Soldiers of Ruin

by Stephen L. Nowland

  “Is there a graveyard or mausoleum in the city?” Aiden asked of Maggie with a sense of urgency.

  “Yes, on the western side,” she replied, her eyes searching his for some idea of what he was thinking. “Why do you ask?”

  “This field was turned on by the arch mage just before he perished,” he explained to their sceptical looks. “He would have had the control device on his body at the time, so if we can find the coffin where he was interred—”

  “Are you suggesting we desecrate his resting place?” Sir William asked incredulously.

  “I have reason to believe his body won’t actually be in the grave,” Aiden suggested.

  “Where are you getting this information from?” Maggie asked suspiciously. “You’ve been acting strangely since you woke up.”

  “It would take some time to explain,” Aiden hedged, “but suffice it to say, I’m getting some help from an unusual source.”

  “Do you mean little voices in your head?” Ronan asked laconically. “You’d be better off ignoring them. They don’t have your best interests at heart.”

  “It’s not that at all,” Aiden snapped, beginning to feel the effects of the tincture of Kahve wearing off. “Please trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

  “Well you were right about the tower and the barrier,” Maggie mused. “I suppose we can give you the benefit of the doubt.”

  “If I’m wrong, then I’m probably just going crazy,” Aiden admitted, not pleased with his mind being used as a plaything for the ancient dragon.

  “Alright, it’s this way,” the raelani druid shrugged, leading them towards a narrow, broken passage strewn with rubble.

  “I don’t think Bastion will fit through there,” Sir William remarked. “I’d best leave him here for a time.”

  “We’ll be coming back here, regardless of whether or not we’re successful,” Aiden advised, giving the knight a moment to secure Bastion to a piece of rubble, before joining them at the entrance to the passage through the ruins.

  This entire section of the city was at a noticeable incline and for the most part, completely underground. Aiden’s magical light seemed small and insignificant compared to the scale of destruction around them, as they silently walked through the most devastated sections of the city. Not one building remained standing, and it was obvious the place had been picked clean years ago. Nothing but shattered stone and brick could be seen within the range of their meagre light.

  Sir William suddenly stumbled on the rough ground underfoot, but Aiden was quick to steady him with an extended arm.

  “Quick thinking, my boy,” the old knight breathed as he regained his footing. “I’m feeling rather overcome with a terrible headache and great fatigue.”

  “That’s the Kahve wearing off,” Maggie mumbled in explanation. “We’re all feeling it to some extent.”

  “Now do you understand what I was referring to earlier?” Aiden chided.

  “Quite plainly,” Sir William muttered. “I will think twice before having more of it in future.”

  “We’re nearly there anyway,” Maggie assured them. “The mausoleum should be just through that gap.”

  The gap she referred to was more of a gaping rent in the side of a wall, an ominous looking entrance to a dark place. Stepping through first, Aiden found himself in a place with an intact roof, and no other visible entrances. Like most of the surrounding city, this room was cluttered with scattered debris, and the walls were lined with large, slab-like objects.

  “It’s definitely a mausoleum,” Aiden remarked. He carefully stepped over some rubble and onto the solid flagstones of what appeared to be an immense chamber. The ceiling was invisible beyond the limits of his light and columns arrayed along the length of the hall disappeared up into the darkness.

  “There must be dozens of people interred here,” he breathed, gazing at the coffins along the wall. Many of them had been damaged or destroyed over the years, their grisly contents cast out onto the stone floor.

  “Hundreds, if you count the walls,” Maggie said, her tiny voice echoing in the freezing chamber. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?”

  Ronan reached into his pack and produced a small lantern, which he lit with flint and steel. Maggie followed Aiden along the left side, while Ronan and Sir William searched the right.

  Aiden was reminded of their time in the catacombs beneath the cathedral in Fairloch, battling the risen dead among very similar surroundings. Fortunately, these cadavers seemed content to remain inert as the four companions searched amongst their final resting place. So far, the only empty coffins they found were those that had been tipped over, destroyed or looted.

