by Kyle Belote
“Here, here,” cheered Atz and Lurx, the dwaven, in unison.
“Should any dragons come into the scene, we fairies will try what we can,” Zmora pledged. “It may not be enough. Our Head of Creatures must be informed that we are entering the war.”
“And we centaurs will not give into this war either!” Sedrus nagged defiantly. “That comes from the Mother Centaur.”
“That figures!” Meristal reproved coldly. “You centaurs never were too brave, were you?”
Sedrus reared up before coming down hard, stamping his hooves. He glowered down at the beautiful wizard. “What is that supposed to mean, Witchen?”
“It is quite clear what I meant!” Meristal retorted, holding his gaze. His audacity to call her names was a short-lived bravery punctuated by Judas’ absence. Sedrus insulted her, calling her an evil magical user, like calling Judas a sorcerer. “You and your kind stick to yourselves when everyone else needs your aid, but the moment trouble finds you, you squeal and scream for us to help. Your pacifist act is getting a little old, don’t you think? The centaurs hadn’t left your forest for battle or war since the dwaven and centaurs conflict.”
“You, and everyone else like you, are cowards,” Scodd Yullus grunted, his brontide voice breaking the mounting tension between the centaur and Meristal.
Sedrus glared at him for a moment but otherwise cowered to the sudden confrontation. He swung his attention back to Meristal. “I am done. Do you hear me? I am out. I’ll keep your secrets because I know the warlock will come after me if I didn’t, but don’t expect anything else from me.”
The centaur turned his back and galloped off in the direction of Ralloc.
Meristal screamed after him. “Know this, when we are all gone, no one will come to your aid when Xilor decides you’re his next victim!”
“Let him go,” Yullus advised. “We are acquainted with their position. The past repeats itself. Let him go; we don’t need him.”
“I didn’t realize that the elyves carried such a hate for the vampires. I thought revenge was beneath you,” Zmora mused.
“The Clan may not be out for revenge, but I am. And there will be much blood spilled before I am satisfied.”
“Right,” Meristal grumbled as she turned to face the others. “If we stand and fight together, we will stand much stronger and last longer than individually.”
“Agreed,” Scodd concurred. “However, it is imperative that we take the vampires ourselves.”
Meristal nodded. “I hope we can count on you to join us in what will probably be the most crucial battle: the battle for the Corridor. If we lose there, we could lose the Domain very easily.”
“We could bleed him there,” the War Commander advised. “If Cape Gythmel is lost, we should exact a heavy toll. While I have pledged allegiance when dealing with the vampires, it is up to the king to decide if we will ride to war with you.” Scodd switched subjects. “Where is the warlock, if you do not mind me asking.”
“Judas and his apprentice are inside the Corridor or so I guess. He would have made contact by now if they were out. I assume his apprentice is having difficulty finding her way across.” Meristal laid a map of the Realm down on the porch for everyone to see. “The elyves will march from their Enclave in the north of the Vikal Mountains, through Cross Roads in the southwest. From there they will make a west-by-southwest approach to Shadow City. After you defeat the vampires, contact us. We may still be in the Cape, and you can march southeast and join your forces with the rest of us or we might have you augment Dlad City as a backup. It will be up to the War Council at that point.”
“What is Ralloc’s plan?” Scodd inquired. “Are they going to attempt to fortify Troll City?”
Meristal barked a laugh. “There is no plan, not yet, at least. The Council is still in denial about the whole thing. The first casualties and refuges will snap them out of apathy.”
“That doesn’t bode well for the victims.”
“I agree, and I will do what I can, but don’t expect much until it happens.”
“What if Xilor beats us to Cape Gythmel?” Mella broke in, a thoughtful look on her face.
