“You feeling okay?” they ask after a minute of silence.
Trinity chuckles as she politely offers, “You first.”
“What was with your all business tone and the kiss?” the Lich asks, disgusted by the display. “You were too helpful and accommodating. If he feels that you’re playing him or that you’re protecting that gypsy then he will attack you. Don’t play dangerous games with him, chaos queen.”
Trinity makes an exaggerated curtsy. “I’m flattered that you would be concerned with my well-being.”
The Lich shakes his head, finding it hard to voice his thoughts. “You are my only ally in this lair, so your well-being is connected to my well-being. I don’t want your actions to pit me against my former teacher. It would be a waste of my energy and my ignorant pawn.”
“Well, don’t be afraid,” Trinity says with a mocking pat to the Lich’s covered head. “I’m earning more of his trust by making him think that his needs are coming before ours. In the end, Kalam is an egotistical braggart who needs to feel like he’s in charge. There is no need for you to tell him that I plan on limiting the amount of access he has to our gypsy. After all, we agreed that she would be more useful as our pawn than a floor-cleaning, food-serving blood bag.”
“Yes, yes. I have given up arguing that point with you,” the Lich responds, his mind beginning to wander elsewhere. “Maybe Nyder or Yola can do something with her once we return to the Shayd.”
Trinity notices that his voice has drifted off and she steps in front of the necrocaster. She leans toward him and wrinkles her nose at the foul stench that wafts from under his cowl.
“What’s on your maggot-infested mind?” she quietly asks.
“It is his report about Luke Callindor. I find it . . . I don’t even know how to describe it,” the Lich replies in frustration.
Trinity shrugs helplessly and looks out to where the plumes of fire continue to erupt. “Maybe you feel like Kalam stole your rightful prey. You are the first monster of note to get involved with the boy. It wouldn’t surprise me if you adopted him as your personal enemy. I know that I would have been rather depressed and angry if Kalam returned to tell me that he had killed Nyx. I want that pleasure for myself much like you wanted Luke’s death to be on your hands.”
The Lich shrugs and stares at the sky. “I guess that is part of it.”
“That’s all of it,” Trinity swears, growing bored with the conversation.
“There is something else. I don’t know how to explain it, but I feel that our problems with the Callindor are not over yet,” the Lich says, fighting to focus on the strange feeling in the back of his mind.
“That’s a powerful statement. Luke is dead unless his friends resurrect him or he found a way to resist Kalam’s spell. Both options are impossible if you ask me,” Trinity claims, politely covering her mouth as she yawns. “I say you relax for an hour and then get to work on making undead for the second attack. I heard of a gorgeous battlefield hidden in the forest to the west. It’s barely two hours away.”
The Lich begins to ramble, his voice tainted with a sudden madness. “Luke has survived so much since I first encountered him. It should not surprise me that his luck finally ran out. Maybe I am being foolish and greedy. He was my rightful prey and he was stolen from me by an accident. I will have to take Kalam’s life when the time comes in order to satisfy myself.”
“While you do that, I’m going to have Sari draw me a hot bath and then I’m going to sleep,” the chaos elf declares, feeling her weariness catch up to her.
“I am beginning to wonder if you simply want that girl for yourself. I did not know you had such interests,” the grinning Lich teases.
Trinity crosses her arms and glares at the necrocaster. “You know very well that, unlike other races, all elves look beyond gender to see a person’s beauty. Sari is an attractive girl with a powerful spirit, which makes her very appealing to me. I wouldn’t mind having her as a personal servant, but our master might want her for himself.”
“I will not waste any more of your time. Enjoy your bath and your sleep,” the Lich says. Trinity watches the Lich carefully as she leaves him to his thoughts on the balcony.
The Lich slams his bony fist onto the railing in agonizing frustration. Luke’s aura once ran through his bones and, unknown to his allies, he has been craving another taste. He stretches his senses for any trace of Luke’s aura. Even the recently deceased still hold a hint of aura, but the Lich finds nothing. He begins to believe that Kalam had killed Luke and wiped the warrior’s energy completely off the face of Windemere. Still, the Lich cannot shake the feeling that something is wrong.