  “Anything yet?” Ronan called from across the hall.

  “No, what about you?” Aiden replied.

  “Would I have asked if we’d found something of — oh wait, I think this is the one,” Ronan said, his attention upon a coffin that seemed to have avoided damage from the long years. The image of the coffin flashed through Aiden’s mind again, identical to what they had discovered.

  He quickly walked over to it and looked into its empty interior, daring to hope they might find some clue within. There was an inscription on the base of the stone bier upon which the coffin rested — “In loving memory of Adulmund Cuthbeort — husband, father and protector, in this world and the next.”

  “Touching,” Sir William remarked. “Are you sure this is what you were looking for?”

  “Cuthbeort was the arch mage of Feybourne,” Aiden mumbled, his sluggish thoughts trying to fathom the meaning of the image. He had seen a wizard tumbling from the tower in his dream, and then this empty coffin. “He never actually perished when the city was destroyed. He just, sort of vanished. ‘Protector in this world and the next’ it says. I wonder…”

  “When this is over, you’re going to have to explain how you know about all of this,” Maggie stated with her arms crossed.

  “When we’re sitting in a nice warm inn, I’ll be happy to,” Aiden replied absently and started searching around inside the coffin. The wood seemed completely intact, but there was no sign of anything important. Ronan followed his example, thoroughly examining the outside of the coffin, as well as the stone it sat upon.

  “While I’m impressed that you knew there would be a strange, empty coffin here, I’m failing to see the relevance,” he remarked laconically. Aiden didn’t offer any sign he’d heard the sailor, instead focusing on what he could remember of his dream. Ultimately, it was the inscription that jogged his memory.

  “In this world and the next,” he repeated. The arch mage had vanished during his fall, but where to? “Another world” was the answer, and there was only one other world Aiden knew of — the Aether.

  “You know, if this bloke had a key that opened that barrier, he might have had a spare, because who doesn’t lose their keys from time to time?” Ronan suggested.

  “Wouldn’t it be inside his house?” Maggie pointed out.

  “Not if his family took the time to come back here and make an empty coffin,” he answered with a shrug. Aiden’s eyes lit up at this revelation, and he smacked himself in the face for missing the obvious.

  “That’s why the coffin isn’t damaged,” he blurted. “It’s a memorial that was placed here after the earthquake.”

  “Did you only just figure that out?” Ronan chided. Focusing on the coffin, Aiden decided to look at it in a different light. If Cuthbeort’s family and friends had taken the time to place the coffin here, there may well be something hidden within.

  He concentrated on his vision, using the tricks he had learned from Sayana and Criosa to shift his sight into another spectrum. The colours around him changed, strobing from dim grey to far more garish colours as he attempted to see beyond that which was visible. Nestled on top of the coffin was a small object, invisible to the naked eye, but glowing orange in Aiden’s enhanced sight. Reaching over, Aiden plucked it from its hiding spot and held it before him.

  It was
a small box, something one might use to store jewellery within. He allowed his vision to return to normal and carefully opened it. Within was a small stone with an orange gem embedded inside.

  “How the hell did you manage that?” Ronan breathed, watching all of this unfold.

  “It’s a little trick I learned recently,” Aiden replied, examining the stone. When he pulled it out of the box, it became fully visible again as the ancient incantation was disrupted. By normal light, he could see there was a hole on the other side of the stone, roughly the same size and shape as the gem.

  “Is that the key you spoke of?” Maggie asked curiously.

  “It’s not like any key I’ve ever seen, magical or otherwise,” Aiden surmised after a cursory examination. “It seems to be missing a gem, so I’m not sure if I can get it working.” Even as the words were coming out of his mouth, he knew the answer — the gem he had recovered from the broken remains of the sceptre a few hours earlier.