“Then we will have to fight harder to reclaim it,” Meristal addressed with a ring of authority. “This is the plan: Nobody moves until I give the signal; I will join Judas in Marcoalyn Domain and hopefully spur him into action before Xilor attacks. With any luck, he will. If so, I will get him to the Cape where he can help organize a defense. I will contact you all through the Psimond method. Cape Gythmel is not fortified to withstand a battle, so whoever gets there first needs to start assembling a defensive structure and evacuate everyone to Dlad City and then to Ralloc.” Meristal stood and looked at everyone. Feeling their resolve, she moved away from the group.
Everyone said their goodbyes and readied themselves to depart. This meeting would be the last time they would see each other for a while, and maybe even the last time ever for some. They all knew the risks of war; no one wanted it, but they would fight if the need arises. Meristal knew that when Xilor returned, the jyneruls of the War Council would finally raise an army to oppose him, but she was afraid this would be too late.
“We cannot pledge allegiance to any side, as I am sure you can appreciate,” a voice whispered. Meristal looked up but didn’t see anyone. She turned as a being materialized. Large white wings folded delicately behind her. Her face was angular, sharp, prominent cheekbones and a high ridged nose.
“Adoreria,” Meristal smiled. “I should have known.” The Archangel dipped her head, touching the fingers of her right hand to her forehead. Meristal waved the gesture away. “I do not warrant such a greeting.”
“Perhaps not officially.”
“Has anyone–?”
“No,” the Archangel interrupted. “No one has sent me. And as I stated, we cannot take sides; it is forbidden. But that doesn’t mean we will let Xilor go unmolested. Difficulties and setbacks are bound to arise along the way.”
Meristal smiled and sat on the steps, inviting Adoreria to do the same. “I believe we have some catching up to do.”
The Archangel sat down beside her, a smile spreading across her face. “Indeed, we do.”
***
Chapter 22 : The Corridor Of Cruelty
The world spun, the first sensation she remembered. Her eyes fluttered open, and the blackness faded at the edges of her visions. Sounds, much like the rushing wind on a breezy autumn day, came and went. The humidity clung heavily, like a thick blanket in summer, making her sweat profusely. Drifting off seemed like the best thing to do at this point.
Too humid….
She awoke again to light but couldn’t distinguish the source; she embraced the inviting warmth. A sense of deja vu settled over her. I’m almost positive this has happened before … maybe not the same, but close enough.
“Wake up. Time to move on to your next task,” a voice instructed.
“I can’t see,” she mumbled back, still sleepy.
A small chuckle coiled through the air. “You can if you open your eyes.”
She opened them. Blurred images danced across her vision before coming into focus. Above her, a familiar face she once trusted and liked, but now despised, hovered over her. Bitterness and a shade of hate washed over her as she recalled her death. “You left me! You left me to die!” she snapped, sitting up, coming fully awake.
“Yes and no,” Judas muttered. His voice was soft and inviting.
“What do you mean ’yes and no’? You left me, and I had to fend for myself against that … that thing!”
“Yes, I left you, and yes, you had to fend for yourself, just as you say. But were you successful?”
“NO!” Julie yelled. “And you know it!”
“Yes, and did you succeed the first time you ever called upon your essence? Did you bend the flame? Did you know how to do it the first time you tried?” He waited for a response, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. “No, you didn’t. At some point al
ong the way, someone had to let go of you so you could learn for yourself. Right?”
“Yes,” she grudgingly replied. He had a point.
“The other reason I left you is because I had to. The Corridor works in different ways for everyone. My path lies in a different direction than yours. Do you remember when we were at the sign? My way was the middle one, but yours went off in a different direction. You must face everything alone. I cannot interfere. Well, let me put it another way: I shouldn’t interfere. We can travel together, but there are times when I can’t be with you, and you must understand that. I will be with you in the mornings and possibly in the evenings.”
“You could have warned me!” Julie accused harshly. Her irritation faded with his spoken truth, and she resented both.
“Why? Did anyone tell you they were letting go of you while you were swimming? Probably not. If they had, what would have happened?”
“I would panic.”
“Correct!” he exclaimed, pointing at her for emphasis. “There was no reason to make you panic, especially not on top of the panic you already faced when you encountered that D’viquis.”
