by Rae Brooks
The further he went, the stronger his desire to run became. The obelisk howled closely, and the creatures became fiercer, determined to keep him at bay. But he fought, despite the blood that leaked from old and new wounds, and despite the way his still-recovering fingers ached to stop. He beheaded another of the creatures and took another step forward. One of them lunged towards him, knocking him to the ground and sinking its teeth into his collarbone. He growled, kicking upwards and knocking the thing back. Swinging his sword outward, he caught another creature that attempted to land him in the same position.
A few more swings, and he stepped across an apparent threshold. The moment he reached the other side of it, the creatures seemed to back away. He glanced back, and his body staggered at the lack of adrenaline. Blood spilled down his arms and legs, and smeared liquid from the creatures splashed along his face. Only when he took a breath and glanced towards the obelisk did he see her. The same woman from his dream, standing only a few paces from him. Aleia the Magister of Direction and Manipulation.
Red lips that seemed to drip with lust smiled at him, and her hair wound backwards, stopping just short of the obelisk. Her body was like a smaller version of the obelisk, though the vines twisted about one another to form an almost human body. She stepped towards him, and in spite of himself, he stepped backwards. “Aleia,” he said as rain, blood, and sweat poured down his face. “Stop this. There is no war. I have upheld the pledge my ancestor made to you.” His eyelids fluttered in pain, and his body twitched in fear. “Stop this. Remove these creatures from Telandus. You cannot hurt the residents there without going back on your word, which is a debasement of who you are, who the Magisters are. N-not just Telandus—remove them from Elyst!” His words were spoken in a serious growl.
The moment he spoke the word ‘Magisters,’ one of the vines from her body shot forward to wrap around his waist. Reacting at once, he swung one of his swords and broke the vine. She let out a howl, and then with a grimace, she nodded. “You ask that I remove my creatures, then? From Elyst?” she asked. The voice was like a thousand monsters speaking to him at once, and he flinched way from it.
“Yes, you must,” Taeru said earnestly. “There is no war. You must see that, my Lady.” She was a Magister, and he ought to regard her as one. Perhaps if he did, then she would realize that she was breaking an oath that all Magisters ought to have.
“Must I?” she asked, or rather, the thousand voices that spoke from her vile mouth asked. Taeru let out an unsteady breath, but he nodded his head without wavering. He could see the vines of her body moving, slowly, and he knew they were not done with him yet.
His jaw clenched, and he squeezed his swords a little tighter. “Magister Aleia, I implore you. Keep your word. The citizens of Telandus are not bad people, nor are the ones of Cathalar. You manipulated Lavus, and you know that. They are not without love, or faith, and they do not deserve your wrath.” The more he spoke, the weaker his words sounded. He believed what he said, but he feared this creature before him, and he feared her deeply.
“You speak the truth, false prince,” she whispered. Taeru’s body quivered at her words. False prince. Though, he supposed that was accurate, if he was indeed an illegitimate child of his mother. Fair enough—she could insult him, but she had to go through with what she had promised all that time ago. “Very well. I will withdraw my creatures, and they will not harm another member of Elyst.”
Her strange hand lifted, and with a strange spark, he could feel the lift in the air. As he looked around, the strange plants that had represented the creatures slowly began to disappear in whirls of black energy. Taeru breathed warily, and he looked at her. “Th-thank you,” he murmured. He had not expected it to go so smoothly. Inevitably, though, the storm began to slow, and the moon in the distance eased back to white.
Still, she remained where she was, staring at him with yellow eyes. They were invariable, and he took a step backwards. He drew another quick breath, and he stared at the ground. Things were returning to normal, but something felt wrong as he stood there. The obelisk wasn’t disappearing. “Are you finished, child?” the voice asked.
He shook, but very warily, he responded. “And you swear that none of them will be harmed? That the citizens of Cathalar nor Telandus will be harmed by you or those things anymore?” His voice was steadied as he finished.
“I swear,” the voice said.