  His heart racing in anticipation, Aiden quickly reached into his belt pouch and produced the small amethyst and held it next to the stone. The gem appeared as though it would fit. He pushed it into place, unsure of what to expect.

  “Well, it’s worth a try,” he muttered with little enthusiasm. When nobody responded to his remark, Aiden looked around and gasped at what he saw. His companions were reduced to blurry, dark silhouettes, mere shadows of their former selves. His surroundings were blanketed in a strange violet mist.

  Aiden had seen this before, when he had travelled to the Aether, a realm adjacent to the real world. Looking down at his body, he was somewhat disturbed to be able to see through it, as if he were a ghost. A sensation of distant wind could be felt more than heard, lending an eerie quality to the alien surroundings. The stone had transported him at least part-way to the Aether.

  He took a step forward, noticing that the ground underneath had a spongy quality. Curious, he reached out an arm to the nearby wall and found that, with a little effort, he could push his hand through. He continued to push until he managed to step right through it, emerging on what would have been the outside of the building.

  With a surge of excitement, Aiden knew the perfect use for this strange device and went back through the wall, before prying the amethyst out of the arcane stone and reappearing in the midst of his startled companions.

  “What in blazes is going on here?” Sir William barked.

  “This relic will allow us to walk through the barrier as if it wasn’t there,” Aiden explained excitedly. “Come on, everyone join hands. This may feel a little strange.” With some difficulty, he slipped the gem back into place and once more found himself standing amongst the shadowy echo of Feybourne, but this time with his companions by his side.

  They stared in wonder at the strange new environment, and Aiden gave them a moment to look around before he led them back towards the barrier. It was a strange experience to see the shattered city of Feybourne distorted by the shift in reality. The looming shadows and cracked pavement were reduced to a subtle, dark blur, as if the city itself had become a ghost.

  Aiden’s companions were silent, awestruck by the strange experience as they drifted through the Aether. It was neither warm nor cold in this place, as such things had no meaning here, yet it was comfortable in a detached kind of way.

  It wasn’t long before they came to a familiar shape in the distorted stonework — the two large buildings that signified the edge of the arcane barrier. There was no sign of the flickering electrical field as they walked along, passing right by the spot where it would have been without ever coming into contact with it.

  When they were a safe distance past the entrance, Aiden popped out the amethyst and returned them to their own world. As the purple haze melted away, he caught a glimpse of a robed figure watching them before it faded into the morning light.

  “That was a singular experience,” Sir William breathed. “It is a strange thing to wait this long in life, before truly experiencing all it has to offer.”

  “Remarkable,” Maggie said with a faint smile. “The arch mage didn’t make a key to turn off the barrier, but a device that would take him past it.”

  “Was that him?” Ronan asked.

  “You saw that too?” Aiden responded. “I thought I might have been imagining things. It did seem to be the arch mage, still watching over his tower.” The very idea that the man had somehow survived in the Aether for all these years was haunting, and Aiden made a mental note to investigate further after they were done here.

  “Well, this has all been very remarkable, but would you mind very much if we finished what we came here for?” Sir William grumbled. “Some of us older gentlemen would very much like to lie down for a while.”

  “The tower lies just beyond,” Maggie replied, rubbing Sir William’s arm fondly. “A little further, Sir Knight, and we can all have a well-deserved rest.”

  “I think your new arch druid might have run away,” Aiden pointed out as they began to ascend the sloping pathway. “Perhaps he’s powerless with the rest of your order gone. There’s certainly no way he could have passed that barrier. Look at this place — nothing has been here since the fall of the city.”

  “For his sake, I hope so,” the raelani druid replied coldly, leaving little doubt as to her intentions should they stumble across their opponent.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Pacian wended his way through the tunnels beneath Stonegaard, following the sounds of battle in the distance. Sayana had clearly run into a large group of the insane MacAliese clan, and he wasn’t going to let her face them alone while he still drew breath. The amount of time he’d be able to keep breathing, however, was a source of some concern. He was matted with blood after his duel with Sloane and unfortunately, most of it was his.