“Is that what the thing is called?” Julie exclaimed.
“Yes. One of the more dangerous creatures you can encounter, and the beast can only be found here. Do you have any questions?”
“Yeah. If I died, how come I am not dead?”
“You didn’t die. Do you remember the spell I told you about, the Curse of Fear? It allows the person casting to influence a hallucination that it translates as real? You remember?” Julie nodded. “The Cruelty works in the same way, but the damage inflicted is not real. Every time you ‘die’, you just fall asleep. Each time you wake, you will face something new. Every day, you will keep waking up to relive some horror.”
“Do I have to fight a D’viquis again?”
“Maybe,” he confessed and then thought briefly. “Maybe not today. Whatever you face will be decided for you. I will admit, you did great. You survived longer than I expected,” Judas praised, before swiftly switching the subject. “Remember what I said: this place will either make you stronger or drive you insane, and this is why these tests are placed before you, to strengthen your mind or shatter it.”
“Great. I don’t know magic, and I’m not a decent caster, yet I still have to go through tests. That’s terrific!”
“I’ll teach you more on the way,” Judas promised. “Your aura does not match your knowledge; the tasks before you are not as difficult as mine were, but I will admit that I am hesitant to continue. I find it troubling that your first test was rather hard. Granted your potential ability to draw on magic is phenomenal, but I wonder about your control. For someone as substantial as you are, I am surprised your control is lacking.”
I should be powerful. A sudden yearning ached within her at the thought.
They broke the make-shift camp and took off. Judas lead the way up the winding cliff-side trail. The long uphill trudge sapped their strength, lacking energy for idle conversation. Silence and an agonizing progression accompanied them constantly. The path twisted around and doubled back, and at times, Julie suspected they weren’t making any progress. When her legs started to cramp, they stopped for a break.
Judas instructed her about little oddities of the realm, brief and unimportant histories to get her mind off what lay ahead. He also furthered her education by touching back on the levitation spell he supplied in Dlad City. By the time they were ready, the pebbles refused to move under her edict. The only influence she managed was by kicking them in frustration.
The footpath finally leveled off and wound back downhill. Julie sighed in relief, grateful for the change in the passageway; going down seemed easier than going up for her.
Probably because of my short legs.
The decline provided its own unique difficulties. Julie found it hard to slow herself when she picked up speed.
In the distance, birds chirped and wildlife teemed. The more she listened, the less the sounds seemed real and ambient. Something peculiar about the resonance, one she couldn’t identify. The chirps seemed flat, and the crickets, muted and negligible. Even the wind sounded hollow. The sky above darkened noticeably; despite the arduous journey, they hadn’t traveled all the day’s light away. She didn’t fret, but the omen set her on edge, the agitation flaring up like a spasming muscle. The silence during their downhill trek was only punctuated by their thundering breath and clattering rocks. Julie’s lungs burned, and her knees and ankles ached from the impacts on the rocky slopes.
After many hours of traveling and several stops, Judas finally spoke. “Congratulations, you learned one lesson for today, which is patience. Your second task lies ahead. You will notice the sky has darkened as we have traveled further down the hillside. This will not be a test of skill but of wits. However, my destiny lies along another route. I will greet you on the other side.”
Judas stopped walking just as abruptly as the day before, and Julie walked around. A sign stood in the middle of the trail, cobbled together in the same fashion as the last, weathered, tacked together, and hardly standing. A lantern hung from the post beneath, and the sign read:
This is to light as wet is to rain, do this to the sign and you can remain.
“Remain? What does that mean, Master Judas?” Julie queried, fretting.
“Remain in the Corridor. It will spit you out, and you will have to start over from the outside if you get this wrong,” Judas cautioned. “Take your time.” Julie never detected him creeping silently back up the path.
Julie pondered the riddle before her. She reread the first line. “This is to light as wet is to rain.” Searching for deeper meaning, she puzzled the riddle, aware of the tension nettling her shoulders.
