“Yeah, tell me what I need to know.”
“Okay,” Alfred sighed. “He’s the Key Holder.”
“You mean like the boss?”
“I don’t understand the reference. But in his brain is a crystal. It’s fairly fragile. But if you crush it you remove his ownership of the area.”
“Where in his brain?”
“Somewhere in the center of his skull. I’m not exactly sure.”
“What happens when he doesn’t own the area anymore?”
“You own it. And it’ll be safe at all times.”
“The whole city?”
“No,” Alfred shook his head earnestly. “Just the streets. Each building will have its own Key Holder.”
“Shit,” I said, my voice trailing off. “I have to do this for each building?”
“Yes,” Alfred said.
“If this thing kills me?” I asked.
“You become his minion until you’re killed.”
“By Aunt Edna’s taint,” I said and put Alfred down. Alfred was still standing there on the rooftop, watching everything.
I dropped down and held my spear ready. I had no idea how to fight with a spear. I figured it would be best to use it to keep them away from me. I held the spear sideways, my left hand over the bottom edge, my right a bit farther down. Most if it extended out but I could move it and swing it fairly quickly.
The thing laughed. It was a rattled throat laugh, as if he had too much phlegm and couldn’t get rid of it. He pulled out his sword, a hand and a half sword with a straight blade but a single edge ending in a point, like a giant knife, with a small round hilt similar to Japanese swords, but unlike samurai swords the handle ended in a round pommel made of a green stone.
The fast ones charged. I swung my spear and slashed across two of their faces and impaled the third. But the spear was useless after that. It was too long for this. Two of them were on me. I grabbed one and threw him, the other I slammed my fist into its face and the thing fell, its jaw crushed. I pulled an axe, as it was quicker than anything, and began slamming it into heads as they came near me. Before I realized it, they were gone. I had eliminated them and wasn’t bit or hurt in any way.
“Holy gobsmacker,” I whispered in an exhale. I drew the sword and stood, axe in one hand, sword in the other, having no idea what the hell I was doing.
The thing dropped and ran, the blade carried behind it, in a stance like I’ve seen in Anime fight scenes. I ran to him, then stepped to the side, so I could crash into the damned thing, nothing but bones it seemed, and I swung, axe first, followed with my sword, aimed at its sword.
Metal met metal. My blade’s edge caught the blade edge of the horrid thing’s sword and it cut into the metal of my sword while his blade was undamaged. My brain had a realization moment. His sword would cut through my blade. Turn the blade flat, don’t hit it edge on edge.
The thing spun, extending one arm wide. I watched it, wondering what the hell, but it spun fast. I held out my sword, turning it flat so its edge caught the flat of my blade, and I hit it in the back with my axe, driving is into the spine.
Metal clanged against metal again, and the force of the blow landing against the flattened blade of my sword moved it, slapping the flat against my helmet as its blade continued on and scrapped over the top of my head, guided by my sword as the beast finished its crazy spin.
That’s when I saw it. The locket it wore. Raevyn wore that locket, it was her grandmother’s. I was stunned, as if slapped in the face and it stole my breath with the image, the thought, Raevyn. How did that thing get that locket? Raevyn. Tears welled up inside me, slamming me with a pile driver of emotional force. It switched instantly to rage, clarity filled rage the likes I’ve never felt before. It made my stomach burn with ice-fire and my limbs went light and tingled.
The grinning horror continued a spin, shifting the weapon and turning it to thrust right through my belly. It was moving slower, I could see it, see the arc of its move, the movement of the thing’s sword.
I brought my sword up and tried to cut it down. But my sword bent and then broke at the cut. In its demise my sword did move that thing’s sword from its intended target and the thrust missed, passing next to me, under my arm. I closed my arm and brought my axe down, locking the blade. I dropped my sword and punched it in its face.
“How!” I punched it again.
“Did you,” punch.
“Get,” punch.
“That,” punch.
“Locket!” punch.
It began giggling. And I hit it again, and again, I pounded its face until parts of it were falling off while it kept giggling at me.