  The tunnel suddenly began to shake, as if from a mild earthquake and Pacian braced himself against the wall until it subsided. Unsure what it was all about, he hobbled along the passageway towards the fighting.

  The smell of sulphur was far stronger than on his last visit, and a wave of heat washed over him that was both welcome and disturbing. The place was lit by Sayana’s fiery magic, and a lake of lava that hadn’t been here last time. It was probably just his imagination, but Pacian thought he could see the levels of the lava slowly rising, engulfing more of the cavern with each passing moment.

  Far on the other side of the chamber Sayana, practically glowing with power, summoned energies as she battled two dozen armed and armoured dwarves. Most of them used crossbows from behind the cover of rock, taking their shots and ducking to safety afterward.

  Several charred and burned corpses dotted the landscape, and those few warriors that held axes and shields were keeping their distance from her, trying to box her in so their archers could finish her off.

  Sayana brought her hands together and sent out a shockwave of deafening noise, stunning them momentarily. Pacian was far enough away to avoid the worst of the effects, but the properties of the cavern seemed to magnify the noise and he grated his teeth at the loud report. He stealthily moved in closer and crouched down behind a particularly large stalagmite, looking for an opportunity to assist.

  The dwarves seemed to be as yet unaware of his presence, but with his diminished reflexes, Pacian was loathe to close in and use his dagger. Instead, he pulled out the repeating crossbow and perched it on a nearby rock, crouching low and aiming along its length.

  Sayana sent a jet of flame across the cavern, sweeping it across the positions of the enemy archers who attempted to avoid the worst of it by hiding behind their rocks. When the arc of fire dissipated, three armoured dwarves charged from behind cover, hoping to take her by surprise. Pacian steadied the crossbow and breathed out slowly to steady himself, and then pulled the trigger.

  The distance was probably only fifteen yards, but the effect was devastating. The armoured dwarf fell to the ground after the bolt found the back of his head, and the two remaining dwarves didn’t even notice, intent
as they were upon their enemy. They chopped at her body with their axes, sending sparks flying from her spectral armour as it absorbed the bulk of their attacks.

  Pacian used what strength he had in his wounded arm to hold the crossbow steady, while he reached up and dropped the next bolt into place. In this time, Sayana had been pressed backward against the cavern wall by two warriors. In a display of co-ordination, they both pulled back a couple of yards and allowed a dozen crossbow bolts through the air. Sayana was pummelled with the volley, causing a series of bright flashes from her armour as it finally succumbed and vanished.

  With his next bolt in place, Pacian quickly aimed and pulled the trigger, successfully hitting one warrior square in the back. He dropped to the ground, bloodied and roaring in pain. Sayana bathed them in fire and staggered to one side, wilting from exhaustion.

  Her fatigue only lasted a moment. She fanned her fingers and spread her arms wide. Through the tears in her ragged shirt, Pacian could see her tattoos glowing as the light around her dimmed noticeably. Even the nearby lave itself seemed to dim as she drew in more power.

  Pacian hesitated, enraptured by the scene. More crossbow bolts flew unnoticed around her as she focused her power. Sayana then opened her eyes and brought her hands together, pointing them at the rock formation they were using for cover. With a flash of energy along her tattoos, a bolt of crackling green energy shot towards them.

  The formation of rock was instantly shattered, creating a cloud of impenetrable dust. The dull boom of the explosion echoed around the cavern, with Pacian swearing under his breath in astonishment. As the dust cleared, the few dwarves who hadn’t been blasted to pieces were bathed in a torrent of fire from Sayana’s extended fingers.

  Pacian spotted a robed dwarven woman arguing with Hamish some distance from the fight. Pacian couldn’t hear their voices from his position, and wouldn’t have understood them anyway, but their body language was plain enough — there was a power struggle going on, and poor old Hamish was finding out the true nature of his long-lost kin.