“Then, yes, I am finished.”
All at once, she laughed, even as the sky continued to clear. The vines along her body were twisting maliciously, and Taeru felt his skin beginning to prickle with concern. “There is one thing you forgot, little boy,” she whispered.
His eyes widened, and he staggered backwards, bringing up his sword. “What?” he hissed. The woman, or thing, was still staring at him with those yellow eyes.
“You… child, are not a real citizen of Telandus or Cathalar… you are the closest thing to the man who made a fool of me all those years ago. The one who made a fool of me again, with your nonsense prancing around Telandus. And it is you, little prince, that I want more than anything… and it is you… that I will have.”
The vines began to move again, even as Taeru’s eyes widened in disbelief. He supposed he had forgotten that aspect, though he still more or less considered himself a citizen of Cathalar. He had publicly renounced that title. Perhaps the Magisters also listened to that sort of thing. He held his swords outwards, even as the white-haired woman began to transform before him.
Slowly, slowly, she formed into something else entirely. Like one of the creatures that she had vanquished, but larger, and rather than legs, she had a tail. She was a snake, with strange arms that reminded him of the tendrils from his dreams. The ones around the obelisk.
Snarling, he turned. There was no way he could defeat her, after all, she was a Magister, and he had managed to save Elyst—now he just needed to save himself. He moved as quickly as he could, sprinting back out into the grove with desperation. As he ran though, the ground shook, and within moments the lady turned monster exploded from the ground before him. He staggered backwards, and with a solid thrust, he slashed through the top of her body.
The sword cut, and he felt the flesh beneath his blade, but as soon as he finished—it seemed to return to its ordinary state. The tail of the creature snaked outwards so that Taeru had to leap back towards the obelisk. One of his swords cut across the tail, and he pushed himself towards her again. Trying another cut to the side, he caught closer to the top of the monster, and this time she released a shocked howl. So, she could be hurt. “You are injured,” she informed him. “You cannot fight forever.” From the ground, perhaps an extension of her strange body, one of the white vines shot upwards and caught him by the ankle. He brought one of his swords into the air and then cut down with a hard slam. The vine shriveled at once, and he was free for only a moment before one of the vines from the snake’s body shot outwards and wrapped around his wrist. The amount of pain that accompanied the strike was mind-numbing, and his hand reflexively dropped its weapon.
Another of the vines grabbed it and flung it far across the grove. He stared at it, drawing back with shock. He still had his other sword, though, and he cut the new binding and sliced across the snake’s body again. Again, she shrieked, but withstood no irreparable damage, it seemed. Another of the tendrils shot out, grabbing his sword, wrenching it from his grip, and tossing it with the other. He was weaponless. Like his dream. His eyes widened, and kicking outwards, he knocked the snake away from him.
Then, with the momentary freedom, he moved towards the swords. Though when another of the vines tangled around his waist, he kicked it off, somehow, and questioned whether he ought to want the sword or the exit. As he moved towards the back of the grove, however, the tail of the snake caught around his waist. It dragged him backwards, and he used his fingers to dig desperately into the snake’s flesh.
It squeezed him tighter in response and slammed him into the ground. “Foolis
h little boy.” His hand shot outwards, clawing into the dirt. This was like his dream, only this time, he knew he wasn’t dreaming. He cried out, well aware that there was no one here to hear him. “And once I harvest you, child, I will find a way to destroy Elyst. It will only be a matter of time.” Taeru shook his head, thrusting out another hand, which created crevices in the dirt when he was dragged backwards again.
When he stood, fighting against the pull at his waist, the vines tightened, and a horrifying pulse of agony shot through his body. Just like in the dreams. He took a step forward though, fighting with every piece of him. His injuries ached, his body begged for relief, but he took another step. A whooshing sound was his warning before a black tendril wrapped around his arm and drew it back with agonizing force. He snarled, trying desperately to keep moving in a direction that he couldn’t go.