“Where!” I screamed. I was gone. But I could see myself, and I could see the rest of its minions coming back. I grabbed the locket from its neck, breaking the chain and ripping it off. I took its sword and I cleaved its head in two. Then I fell onto the thing’s scraggly body and began digging in its black gooey brain matter.
The guants were on me. They were biting at my armor, pulling at me, digging at me with their claws. I didn’t care. I was Urto and I was Rage and I was crushing this monster’s soul by squeezing the putrid gooey mass of its brains until it was liquid. I drove my fists into its skull, pulling out deep heavy fistfuls of fetid brain matter, squeezing as hard as I could while I screamed incoherently spewing spittle over the undead hands that tried to claw at my face and pull me off.
My hand found the crystal. I crushed it in my fist.
I don’t think anyone has ever felt the force of light before. It erupted in my hand and flashed out, with such intensity that I was momentarily blinded. When I opened my eyes and could see again, everything was different. The street was clean, the bodies were all gone. I was still on my knees but there were no longer any guants. I held the green sword in my hand, and the locket in my other. A stack of cards were scattered about.
I opened the locket and I saw Raevyn’s face. It was the picture of her from our wedding. One of my favorite pictures of her. This thing, or whoever planted it here, did this on purpose. It chose this locket and this picture. To what? To torture me? I fell over as heaving sobs took me. I fought them back, I couldn’t have them make me useless just then, not yet.
“Raevyn,” I said, holding her picture to my forehead. “I need you.” I breathed, and struggled to force back tears of fear, of regret, of loss. “I miss you.” I closed the locket and stood.
I screamed into the sky. A rage scream fueled by loss, a scream that I felt could manifest physical power. I collected everything and returned to the boat house. I climbed up and tossed all my gear down. Alfred was last. He didn’t say a word. He just stood there, waiting for me to speak.
I took the gaunt man’s sword, placed the locket down next to Alfred’s hockey puck. I stood and stared at it.
“Next,” I said. I was trying to hold it together. “I need to know how that thing got this. Where is next? What will help me learn?”
“The scholar’s,” Alfred said. “Once cleared I will have access to every book in it. Right now, it is hidden from me.”
“Where?”
“Behind the buildings, on the back side of the city, up a flight of stairs to a tower. You can see the top of it from here,” he said, pointing.
I saw it, and I headed to the back of the buildings, to an alley crowded with buildings all stacked close together. I reached the stairs and mounted them. I held the sword out right before the door. I was going to kill whatever was in there with their own sword.
I opened the door. I saw cobwebs, large and heavy. I cut them away until I could enter. I walked in, holding the sword with two hands, the blade straight up, like I’d seen done in the samurai movies. My wits were returning, and I was realizing that it probably wasn’t the best idea to just charge in.
Something caught my blade and I looked up. It was a huge spider, and by huge, I mean it was a large as a pig that had been fattened up for slaughter, with extra super long legs tossed in. It had touch
ed my blade with its legs to move it out of the way so it could drop on me and not impale itself. But I shoved upward, hard, instead, driving it deep into the spider’s body.
“Spiders?” I yelled. “You think I’m afraid of spiders?” I stepped into the room and more of them scampered out. I cut them down, all of them. A web would shoot out and hit me and I’d cut it down and then chase the spider down that shot it. They were all over the place. I heard fangs scrape against my metal helmet and sink into the cloth of my coat only to be stopped by the metal plates. Each one I’d slice with the sword and it would glide through like the spider was butter.
I thought I was doing well and was increasingly becoming cockier as I progressed. I was moving and killing randomly, killing them all, clearing out what I could. Then, I felt fangs in my right upper arm. They went through the cloth and then the metal and then through my arm. I turned my head and saw its face. It was huge, the size of a minivan, and it descended from the ceiling just to eat me.
