregor would soon have what he sought, and then he would bring Chaos into their world for a second time. This time there would be no stopping him. Everything and everyone would be destroyed. All would be lost.
Pulling her knees up as far as she could, she wrapped her arms around her legs and let her cheek rest upon them. Tears dripped down onto the dusty stone floor, but she didn’t make a sound. Silently she wept as she heard more of her people dying below. Somewhere down there, she knew her family was dying. Everyone was dying. They would all be gone, and then she hoped these things would move on and leave her alone.
She hoped. She prayed. But she didn’t know if any of it even mattered.
Chapter Sixteen
Dearic felt his mouth open as if he were going to speak, but it just hung there as he stared at her.
“If you don’t close that, you’ll wind up getting sick,” the woman claiming to be his mother said. “This isn’t a place for bare skin, and it certainly isn’t a place for armor like what you’re wearing. We’ll have to get you out of that before you go on your way. Doesn’t appear to fit you, as it is.”
The fingers that held his blade clenched and unclenched as he fought to restrain himself from lashing out at her. If she was his mother, then she would at least know enough about him to be able to answer a few simple questions. Everyone claimed to know who he was, but none of them really knew. None of them knew who he’d become, just who he had been born to be. She turned to walk away.
“Why should I believe you?” he asked. “What proof do you have to make me believe you are who you say you are?”
He walked after her now. It was clear that she wasn’t going to stop and he wanted answers. Though the wind howled through the passage, she appeared to show no sign of being cold. He was freezing. Every part of his body felt the cold as if he were standing naked in it. She might have been right about the armor not being good in the snow, but it certainly did fit him. Dwarves were very good at making armor, and he’d had a lot of help in crafting the pieces that he was wearing. To think she would believe that it wasn’t well crafted, and didn’t fit him, was ludicrous.
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