Another tendril wrapped around his shoulder, pulling him harder than his efforts forward, and his feet slid in the muddy grass. Another caught about his thigh, and he let out a shocked cry. The pain was unending, and blood bubbled into his throat with response to the pain that every one of the new extensions of his body were creating. He kept reaching forward, trying to move his legs, even as his knees attempted to buckle.
He couldn’t keep fighting. Why hadn’t he thought more clearly about the request he’d made? She’d obviously had to obey it, and yet, he had completely neglected himself. The explosive, unrelenting pain was quickly sucking at his consciousness. “Give up, Taeru… nothing can save you now.”
He sunk to one knee, grinding his teeth as he kept trying to move forward, failing. Staring towards the edge of the grove, though, a rather unexpected form entered his vision. A white horse, and someone on the white horse—with blond hair. Calis. Taeru’s eyes widened, and his mouth opened in shock. His hand instinctively outstretched towards the figure that was nowhere within his grasp. Their eyes met a beat later, and shock riddled across Calis’s features.
The Telandan prince kept moving on his horse for a few more paces, and inevitably, he drew his sword, never stopping. A few more pulls, though, and Taeru could feel his body slipping, slowly—and then more quickly. He reached frantically still, needing Calis with more desperation than ever before. “Calis!” the word slipped through his lips before he could stop it.
Calis was clutching his sword, and he looked sick, sick and very angry. “Taeru!” A final tendril wrapped around the wrist of Taeru’s outstretched hand though, and that single hold was enough to yank him with full force backwards until his body slammed with a jolt of pain so strong that his body convulsed as it hit the crucifix. He let out another cry of torment as the branches snaked around his arms, both against the edges of the black crucifix, and his legs were bound as well, together and against the black hum of agony behind him.
He jerked his head, eyes wide as he glanced to one of his arms, pulling against the restraints to no avail. Terrible synapses of agony wracked his body, and he could feel them twisting around his mind like the tendrils did around his body. His waist, his arms, his legs. Strangely, there was a squeezing sensation, or perhaps it only felt that way because the torture converged into a single, torrential pulse so that his mind was left with an aftershock of disbelief. Finally, he glanced towards Calis, who was still there, still trying to get to him, but far too far away to reach the obelisk before Taeru was going to faint. “C-Calis…” he choked, certainly too low.
Calis’s face was so desperately twisted with anguish that Taeru choked, remembering Calis’s words in the cabin. He had ignored the one person for whom he cared the most deeply. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. Then, the Cathalari’s eyelids lowered as the pain became too heavy to bear, and his head dropped while darkness swarmed his mind.
“He could not account for that which he could not see.”
-A Hero’s Peace v.ii
Chapter lxiv
Calis Tsrali
Calis’s horse would not carry him fast enough, nothing could have carried him fast enough. His heart felt as though a sword had been driven through it as he watched Taeru’s body slammed back into that horrible thing. “Taeru!” He screamed, even as he watched Taeru fighting to get free, fighting but weakening. The lightning that had been swarming the obelisk, that had vanished moments before Calis had reached the grove, reappeared to wrack across Taeru’s body as the bindings held him against the black horror. No, no, no…
The blue eyes found Calis another time, and he could see the shock and pain slowly giving way to exhaustion. Taeru stared at Calis, pleading with his eyes, and inevitably, Calis’s name was on his lips—begging. Calis couldn’t force Talon to move with enough speed to reach him. Then, as Taeru’s head dropped, a pain so overwhelming shot through Calis that had the situation been any less desperate, he would have collapsed under the weight of it. As it was, however, he kept moving.
Even as Taeru was bound against the crucifix, body limp under all the stress, Calis screamed for him. “Taeru!” Calis cried again, digging his heels harder into Talon. He was nearly there, but his body and his mind both knew that he would not be in time. The moment he leapt off his horse, stumbling only once but never stopping, as he tore in the direction of Taeru’s motionless body, a movement shook the wood.
