The Wizard (Dungeon Core Book 1)

by MJ Kaltenbrunner

  Silence. He would wait for her to go away, leaving it that way. It was best.

  "Mertho, please. You know who I am. I know it's you, somewhere in there."

  Mertho had known the beautiful maiden was out in the world, living her life after his own disappearance. Yes, he had pined for her. Largely, that part of him was long gone and digging it up now only caused confusion and pain. It felt bad, dark, and tapped into the evil within him. That was the first time he admitted to himself that the power he now adored could possibly be a dark one.

  Gaynor...

  "Will you allow me to come to you? I would so love to see what happened all those years ago. I think I might even be owed as much."

  Yes, perhaps. Come then. You will not be harmed. She walked through the darkness, using a small lantern to light her way. There was no hesitation or fear in how fast she moved. Soon, she was at the top of the vertical passage leading down into Mertho's dungeon core chamber.

  "Are you down there?"

  Yes. I will create a stairway for you, Gaynor. That is just what he did, with the effort the average human exerts blinking their eyelids. It was easier than usual. In fact, he was starting to feel good again, the thought of seeing Gaynor, his only love, taking its effect.

  "There you are," she said as she descended the newly built stairway. "You really have made some changes with yourself since we last met, Mertho." Her smile was graceful and expressed the wit intended in her remark.

  As have you, he replied to her in her mind. I must say, I am curious as to how you can be taking this so well. Aren't you terrified of all this, of my communicating through your mind?

  "Yes, I did notice, if that is what you are wondering. There will be time to discuss everything," she said. "Please, allow me to come closer to you and just, be with you. I did love you so when we were younger."

  I will admit that I loved you then, too, even before you came to me that night and gave yourself to me. He could not reconcile the reveries of his human carnality with the inhuman thing he was now, contained within a magic core, floating amidst a green aura of dark magic.

  "I can sense your unhappiness," she said, coming closer again. "May I, can I touch, is this really you in there, Mertho?"

  You seem to know everything else, Gaynor, and I sense you already have the answer to this question in your mind too.

  She moved closer and knelt down before him, gently laying the back of her hand across the skull as it hung in the air. "You are really in there? Can you see through these empty eye sockets? Does it hurt to be contained so? Oh, I have so many things I would ask you."

  Honestly, I have questions too. I fear you would not be able to give me the answers I seek. In fact, it's been some time since I gave up wondering how I came to be this way. This is my life now, but I am better off this way. This is my true destiny, Gaynor. Although, I did love you as a man.

  "You are so stoic in your fate, my sweet Mertho."

  Mertho became aware of her body, covered in a simple robe. What happened to you after … that night?

  "I was sent to stay with the Sisters of Fate's Mercy. I suppose my dear father wanted to make sure I couldn't tell anyone what happened to his men, to your tower, and to you, my love."

  Your father, Mertho said with ire. He had assumed this was caused by Benevic and his adventurers somehow, but there was no way to know. Did he send you away to hide his guilt? I am sorry to ask you this, Gaynor, but I must know what happened. I can never truly move on and accept my fate completely until I know what set me on this path.

  "Is it revenge you seek?" she asked, lowering the pitch of her voice so that it rasped. She stood and brushed away the dust from her knees, taking time to move her hand carefully over herself. "Would you wish to harm my father, my blood relative?"

  I must admit if he did this to me... that is something I would desire. I'm sorry.

  "Please, don't be sorry," she said with a dead laugh. "Only, I must ask that you do not harm my father, as a matter of honor. I know you understand that he is the only blood relative I have left. I need him, Mertho."

  I can still understand as much.

  "Do you promise on my life, my love? I do still love you, after all. None has known my touch but you, my dear wizard." She pulled at the robe so that her legs were exposed, then undid the thin rope that acted as a belt to keep the cloth taught and from opening up. "I need to tell you something important. I do hope you'll forgive me for delaying, but I needed to know that you are still you. Your friend, the elf, is the acting rogue in my father's adventuring company. I knew something was off about her from the moment I returned home and saw her."

  Tehra? She's one of them? No, that cannot be true. It doesn't make sense. How did you know that we are acquainted?

  "One of my … father’s men followed her, coming here.”

  But I don’t understand. Mertho felt she was withholding something from him, but a powerful urge to forget about that and gaze into Gaynor’s deep hazel-green eyes was washing away his concern.

  “That’s not important. Stay calm, my love. You will have your time to take revenge, I assure you of as much. She has rallied a dungeon diving party made up of the entire company, my father included. They come to destroy you as a thing of evil, but I know that you are still righteous and good. You will honor your promise not to harm my father, won't you?"

  What would you have me do?

  "When he arrives, he must see that I still love you. He must see that I will not give up hope of having you as my husband."

  That can never be... It was not the first time the idea had come to his mind. Could he ever be human again? If so, he wasn't sure that was the choice he would make. Now that Gaynor was here with him, her charms powerful and her love remaining after all this time... I will allow him to know our love.

  As Mertho's heart melted all over again, something dark was growing.

