by Rhys Thomas
“Oh, and this is Marisa. She kind of like my...”
*Pet?* I thought questioningly.
*Don’t even consider it.*
*Wife? Hm, bonded? No.*
*Oh, wife is definitely more fitting,*
*Bird? Chicken?*
*You know when you go to sleep at night, my claws are quite dexterous and that squishy part of you between your legs, could always be bitten or snapped off,* she sent so menacingly that I just simply blurted, “Wife,” to appease her.
Aria quirked a finely arched eyebrow at me, “wife?”
“Ye-ah? We’re bound… She and I, in such a way that we’re pretty much married… Through the soul?” I finished lamely, not exactly sure if it was true or I was simply speaking out of my ass. Most likely my ass. I hoped. Ariana gave me a slow nod, like whatever bestial shit float’s your boat dude.
“Do you want help me in striping this bodies for loot. It’ll be faster with your help,” I suggested, and she immediately got to work by snapping the arrow shaft in digger fork’s neck.
Unclasping my cloak, I let it pool to the ground and started for the leather gambeson. Marisa hoped down and sat on my cloak watching me.
I gave her a side eyed glance. *What?* She asked, after I looked her way a third time.
*You going to tell me what’s on your mind?* I suggested. She sighed in my head and I sensed relief and trepidation across the bond, but the latter of which was aimed at something else.
*It’s her surname, Jessem,* Marisa said finally.
*what about it?* I asked, shrugging into the leather padding.
*Alaric, Ananta’s arbiter was called Tian Jessem.*
“So, could just be a coincidence,” I said aloud to Marisa’s death glare.
Ariana glanced over, saw I was talking to the dragonling and went back to removing fork’s boots. *Tian had a wife who was Faen, a Twilight Fae in-fact. One of the few that escaped Za’el. The moon where the Fae lived, way before Tian banished the Shi’en there,* She explained to my blank look.
*Oh, why didn’t you say that then?*
*I just did...* She answered bitingly. *The Fae moved to the moon Ari to escape Za’el. Selene, Tian’s wife fled Ari to be with her husband. She was apparently pregnant and lost her child.*
I looked at Marisa for a minute as I stopped trying to tie the laces of the gambeson. *You do realised this is all baseless conjecture*
*Did Ra’al set this up?* she asked me, and I scoffed, thinking if anyone should be asking that question it should be me.
*Of course, he bloody did. He sent a bloody sign or something to Aria’s father to look for us, remember?.* I shook my head.
*It’s most likely that he is not her real father.*
“Marisa?” I said aloud. “Shut up.” *whatever It is. Its none of our business,* I sent mentally to the dragonling, who growled at me, but then she ducked her head and curled up on my cloak.
Grumbling about her frustrating bonded.
Tugging the last strap on the right of my chest, I tested each knot to make sure they wouldn’t loosen without the knot itself being twisted. The leather padding was a snug fit and didn’t impeded my movement what so ever. Next, I swung Scar’s shoulder scabbard over my own right side and buckled the sheath across my chest, I took that opportunity to retrieve my falchion. Finding it next to a pile of loose and worn clothing Ariana had collected from the bodies.
I adjusted the shorter scabbard though moving it to my right hip, so that in combat both hands could be filled instantly.
I watched in amazement as the Valakharian scout picked up the war-hammer and with one hand effortlessly swing it about, dancing in a formation of strikes, blows and parry’s that always propelled the hammer forward like a spear point, then she shattered it against a tree and walked sheepishly away.
Leaning down over the pile of clothing, I skimmed through and warped whatever looked reasonable to my inventory. I heard a gasp come from Ariana as she watched me warp the digging fork, but I ignored her for now, wanting to be gone from the pungent metallic scent of this place.
The broken and now burnt house groaned as a wall on the ground floor collapsed inwards bringing down the room above as well.
The most frightening thing though, was that even as the house burned down around it. That same room on the second floor stood and so did the structure beneath. The foundation of the house being stone meant that not all of the house collapsed completely. But other than that, I couldn’t sum up an explanation; nor understand why that ghost room was unscathed by the fire.