The sword was in my right hand, and I couldn’t move my arm. I pulled a hand axe and began pounding the giant spider in the face, slicing open eye after eye until it withdrew its fangs and then retreated back up its drop line. I threw my axe and embedded it deep into its face. I pulled another and repeated it, sinking another axe deeply into its eyes.
The thing screamed and spit at me, a stream of green viscous fluid. I jumped out of the way and it sizzled and burned the floor. I took the sword with my left hand and began racing up the spiral staircase that ran against the wall of the tower, every wall space was a bookshelf and all of them were crammed with books.
My wife and I loved places like this. Raevyn’s dream was a giant library, just like the one we have back in the manor. But this scholar’s tower, was something that I think would speak to her soul. I admit, I found it enticing as well, the urge to touch the books, to smell them, to feel their age. It kept threating to distract me, but I controlled it. I could feel the venom in my right arm, and I saw the giant beast, with my axes in its eyes, climbing its guide web. I kept my eyes on it as I raced up the stairs, my sword held ready.
Spiders would come out at me, they’d jump on me or try to startle me, and I’d slice through them, or stab them until they vanished. I wasn’t deterred, I wasn’t slowed. If this giant spider had any emotions it should feel fear.
Then it stopped, and it held there, in mid-air. I couldn’t reach it and it knew it. It just stopped, waiting for its venom to work. Since this was a spider I suspected I wouldn’t become a spider if it killed me here. But that wasn’t the point. I wasn’t going to let it kill me. I looked it right it its few good working eyes. Staring it down. I could swear it was laughing at me.
“Oh, you think this is funny?” I yelled at the giant spider. “You think I’m afraid of you and your little spidershits?” I backed up, I ran, and then I leaped. I think I saw surprise on that inhuman face, as I drove the blade through its skull.
The giant spider quivered. I wrapped my legs around what I could, grabbed as best I could with my right arm, and let go of my sword. With my left hand I drove it into the head of the spider and began trying to find the crystal. It screamed and wriggled and spun trying to get me off it. But I held tight and kept digging, shoving my hand in again and again. Finally, my fingers touched the crystal.
I think the spider was done at that point. It just let go and we fell. I don’t know if it was a last-ditch effort to kill me and save itself, or a last act of defiance, but I squeezed that crystal with my fist still inside the beast’s head and crushed the crystal before we hit the floor.
Hitting the floor wasn’t nice or easy. I felt bones break. My right arm, the one with poison in it, broke. I felt ribs break. But that flash of energy, of light, the same that happened outside coursed through the scholar’s tower and it was clean as I tried to push myself up.
I was hurt, hurt pretty bad. This was real hurt, a different kind of hurt. It wasn’t the undead hurt I had before. It felt different. I know this may sound pretty messed up, but that felt better. Even so, the venom was still in my arm, and spreading through me. But I felt like I had time. I collected the cards that had collected on the floor, picked up my new sword, and dragged myself back to Alfred.
“Oh my,” he said when he saw me, not waiting for me to say anything.
“Yeah,” I whispered. Talking caused sharp pains to spike through my chest. I collected what I could, worked the ferry back and rode back to the shrine. I could feel the venom working, slowly stopping my brain, slowly making it hard to move, hard to breath. Either that or the blood filling my lungs from my broken ribs were drowning me. I wasn’t sure which.
————
I woke up in the pod. It was odd. Not as long I guessed. I didn’t feel like I generally did, not as rested, just relieved and relaxed.
“How long,” I asked as I climbed out.
“Just over an hour,” Alfred said.
“Huh,” I grunted. “Why was this different?”
“Damage and poison were easy to heal,” the Oracle’s voice whispered.
I nodded, climbed out the pod, grabbed Alfred and the rest of the stuff I dropped and headed outside. I rode back to the city, quietly. I left Alfred out and he just stood there. Something was different. Something with me. I was beyond the old man stories of my football days. I was beyond growing up with my grandpa, my messed up extended family, working on the fishing boat. I was beyond just wanting to make a safe home for my family. I couldn’t grasp it, but something inside me had changed, something ancient and primal was waking. Something familiar, something locked in a cage long go, and somehow, I had just found the key to set it free. But there were more cages, beyond the first that I was just barely aware of and they were waiting their turn to be unlocked.