“I must know what happened on that battlefield, but to investigate it might make Kalam suspicious of me. I must practice patience and restraint in the face of this mystery. The truth will reveal itself in due time,” the Lich hisses to the shadows.
*****
Snaking pillars of smoke rise to the sky and the air around the clearing is filled with the smell of charred bodies. The area has been burned black along the forest edges while an intense light illuminates the center of the quiet battlefield. This light is the fiery glow that throbs from every pore of Nyx’s body as she seethes with rage. It is not until Aedyn puts a gentle hand on her shoulder and she hears the sound of his sizzling flesh that Nyx collapses to her knees. The fire coursing from Nyx’s body fades away as she lets warm tears run down her face. Her puffy eyes look at the pale and tear-streaked faces of Talos and Ilan who are standing over Luke’s body. It takes her a few minutes before she can bring herself to look at the corpse. She feels nauseous as she watches faint wisps of light rise from his gore-covered body and clothing.
“It’s like he feel asleep after the battle,” Nyx chokes.
“Yeah,” Aedyn agrees, healing his hand.
“I don’t understand. Neither spell was aimed at him,” Ilan whispers, wiping his eyes with his sleeve.
“That white-scaled fireskin used an unfamiliar spell, but I think I get the idea. It was designed to attack the most recent threat to his life. That was why he only attacked Isaiah and why his spell refused to go where his hands were pointing. Luke’s last second attack on that necrocaster changed the spell’s target,” Nyx explains. She falls to her knees next to Luke and cradles his head. “Isaiah was using a counterspell designed to weaken and negate the other spell, so it rushed to intercept the dark spell. Luke was hit by both spells, but it looks like Isaiah’s spell was only able to preserve Luke’s body.”
“I should tell my wife and prepare her for seeing him. Can I trust you to bring Luke to my father’s home, Aedyn?” Ilan asks softly.
Aedyn bows as he promises, “Of course. May I ask why you want him there instead of your own home?”
“It is customary for a Callindor to be cremated upon the family pyre, which is found on the grounds of Goldheart Manor. I will talk to Alyssa about holding the funeral in three days. The preparations are to be done by the oldest member of the family,” Talos says, his voice dry and crackling. “I will clean and purify the body of my grandson and dress it in our traditional vestments before the funeral. I should leave and start the preparations. I will bring that unconscious caster to my home too.”
Talos shivers in the evening air and briefly places a numb hand on the shoulder of his son before walking over to Isaiah. The slender elf struggles to get under the heavy fireskin until he is entirely covered by the scaly body. Talos grits his teeth as he lifts the caster off the ground and begins his slow walk back to Haven. Ilan is still crying when he turns away from the body of his son and weakly wanders away from the battlefield. Aedyn grips his staff while he watches Ilan and Talos disappear into the growing darkness.
“I can’t take this anymore,” Nyx whimpers.
“What do you mean?” the priest asks.
“Death follows me everywhere I go,” Nyx says through her uncontrollable sobbing. “First, my father died before I ever met him. Then, I lost my mother and my birth
village to monsters. I’ve befriended several apprentices who died attempting powerful spells and city guards who have died trying to stop a criminal. Now, I’ve lost Fritz and Luke in less than a month. I don’t want to lose any more friends. Let someone else face the coming darkness, so I can be left alone.”
Aedyn kneels next to Nyx, his voice falling to a whisper. “Do you really think Luke’s death has anything to do with you?”
“It’s the fate of anyone who helps me,” Nyx replies, tears dripping onto Luke’s brow.
“That is ridiculous. Luke was doing reckless things like this long before you met him. His death was brought on by his own actions and not because he agreed to help you save Windemere,” Aedyn states. He can see Nyx begin to shake, so he places a gentle arm around her shoulders. “If you doubt my words then remember that Luke lived up to his promise to protect you. You would have been killed in that explosion if he had not thrown you into the river.”
“I still have water ghast up my nose,” Nyx mutters with a small snort.