Through it all, the door of that room cracked open. Inviting the curious to peak within. Then the scent hit me next, the strangeness of the its attraction overpowering all others. My skin crawled from the soles of my feet to prickle my scalp.
“What the?” Aria’s voice soft and curious distracted me and I looked to her.
“You see it?” I didn’t have to clarify because she nodded emphatically; still staring.
“See it. I hear it,” her sultry accent took on a dream-like quality. “The sweetest music, the taste. Like the breathy touch of a lovers lips brushing against my neck.”
She slid her fingers along and down her ivory throat and then stepped towards the burning remains and ever-inviting room swaying in her movements.
What was a gentle caress to Ariana, felt like flea’s on a dog to me. I halted her by grabbing her arm, I could feel the muscles in her tense at the unexpected contact. She spun but I quickly stepped away raising my hands.
“We need to leave this place and head north,” I warded off the dangerous woman. She blinked at me and was about to turn back to the house when I stepped to side keeping her attention on me.
“Don’t look at the house—or what left’s of it. And yes, I know when people are told not to, they’ll do it anyway. But please don’t,” I said trying to project enough firmness into my voice. She squinted in clear confusion at my request, so I just carried on. “Marisa and I are heading north. They’re people we need to meet—somewhere that way…” I racked my brain, trying to remember Ra’al suggestion’s when something clicked. “Your home… It’s Pharon correct?”
“That’s what the Kasha called Pyhronia. They called us Pharonier’s except it always sounded like foreigner,” her tone scornful as she focused fully on me now. “How can we be foreign to our own lands.”
“Once our business is concluded in the north, we’ll head to your homeland,” I informed her.
“How do I know you’ll keep your word? Or if you’re even truthful about who you are,” she challenged. I was glad to see that her attention was completely on our conversation; yet my mouth thinned.
In a way she was correct about the latter. After-all, Alaric Rosen wasn’t even my real name. It was an alias invented by Ra’al and Marisa, but so was Jonathan Marcs my Earth name, though that one hadn’t been invented, it had been gifted to me by two loving parents.
“Okay that’s fair, let’s talk and move, yea?” I suggested, and all but jogged over to Marisa lying curled like a puddle in my cloak.
*Hey Marisa? Chick. We’re moving, you said you were going to have to hunt soon remember?” I sent jostling her a little and making her grump and puff heated air in my face, as I draped her back on my shoulder.
“You have gear nearby?” I asked the scout as I paced ahead, clasping my cloak tightly.
“Yes, though not far from here,” she answered, gesturing vaguely further into the wood’s before us.
As we set off into the woods, trying to desperately to show our backs on the burned down house, its ghostly room and garden of corpses.
I talked.
“Where to start?” I asked aloud.
“At the beginning,” Aria prompted but I shook my head, unsure how to exactly to even start the beginning of my tale-so-far.
“Right… Well, I’m from another world; a Planet called Earth.” I told her briefly of how I came to be on Viria. How I’d met Ra’al and Marisa; learnt that this w
orld was the staging ground for an invasion of sorts. That this world—her home—Viria and possibly its solar system were inside a giant bubble called a domain.
I mentioned how Ra’al, was actually a ‘Domain Leader’ and monitored the worlds and such of a domain. Ariana’s eyes grew wide at each small titbit of information. I kind of felt like an ass, dropping information on her like steaming piles of shit.
She suddenly became thoughtful and silent.
*Marisa,* I prompted, poking the sleeping dragonling’s belly with a finger.
*What? Tired!* I rolled my eyes.
*Do the people of Viria know anything about Ra’al. Like… Know or understand what he is and his role.*
*A few, but don’t worry squishy. The Valakharian Order know him as the Overseer of the ‘gods’ and are generally either fearful of him or they believe Ra’al: ‘The Son of Suns’ to be a myth.*I could hear the scorn in her voice; she made no effort to hide it either. Okay, I could work with that. At least it’ll make thing’s easier when we meet her people.