  36

  Tehra set the house moving out of the stable, trying to minimize the clip-clopping by holding the reins taught and testing how slowly her horse could walk. It was such an obvious sound that she knew anyone out there or walking by would know she was there. It was good that the sound from inside the company was greater, as it worked to mask her mount.

  As she came out onto the street, Tehra was only a split second away from squeezing her horse to get him running. That was too long apparently because the door of the company building swung open and someone shouted to her. "Hey, you're running later than everyone else! Benevic is likely to lose his head if you don't hurry up and get your elf behind in here." It was one of the men who she wasn't very familiar with. Not that she was proud of it, but Tehra was yet to learn the names of everyone.

  "Yes, alright," she said. Then, she remained motionless, glancing back over at the warrior to see that he was still standing there, then looking ahead and at the way that she wanted to go. Then, back at him.

  "What are you doing?" he asked. The deadpan way he spoke made it hard to judge whether he was implying something, or if he was perhaps making up his own mind already about what the elf was up to. "Come on, I been tasked with finding you and getting you inside, now that Yuri's busy with helping plan this dive. What's wrong with you?"

  "I'll just put my horse to stable," she said. "Go inside, and you'll see me in less than a minute. Where else would I go?"

  "Don't know," he replied. "Don't care what's going on between you and Yuri either. All I know is he made me promise not to take my eyes off you once I found you." He was already wearing his suit of mail armor, which went down nearly to his knees. His helm was not on his head yet, nor were his gauntlets or pauldrons. It looked as though he had been halfway through getting suited up in his armor when he'd been given the task of fetching Tehra. The young man did not seem particularly happy to have been yanked out of the excitement of preparing for a genuine dungeon dive either.

  "What are you doing?" the elf asked, completely aware that the warrior's mood was souring by the second.

  "I
thought your kind was meant to have better'n average hearing and perception. Come on; I'll help you get that mount back in the stable." He walked over and took the horse's reins, then guided it back down the alley that led to the company stables behind the main building.

  She would have been lying to say she hadn't thought of attacking the warrior and riding away. It seemed like the fastest way to eject herself from this situation, but it was also sure to bring the entire company out to see what all the commotion was about. There was a near total chance that he would raise the alarm before Tehra could take him down, even if she aimed to kill. With that armor on, her sword would not do much unless she could stab him through the skull or perhaps get under his chin above where the mail began.

  The idea of trying to kill the somewhat innocent young man was unappealing. If they were going to take down a magical dungeon without any experienced magic users in the party, there was a good chance this lesser experienced warrior would die anyway. Her hand was on the hilt of her knife, old faithful blade.

  When the horse was in its station, and the man moved aside to allow her to step down from it, he looked up at her with innocent eyes. They were shining in the moon's light that came in through the open stable door. Tehra tried to make herself draw the blade and put it through his jugular but failed.

  "What are you waiting for?" he said.

  "Nothing." Tehra unsheathed her blade with speed that he could not have anticipated, and shot her arm out. The hard steel at the butt of the hilt made its mark right between the warrior's eyes.

  He grunted but remained standing.

  Again and again, Tehra smashed the hilt into his temple. The third strike did the trick, and he stumbled back onto a bundle of hay that conveniently stopped him from cracking his skull open on the hard wooden floor of the stable. "Sorry about that," she whispered, jumping down beside his fallen body. Yes, the young man was still breathing and had not started bleeding from the head. "This is your lucky day," she added.

  Finally, the anxious elf rode quietly from the stable once again, and no one came to interrupt her escape this time. The moment she was away from the company building, she kicked her horse into a gallop and did not allow it to let up. Until she saw a group of people in the road directly in her way. Their faces were not visible in the dark, even though they stood near a street lantern on a main street that Tehra was approaching.

  "Easy, boy," she said to her horse to comfort him. This was the same mount that had darted aside to avoid the ogre as it charged them, throwing her into the river. That would have ended in a brutal death, had the beast not been fleeing for its own life already and chosen to run by her. That was not going to happen this time. As she drew closer, Tehra really didn't like the look of the group. They were facing her and had shining steel in their hands.

  "Stay with me, boy," Tehra said to her mount. She knew he was a good horse and would not blow it this time.

  "Stop!" shouted out one of the robed figures as Tehra approached them. They were standing at the intersection of two streets. There were enough of them to block off the path of the horse, as well as the intersecting street.

  Tehra knew this was going to be a deadly gambit when she saw each of them had a long dagger with some kind of decoration. They looked like the kind of armaments that would be perfectly suited to Mertho's dungeon. As the elf had her horse slow down, the robed figures began to walk toward her.

  "Dismount and do as we say," said another of the robed figures. They seemed to be men, at least the one who had spoken was. Though, on closer inspection, there were some of them with more shapely figures beneath their robes.

  "Alright, just don't hurt me," Tehra replied with a forced pathetic voice. "Is there trouble?"

  "Not yet. That's why we've been watching you. To make sure you don't make any," said one of them, a woman. She came up faster than the others and tightly gripped her dagger, where the others held them by their sides.