I wandered the street, picking up what I left. I had left a lot. The bulk of the guants had cards that only called their death. The stacks of cards they created was huge. Standing there, staring at the massive deck of cards, I was taken aback by just how huge it was, just how many of them there were.
Alfred and I made our way to the scholar’s tower and explored it bit. I had missed a lot there. While I sat Alfred down, his face a beam with excitement, I looked over all the books. I found one, The Realm, a huge coffee table style book and I grabbed it.
I packed up everything into the ferry, then made my way back to the other side and loaded everything, including the rowboat, into the wagon. I sat down, placing Alfred next to me on the bench seat, pulled out a cigar, snipped and lit it. I sat there in the bench of the wagon, looking past Marble standing there calmly waiting for the word to move, and just started at the medieval city across the river. Twice now I had been hurt worse than I ever had in my life. I turned the wagon and slowly made my way back to the manor house. Once in front I just climbed out of the wagon, grabbed the sword and started walking.
I walked the fields, something I hadn’t touched in a few days. Even when it was easy it seemed I wasn’t farmer material. I walked through the furrowed fields and just hiked. I walked until the fields ended and the forest began. My mind was done, too much, everything was too much, and so I walked more. The sun was already setting but I didn’t really care that much. I had just fought zombies, something that was impossible, and I fought giant spiders, something else that was impossible. I needed to kill everything to bring my kids to me. It was overwhelming. I needed Raevyn. I needed my rock to keep me stable.
It was not quite pitch black in the thick woods. There was enough moonlight and my eyes had adjusted fully to the dark so that I could see fairly well. I’m not sure how long I had been walking when I came to a road. I could see a bridge to my left, with a small house at the bridge. I walked to it, slowly as there were no lights coming from it.
Feeling the need to be careful, I took stock. I had two throwing axes in my belt, the seax in its knife sheath, and the green sword, in its wooden scabbard, in my hand. I had been wearing it, but the damn thing caught and snagged
on damn near everything in the woods. I had no idea if this small house was like anything in the village or not. Or if this small bridge over this river created some boundary to my lands.
I walked to the house. It wasn’t locked, the door had a pull rope through a hole. I tugged it and the door swung open. It was a simple one room house. The door was held by nothing other than a wooden board tied to the rope.
I entered carefully, having to duck as the ceiling was only about six feet from the floor. There was a fireplace with a small cast iron pot-bellied cauldron hanging in it, a table, a chair, and a bed. I checked under the bed and nothing here. I closed the door and pulled out my cigar lighter. There was some wood near the fireplace and small mixed pile of peat and coal. I started a fire and let it burn.
With the light dancing across the room I realized I was hungry and had gotten a bit cold. I opened the shutters and looked out. One side looked across the river, the other the direction I had come from, a good full view of the road. There was no glass, just the open square that the shutters closed off. There was a shelf affixed to the wall that had a meal place setting, plate, bowl, spoon and fork, a tankard, and a stack of cards next to a what looked like wooden shoebox with a long strap attached to it.
I took the box down and opened the lid. It originally looked like it was simply a box. But something was odd about it. The seams appeared to be melded, as if the box was formed from a single piece of wood. I guessed it was a travelling foodbox, small enough for me to carry over my shoulder using the strap. I sat at the table and shuffled through the cards. Basic vegetables, some fish, some game birds. I took one of the cards, one with small round potatoes that were called Dore, and placed it into the box. I closed the lid and then opened it. And in the box were about a dozen of them.
I went to the fireplace and reached for the caldron. It was hot, and I burned my fingers a bit because I was stupid in trying to touch it. I used the handle of my axe to pull the pot off. I used my shirt to help me open the lid. It was empty and looked fairly clean. I sat it down on the table, made sure it wouldn’t burn, and then opened the door.
Awakenings Page 2