*Squishy, really?* I thought and rolled my eyes as Marisa cooed against my throat.
“The god that brought me from my world or uh- realm? Well he brought me here to stop an invasion by the Shi’en.” Which is dumb, but I didn’t mention that.
“So, you’re a… What? Demi-god?” she asked, and I nodded gravely and shrugged as I thought that over.
“What’s this power then?” she asked me, curious after I vaguely glazed over it.
“I’m sure you’ll see it tomorrow morning. I’m not all powerful though, I’ll tell you that now. I’ve a lot to learn.”
We stopped several minutes later; and the scout spun in a slow deliberate circle, halted, then nodded once and made for a tree behind me.
Stepping out of her way, as she approached a hollowed out gnarled stump of a tree. She reached within and pulled out what looked to be a tanned leather duffle bag and a pack also made of leather, though this one was darker.
I watched as she unbound the duffle and pulled out a recurve bow, the smooth sanded grain of the maple wood, shun slick like varnish. It had deeper shoulders than the usual recurve bow and looked incredibly tight and hard to pull, the string taut like a thread of life weaved between the keepers hands.
I shook my head dispelling whatever thought brought on that analogy.
She removed the string, lowering the bow to her waist so that it was flat and horizontal to her. She then thumbed an impression on the wood just above the grip. The pronged tips that shaped the end melded around her waist in a hug.
Before I knew it, she was wearing the bow like a belt just above her hips. I shook my head again and decided it was probably best not to ask.
Just nod your head and act likes it’s perfectly normal.
“So, why’re we headed north?” Ariana asked me, adjusting her bags.
“There’s supposedly a coven or something—Glen’dal if I remember correctly. With their help I’ll not inevitably become sick and die,” I said with a scowl.
I didn’t fully understand it myself, nor could I say I truly believed everything Ra’al said to me. I was pretty sure I was starting to feel it’s- his, presence every now and then. Either I freed him, or the wolf might just start biting at the bars caging him.
“You don’t seem sick,” she noted dryly.
“I’m not!” I answered immediately. “At least; not yet anyway.” I felt a strange sense of urgency, like a song stuck in your head. It’s recurring melody constantly pulling and tugging me, telling me to head north, to the mountains’ and then further.
An hour of silence passed as we moved, all of us contemplative in our cascade of idle thoughts. I started to wondered at when my body would finally give out, wagering if exhaustion would claim me like a fever dream any minute.
If Marisa was correct in saying I would weaken at night. Then night-time would probably be when I crash. We plotted on for another hour, navigating through brushes and low creeping roots. Eventually the chessboard of trees became sparse and more spread out, the ground hard, wet and frosted.
The footways and slopes inclined. We stopped by a small ground pool of water, stagnant and murky. I crouched down by it peering to see my reflection, but it was a house of mirrors, my image constantly changes, warping with each breath I took.
Would I even know myself anymore? I thought back on the men I had killed, I had already forgotten their names—at least the names I gave them.
Dehumanise them Al, I told myself. Dehumanise all of them. Everyone we face.
How easily I managed to shrug off killing other people.
I had never been a violent man. But once here I’d killed—yes to defend myself.
I think. At least I hoped I was defending myself. Maybe—what was his name? I looked down at the bracers on my arms—Scar?
Maybe he wouldn’t have pulled the trigger. I could still hear his rough heavy breathing as he moved angrily and frustrated.
I hadn’t just killed Scar. I’d killed; to kill the reminder he’d given me. If I was a smarter man, I could’ve- maybe, talked my way out. Convince them somehow. I hadn’t even thought to run. Would I suffer come tonight? I thought sullenly.
Scratching my inner thigh, I observed as Ariana moved low at the opposite bank. Touching indentation’s in the earth and nodding to herself.
“So,” I started. “What help do your people need exactly?” I asked her as she moved back around to my side.
“There are track’s about three hours old leading out 15 yards and up further towards the mountains,” Ariana told me. I nodded in affirmation and glanced in a direction she’d pointed.
“Your people?” I repeated.