Water is wet, and is rain, she mused, so light is heat, and heat is light; and those two come together in …?
“Fire!” she said aloud. She mentally kicked herself for taking so long. “Fire is the answer. We light it on fire.”
Are you sure of your decision? a voice asked. Chills raced down her arms, realizing the voice was not hers or Judas’. Did the Corridor possess the capability to enter the mind?
“Yes. Yes, I am,” she answered, as if the owner of the voice was there, in the flesh. The voice grew silent, a sense of waiting settled over her, but for what, she couldn’t identify.
She read again. “This is to fire as wet is to rain, do this to the sign and you can remain.”
Her eyes flickered to the lantern on the post, hanging by a nail. The soft light glowed feebly in the dim gloom closing around her. She realized how much of a fool she had been. The answer lay before her the entire time.
Sighing, she reached out with her essence. Fueled either by her growing command or her internal turmoil, the flame flickered and responded to her call with ease. With finite control, she pulled the flame out of the glassless lantern and directed the spark upward. The sign burst into brilliant flames, a luminous homing beacon in the deepening twilight.
“What now?” Julie inquired, the question directed at Judas. When he didn’t answer, she looked behind her to find the area devoid of life.
He left you again, the voice assured her. Your next task awaits.
“I thought this was my test?” She realized that she was talking to herself. Hearing voices respond was the first portent of insanity, and she shook her head, chasing the voice away. The fact that she answered the voice didn’t sit well with her, but she preferred the option to being alone, or ignoring an incessant voice. A comfort settled over her as the voice peddled its trivia. But did she want to hear the information? How truthful was the voice? Did the voice hold back like Judas?
How many tests do you have in a day? she wondered.
As many as necessary, the voice replied casually.
An eccentric feeling rippled through her. The voice came from within. She puzzled, hesitated, wondering if she gave life to her fears or if an outside force attempted–and succeeded–in break
ing through. Was she under someone else’s influence?
She doubted it came from some invisible entity, like some spirit or ghost keeping her company. This voice originated solely in her head, privy to her thoughts, and responded to them at will. No creature that she knew could read thoughts, but she didn’t know everything about Ermaeyth. She didn’t feel a presence other than the Corridor, which bothered her. Since entering, she felt eyes watching her, waiting, observing. The voice was different. The voice came without a presence. Did the voice exist at all?
Ermaeyth isn’t the world where you once lived, child, the voice continued, almost sneering.
Julie rolled her eyes and waited.
Brace yourself. You’re in for a real treat! the voice promised darkly, sounding gleeful. A hint of malice flickered beneath the sarcasm. The voice–had it not been so malicious–she could have mistaken for her own sarcastic voice.
They’re not what you think they are.
“What does that mean?” A rustle of wind drew her attention towards the air. Watchful eyes fell upon her, but she couldn’t see anything amiss. The Corridor drew a deep breath and waited.
A large humanoid creature with grotesque features swooped down upon her, a dive-bombing with blinding speed. She screamed and lunged out of the way. The tall creature landed where she once stood.
Animalistic form morphed into a man as elongated fangs retracted, pointed cheeks smoothed, deep eyes filled. No matter how much it tried to pass for normal, the close resemblance to the beast still prevailed. Nothing beautiful or graceful endured through either visage. She knew what stood before her: a vampire. Its eyes burned with hunger and its gaze pierced her, a succulent morsel to devour but in what manner, she didn’t want to guess. His sallow skin and haunted, gaunt face with dark bags under his eyes leered at her. His limbs were long and spindly with a paralyzing countenance, trapping her with his gaze.
Her heart fluttered in her chest, a vague recollection of what vampires were and supposed vulnerabilities came to mind. The image she once associated with vampires erased, blurred, faded. Her initial image, though disturbing, surrendered to the sickly and terrifying creature before her. The thought of becoming diseased from the sallow wight murmured its disquiet, her chest tightening. She wished the voice would speak, help her, but it waited with clutching breath to see what would transpire.