Then, just before Calis could reach out and touch Taeru, the purple crystal—the one that had been opened like a trap—slammed inwards, crushing against Taeru’s body. Just as it did, Calis’s sword clanged against the rocky substance. “No!” But the crystal didn’t crush Taeru, despite the fact that he was entirely enveloped by the violet mass. Rather, it contained him, separating him from Calis by a disturbing mass of purple and black as energies rolled through the obstruction, around Taeru’s imprisoned form. “TAERU!” Calis’s body shook with such torment that he screamed, a raw, unexpected scream, and his sword slammed against the crystal—over and over.
Nothing happened, though, and he remained just an arm’s length from the only person he’d ever loved. His sword kept moving though, slamming again and again against the unmoving crystal. At last, the rock responded, and a streak of lightning slammed up his sword and into him, knocking him backwards. Without thinking about the pain, though, he surged forward and brought his sword against the crystal again. This time, he held it there, pushing against the rock formation with unprecedented strength and fury. “Give him back!” he cried, and his voice snagged with anguish. “No—you can’t… you can’t have him! Give him back, now!” He cried again, and his voice only sounded more hollow, more desperate.
Tears were streaming down his face, and he took no notice of them, even as he pushed his sword hard against the rock. Electricity wracked through him, but he didn’t care, he hit the rock—again and again, as there was a pain far greater engulfing him, and it would only stop if Taeru could be taken out of this monstrosity.
Taeru looked weaker than he ever had, crucified against the corrupted obelisk. His head was bowed, and his body was entirely without movement. “Taeru, please, no…” Calis slammed his fist against the crystal, then. His forehead touched it, and he stared blankly at the vulnerable form of the love of his life. “Don’t do this,” he whispered to anything that would listen. “Not him.” The vines were still entrapping Taeru’s arms, still seeming as though they were squeezing too tightly. “I love him too bloody much…” His fist slammed into the crystal again.
Despite the stillness of his body, Calis could see the pain etched into his lover’s face. Pain that was frozen there. Calis knew Taeru was still in pain—still. “No, don’t do this… take me, take me if you need someone—just not him. I beg you… please…” Calis’s tears continued, worsened, and his body trembled. The energy continued to flow around Taeru, building, and orbs of white intermingled with the black.
It wasn’t just torturing Taeru with its energy—it was sapping the life from him. It was torturing him with his own energy. Calis’s fist pounded once more against the crystal. “STOP IT!”
“How sweet,” a voice from b
ehind him said, or rather, several voices said. Calis whirled to face them, eyes narrowed as pain haunted him with every gesture, every thought, and every breath. Taeru… He had to protect him.
The woman behind him was barely a woman at all. Her hair was white, and her body was made of vines. Her yellow eyes regarded Calis with disdain. “Let him go,” Calis spoke through gritted teeth. “You witch.”
“You ought to have a little more respect, Calis Tsrali, when regarding a Magister—a creator of your people.”
“Let him go,” Calis repeated, and every syllable was a threat on its own. She may have been a Magister. But he would have faced every Magister infinite times over if it meant saving the boy entrapped in the death crystal behind him.
She laughed. “No, Calis—I don’t think I will. Though, I will admit… your passion for one so… easy to manipulate is surprising.”
He screamed at the insult, springing forward and drawing his sword across her deformed body. She moved backwards, just out of the way of his strike, and he stepped forward again with another swing. As she moved away again, she laughed, and the laughter hurt Calis’s head. “Now, now, Calis… calm down.” With a twisted hand, she gestured behind him, and Calis turned.
Taeru’s body hadn’t changed position, but the black surges of power that had been previously contained shot across his body unrelentingly. More tendrils twisted up his body, around his waist, despite the apparent stillness of the crystal. The vines could move freely, and they did, twisting about Taeru’s legs, his arms, and his neck. They stopped a few moments after Calis turned, and he turned again to stare at the Magister, eyes widened. “Leave him alone, please. Please. If you need revenge on someone, take me, or anyone… anyone but him. Please. Don’t hurt him.”