*Marisa, there should be prey nearby and further towards the mountain, go hunt and return.* I sent, and Marisa uncurled from around me and without a response leapt off of me and flew into the air.
We followed at a sedate pace as Ariana told me of Pyhronia.
“My people are many, yet undivided,” she began. “We have four chieftains known as the Roak’shari and each is counselled by a seer, a trusted Loathain. My father is one such. On the eve of his death he was sent a vision and passed a request to Matron Muanu. That I was to be sent east in search of the falling sky-fire.
“A person capable of uniting our people against the threat to come. Unfortunately, the message had been intercepted by spy’s of the other Roak’shari clan’s. Our own clan was decimated; and my younger sister captured, having been blessed to a be Loathain herself, she is valuable.” Ariana’s violet eyes flashed in bitterness and anger at what had been done to her family.
Technically her clan had been decimated because of the knowledge of me—by the sounds of it. Which was ridiculously stupid.
“Three of the four Roak’shari turned on my clan and chieftain Lurthar. Killing everyone, why you ask?” She hisses the words rhetorically, because I hadn’t actually asked her why. “For power, of course!” She spat. “You see there used to be a king amongst our people, a bloodline whose lineage could be traced back to the races of the Farland’s before Zwericania’s ruin. And these three chieftains’ claim to follow such a person of this noble bloodline.
“It’s all bullshit if you ask me, they’ll claimed everything for this supposed ‘royal’ and they’ll keep claiming it till the day their sons grow rich, fat and old.”
“Wait, hold up a minute, sorry for interrupting still kind of new here,” I said waving my hands about vaguely. “Where is this Farland’s and Zwericania exactly?”
“Ah yes,” she looks at me with an odd flash to her gaze as it roams up my figure. “It’s a land to the north of Haroxi. The water between the lands is treacherous, and ripe with untold horrors so not so many of my people go the Farlands anymore. We lost the majority of our fleet around the Farland; after confronting the Kasha in their Aegis city.” She pauses and taps a finger to her lips, contemplating. “It is said that all the old and forgotten thing’s roam those lands. Only the witches would
venture there, but not too far in.”
“So, whose leading your people now?” I asked her.
“No one. My sister is held by the Iluos clan. The Valakhari- the order I belong to, will only follow those deemed worthy by the Matriarchs. The Valakharian were once the royal guard after-all. So, for now we reside neutral. My Matron was a close friend of my mother before she passed and deemed my father’s request as a curiosity.”
“Hmm, great,” I mutter quietly. So, her order is looking for an excuse to side with an outside influencer, one who would potentially be a puppet for the order. My thoughts tumbled back and forth as we walked.
“Have you eaten at all Alaric?” My name rolls off her tongue like she was playing with honey and swirling it. Images of her perfect lips made me conscious again as blood stirred in my loins.
“N-no. I haven’t at actually at all since arriving,” I replied cleared the frog in my throat. Damn, being surrounded by impressively beautiful and deadly women was going to be a struggle. Not that Marisa was able to resume her human form as of yet, so far as I knew. “let me just check on my chicken,” I said mumbling.
“Chicken?” Ariana replied questioningly, but I ignored her. Blinking my left eye to our shared sight, I saw the grotesque innards of a chest cavity, the cave of bloody and meaty ribs of a carcass that resembled a grey rabbit. The difference between old earth rabbits and this; was that this one had a red gem on its forehead. I gagged involuntarily, clenching my teeth at the abrupt visage.
*Marisa can you hear me?* I sent but received no response, she was in a grassy ditch near a mound of burrowed hole’s. I knew she heard me when she paused her chewing, but she just ignored me and carried on eating.
“She’s uh, busy. Let’s stopped for now and snack while we wait for her to return,” I suggested to the scout who went about sitting on the forest floor and unslinging her pack. I crashed unceremoniously down and stretched my legs out in front of me, watching her move.
“I hope you don’t find this intrusive at all,” I said clearing my throat. “But can I ask about the black lines that were wrapped about your axe earlier.”