  "How about now?" shouted Tehra, pushing her horse into a trot, and kicking the robed woman in the face, knocking her backward into her brethren.

  "Stop!" they shouted and gave chase, but Tehra managed to get her horse by them.

  She was a good twenty feet farther along the street, and well away from the creepy group, when a pang of dread took over her mind. Something terrible was going to happen soon, she knew it. Fear, anxiety, nothing good was left in the world. "No!" she called out, the effort from doing so draining her. Tehra began to slip sideways off her horse and the animal this time kept its wits about it and stopped running. As the beast came to a standstill, the elf was able to hold on more easily, but she felt weak.

  An invisible force gripped her. The connection between herself and the wizard felt inflamed, like her mind was burning up with negative energy. "What is happening to my head? I wish I was dead," she sobbed into the thick main of her mount, gripping the well-groomed hairs and half lying forward. "There's no reason to keep going on." Tehra thought about the knife that was left with her as a baby when someone had discarded her to live the life of an orphan. It might have belonged to anyone, even though she had always been adamant that it was left by a family member. Possible her mother or father, to show they were still in the world and hadn't abandoned her.

  It slipped easily from its sheath, and the cold steel kissed her neck. Tehra had not even realized that she was holding it up to her skin. What was she doing? Mertho, are you there? What is happening to me? Why have you left me alone now? Alone just like everyone else she had ever known. Even before she could walk, her whole world had been nothing but abandonment and feeling trapped in a world that hated her.

  "Stop there, you!" called out a woman. It was the same one who had been kicked in the face earlier. "Wretched elf! I'm going to enjoy this!"

  The elf turned, her knife still to her own throat. She had decided to end her suffering by spilling her own blood but had no idea why now. The dread within her was swiftly forming into a rage, and she wanted to lash out at the nearest person. Tehra screamed and threw her knife at the oncoming woman in her robe. It stuck in the shadows of her face, and the hood fell away from her to reveal just a regular looking human woman. An ordinary human being, but now with Tehra's knife sticking out of her forehead and pissing a fine spray of blood around the blade's entry point.

  "I enjoyed that!" Tehra screamed. "Did you?" She drew her short sword and turned the mount so that her right arm was facing toward them and that side of the horse. The mount was trained for use in combat and was not much worried by the robed figures. They were nothing compared to things like ogres or even the nastier variety of human warriors.

  Tehra slashed at the first hooded figure, making contact with their ornate dagger and deflecting it easily. They had no technique or ability, and the weapon was not well suited to proper fighting. This made it easy to follow through with the deflecting blow and then stab at the upper chest of the man who was holding it. "Infidel! We shall—" he began to shout up at the elf on horseback, but Tehra yanked the blade back and made another stab around the same area, penetrating with ease. The man fell and gave way to his brethren behind him.

  "You will not interfere with the prophecy!" shouted the next man to rush at the elf. There were at least five more behind him, which seemed to be greater than the number who were originally waiting for Tehra to ride up to them.

  The feeling of rage made her hate them, wish they were all slowly boiling to death in a vat of water, of blood taken from hundreds of innocent people. It didn't bother her who they were, other women, children, the sick, the poor. "You're all going to die!" she screamed at them so fiercely that it felt as though her throat would begin sputtering blood.

  The others were not as eager to charge right at the elf without a strategy. They swung their long daggers at her and shifted left and right in an arc-like path. But they were only testing, waiting for a change for one of their numbers to jump forward at the very moment when a lapse in her psychotic swordplay presented itself.

&nb
sp; "Tire her out," said one of the robed people. We need all of our numbers for the cause. "As long as she doesn't escape, we have time!" The other shouted in agreement.

  Tehra's rage began to fall back to despair as the group stopped rushing toward her and became more defensive in surrounding her. It seemed as though she was going to fail to warn Mertho when she noticed, too late, that several of them had managed to sneak around to the other side of her horse to block her in.

  "Come at me, you cowards!" she cried at them in an almost mournful wailing. "You're pathetic! Kill me! Come on!" While she held her sword at the ready, intent on slashing each one of them to pieces if given the option, Tehra could not pretend her challenge was empty. If one of those ornate daggers had been plunged into her heart, it would have filled her with the most wondrous sense of peace at last. Death and blackness were all she could see.

  "What is happening to me?" she said.

  "There they are! Hey, you lot! Put up your arms and get onto the ground!" It was a confident male voice emitting from farther up the street where they had all come from. A group came around the corner of the intersection, the light from the street lantern making polished armor and sharpened swords and polearms glean. "In the name of the city guard, do as you are ordered or prepare to fight!" called out the man.

  "What do we do?" asked one of the hooded figures.

  "Call the others," answered another. Yet another of the robed assailants took a round tube-like thing from inside their robe and placed the end to their lips. It as a horn, which let out a shrill but loud signal when he blew into it.

  Another of the robed figures showed up in the shadows at the far end of the intersection, as though they had been waiting there. And another. There were ten more of them running at the back of the city guard before long. These reinforcements must have been waiting in a nearby building or back alley in case they were needed. It would not have seemed necessary to take more than a handful of men to stop just one elf on a horse.