“He died trying to save Isaiah. Does this really surprise you after traveling and fighting alongside him?” the priest asks, smiling tenderly at the caster.
“Luke would still be alive if he never promised to help me. He would have remained in Freedom or gone back to Kira instead of following me to his death,” Nyx says, a growing rush of anger in her voice. “Damn it! I just wish he hadn’t gone and got himself killed. That annoying bastard!”
“Be careful, Nyx. Your anger will consume you if you let it,” Aedyn warns her.
“What about you? I don’t see you crying and being all weepy,” the caster snaps, a furious glare aimed at the priest.
“A few warm tears have found their way down my face, but I am finding it difficult to feel anything,” Aedyn admits, a shameful expression on his face. “I feel numb and cold as if my heart has decided to cut itself off to all forms of emotion.”
“In other words, your grief is too severe for your heart to feel it,” Nyx whispers. She pulls her legs against her chest and places her forehead on her knees.
“It would appear so. I am not surprised since Fritz’s death hit me very hard and now I must cope with the loss of Luke. Though, that may only be part of the reason for my numbness,” Aedyn explains in a dull, low voice. “As a priest of the sun, I have been trained to hold my emotions in check in order to be there for others in their times of grief. The sun gives warmth to all with no concern for its own feelings. That is one of my temple's core beliefs and I feel that this is a situation where I must uphold it without fail. I will grieve in private and be there to give warmth to you and the Callindors during this time.”
“That sounds like a horrible idea,” Nyx argues, her eyes red and puffy. “It isolates you from the other mourners and you come off as uncaring. You should let yourself go during the funeral at least.”
“I do not want to think of the funeral,” the priest says, his body becoming tense and rigid. “The practice of cremation has been long debated within my order. Some believe that a body should be purified by warmth and heat like that of the sun. Others, including myself, feel that the body should be placed within a glass coffin in a well-lit clearing for two days. This allows the body to absorb enough sunlight for the afterworld before it is buried. Personally, I think cremation is nothing more than the desecration of a body.”
Nyx gets to her feet and wipes the dirt from her clothes. “Either way, the person is dead and goes back to Windemere. That’s why I have little concern for what is done with my body when I die. I will be dead and I won’t be doing anything ever again. I don’t understand why people concern themselves with what happens after they die or with what happens to their body when they die. It seems like a waste of time.”
“That is rather morbid. I would think someone like you would wish to be consumed by fire. It is your favored element, after all,” Aedyn says as he gets to his feet. “Sorry. That was a very heartless thing to say at a time like this.”
“Some priest . . . you . . . are,” Nyx whispers, her voice trailing off.
Aedyn gives her a worried look when she grins devilishly at him. The look in the caster’s eyes causes a chill to run up the priest’s spine. A crazed glimmer grows in her violet eyes until Aedyn has to turn away from the disturbing expression. Nyx licks her lips and nervously rubs her hands together. She steps in front of Aedyn quickly and puts her hands on his shoulders with a vice-like grip. The priest can feel her sharp nails leaving marks in his skin.
“You’re a priest,” she finally blurts out.
“I am glad to see that you have remembered this. Now, I must bring Luke’s body to his grandfather’s house,” Aedyn cautiously says.
“You can do healing magic, Aedyn!” she exclaims.
Aedyn thinks about what she’s saying for a few seconds before he snaps, “I know where you are going with this, Nyx. My answer is no.”
“Come on, Aedyn,” Nyx begs the priest, her voice quivering on the verge of hysterics. “I know that priests of the sun are one of the few orders with the knowledge to resurrect the dead. I can lend you some of my magic if you don’t think you’re strong enough. I’m pretty sure I can design a magic transference spell by tomorrow. Please help me on this.”
“The resurrection spell is the most powerful casting permitted by the gods. It is not something to be used lightly,” Aedyn angrily argues.
Nyx viciously slaps the priest across the face before pushing him away from her in disgust. She rushes over to Luke’s body in order to awkwardly straddle it and puts up her fists like she’s in a boxing match. Aedyn is still rubbing at his throbbing cheek while he tries to approach her. He stops when Nyx creates a crackling shield of magic around her and the corpse. Tears stream down Nyx’s face as she watches Aedyn walk to the edge of the barrier.
“I can’t believe you, Aedyn!” Nyx screeches hysterically. “You have the power to bring Luke back and you refuse to do it. I hope you die for this!”
“Do not speak about things that you do not understand. Let me take Luke’s body to his grandfather’s. I do not want to argue with you any more,” the priest responds. He reaches a hand toward the barrier, but pulls back when a stone spike erupts from the ground. “Damn it, Nyx! Even my patience has its limits.”
“I’ll keep Luke safe until I can find a priest who will help me,” Nyx announces, crouching lower until she is practically sitting on Luke’s chest. “Maybe Luke can be saved by a total stranger instead of a trusted friend.”
Aedyn clenches his fist before muttering a spell, which encases his hand in a blinding light. He rears back and punches the crimson barrier with all of his strength. Nyx is shocked when she feels her magic barrier shatter around her. The magic-infused punch of Aedyn connects with her chest and the caster is sent tumbling into the charred remains of a zombie dwarf. Nyx is struggling to her feet when she is flipped onto her back and pinned to the ground by Aedyn’s staff against her throat. Nyx lets her body go limp as she avoids looking up at the priest.
“If I had the power to cast the resurrection spell then I would have used it on Fritz,” Aedyn snarls before taking his staff away from Nyx’s throat.
“So, you can’t cast it,” Nyx states, her despair plastered across her face.
“Everyone thinks it is easy to use the resurrection spell and that it never fails. The truth is that it rarely works, which is why there are only a few stories of it ever being used. Many temples have tried to dispel the rumors, but people who are overrun with grief never listen to reason,” Aedyn says, pausing to rub his bloodshot eyes. “Just think about it, Nyx. You can imagine the disasters that would come from a world where everyone could be resurrected with ease.”
Nyx wipes the tears from her cheeks. “How does the spell work?”
“The priest must rebuild the life force and the aura of the deceased. This requires that the priest have an intimate connection to the deceased such as the type between significant others, parents and their children, a
nd siblings. There have been a few cases where childhood friends have accomplished this spell, but they always knew the deceased since birth,” Aedyn calmly explains, looking Nyx in the eyes before continuing. “If the connection between priest and deceased is too weak then the life force and the aura have a high risk of becoming corrupted. All manners of disasters can occur when this happens. For example, the deceased could return to life as a life-sucking ghast. Other failures have resulted in the deceased returning without any memories. There is even one documented case where the deceased returned with the aura of the priest who resurrected her. The priest became an empty husk that eventually died of starvation. As for the resurrected, she went insane and killed herself along with her entire family.”
“I’m sorry, Aedyn,” Nyx apologizes, her face staring shamefully at the ground. “I didn’t know the risk was so high. Please, forgive me for hitting you and wishing you died.”
Aedyn pats her on the head like a pet dog. “I forgive you, Nyx. I admire the strength and love that you show for Luke. If I did not know any better, I would say you two really were siblings. Now, I must carry Luke’s body away before the townspeople or nearby animals start snooping around.”
“Hey, Aedyn,” whispers Nyx, who grabs the priest by the sleeve. “Thanks for saying what you just said. It makes me feel good to hear that.”
“Making people feel good about themselves is part of my job as a bringer of warmth and light,” the priest proudly states. He carefully bends down to pick up Luke’s limp body. “So, what are you going to do?”
“I’m going to cleanse the area with a few spells. I should purify the river before something tries to drink the water,” Nyx answers. She bends down to pick up and cradle the swords. “I should cleanse Luke’s sabers before we give them to him.”
Nyx notices Luke’s arm dangling and reaches out to touch it. She holds the cold hand for a minute before gently placing it on Luke’s still chest. Aedyn smiles warmly at her until she turns away from him. She can hear the priest grunt while trying to walk with Luke’s body. The caster grimaces at the sound of a muttered curse and a soft thud. She refuses to turn around and begins casting her purifying spells.
Legends of Windemere: 03 - Allure of the Gypsies Page 21