The Five Elements

by Scott Marlowe

  Ensel Rhe stopped only when the sitheri's struggles became nothing more than a twitch. Pushing himself away, his breath heaving, he rose, finding himself face-to-face with the Lord of Vengeance. This close, the demon's stench, which was not unlike the hounds he commanded, was near overwhelming. Ensel Rhe wondered if he need defend himself, but the houndmaster made no move toward him. He simply stood there, his great sword held point downward before him with one hand resting on the pommel while the other held Ensel Rhe's khatesh by the blade. With a quick motion, he threw the sword so that it landed point first in the ground directly before the eslar. Ensel Rhe reached out, wrapped his fingers around the hilt, and lifted his sword. The houndmaster did not move as Ensel Rhe turned to the fallen sitheri.

  The snakeman, trying to slither away, had managed only to turn onto its stomach and crawl but a few feet before the effort became too much. With the toe of his boot, Ensel Rhe flipped him over. He said nothing as he drove the point of his sword into its chest. A hiss escaped the snakeman's lips, then faded and was no more. Ensel Rhe's grip on his sword faltered, and with the blade still protruding from the thing that had murdered and mutilated his son, he stumbled back.

  Krosus was there waiting.

  The houndmaster had not moved at all, though now he returned his sword to the sheath at his belt. The red hot coals that were his eyes flared as the mist seemed to move to envelope him, for Ensel Rhe was sure the houndmaster had not stepped back. In moments, the fog had consumed him, and then he was gone.

  Ensel Rhe took several long breaths, then he found the place where the sitheri had dropped his son's scalp. He sank to the ground there, not moving for a long time.

  * * *

  Shanna reached into the Reliquary of the Elements, the place where long ago the Four Elements had been forged, gathering the Elements' combined might and Joining it with herself. The result was a rush of raw, violent energy that she focused precisely at the druids. They met her attack with like energy. It was only then, in that instant, that she realized their power, for each of them commanded the Fifth Element as well. Her attacking surge was met by an equal amount of energy. More, because there were eleven of them and only one of her. They moved to surround her, ignoring the girl whom Shanna now released, for she needed to concentrate all of her will on her immediate adversaries. The druids likewise paid Aaron no heed. If what Aaron had said was true, if the druids had wanted to kill him only because they'd thought him a descendant of Tarn Galangaul, then they'd have no further interest in him at all. The person they wanted dead was right before them. She was the last. Erlek's boy and Erlek himself were gone now. Her death would at last free them of their lifelong mission of seeing an end to the factious rebellion of elementalists.

  They meant to reach that end quickly as they completed their encirclement of her. Raw energy, hot and white, boiled from their persons and shot out in billowing clouds that pounded against Shanna's own radiance. She pushed back, succeeding in one direction, but losing ground in another. She turned, compensating, regaining the advantage there but immediately losing it elsewhere. She couldn't let the substance of their attack touch her. She'd seen the effect of her own power when Ellingrel's apprentices had come to stop her. Dark smudges were all that remained of them. But neither could she keep this up forever. There were too many of them, their power too great. Shanna thought of the elementalists all those years ago trying to fight against such power. Those people had been her ancestors and the druids had robbed them of their lives and of their destiny. By what right had the druids done those things? By what right did they try to do the same to her? Anger, ever her well of strength, rose up to bolster her resolve. Though the druids leveled their might against her from every direction, she held them at bay. Even began to push them back. She saw the disbelief in their faces: shock in some, outrage in others, that she—a descendant of a traitor and so new to the power that was the Fifth Element—should defy them so. Their reactions fueled Shanna's will even more. She smiled to see them quake in fear for they knew they'd met their match. One druid, a man with a pointed nose and arched brow, paused to gather his strength, condensing his power into a surging outburst he meant to release in the next instant. He was not given the chance. Shanna saw the slackening of his will and pounced upon it, concentrating her energy against that weak point in their circle. Her power burst through, engulfing the druid in one instant and, in the next, expunging him from the world so that only a blackened spot remained where he'd stood. Those to his left and right closed the gap, but it was with trepidation now. Five hundred years ago, they were masters of the earth. No longer. For while their power had waned, the bloodline of Tarn Galangaul had remained constant and strong.

  Aaron was right about them. Shanna saw that now. She looked deep into them and at their connection to the earth and she saw how tenuous that connection had become. It was a strand, thin and frail, still present only because of the potions and elixirs they imbued. It was a mockery, both of what they had been and what they were. They had been gods, with power enough to rule all of Uhl. Now, they were pedestrian, weak, not fit to command or rule anything. Least of all, they had no business standing against her. She would show them what they had lost. She would make them see what might have been had they only embraced their destiny as she had hers. Shanna turned her gaze on one of the women, a bony stick whose lips were drawn back as she snarled in defiance. Shanna reached out, then she twisted her open palm into a fist. Earth energy encompassed the woman and snuffed her from existence. Shanna looked to the heavens and laughed in exultation. She was everything they should have been. She was the goddess the earth had been seeking for five hundred years.

  The druids closed their ranks, maintaining their attack, though as Shanna stopped her laughter and returned her attention to them she saw the abject fear in them. They stayed their course because it had been their mission for so long. Shanna saw the look in their eyes and knew that some would turn and run away if given the chance. No such chance would be offered. They might stop their attack, fling their arms in the air in surrender, plea for their lives. None of it would matter. They'd come to kill her. Instead, she would kill them. Shanna turned her attention to the next druid. Poof! He vanished in a spray of blood and guts. She looked at the next, and the next, and the next, having no intention of stopping until every one of them was made to pay for their defiance.

  * * *

  Aaron was almost finished making adjustments to the re-attunement engine when Shanna slew the first of the druids.

  "Look!" Serena shouted. The moment the confrontation had started, she'd run to join Aaron.

  Aaron, busy, looked over one shoulder, but by that time there was nothing to see but a gap in the circle the druids had formed around Shanna. But then Shanna killed the next one. The act gave Aaron pause. Not because he was horrified at witnessing the druid's death or by the manner by which the woman had been dispatched—in truth, both unsettled him—but because Shanna should not have been able to do that. Not once, and certainly not twice. She commanded great power, but so did the druids. Joined as they were, their power should have been more than a match for Shanna. It was a simple matter of energy summation. Unless that power, even summed, was inadequate.

  While Aaron went through his rationalizations, Shanna slew another. One moment the druid was there, fighting for his life. The next, nothing. She did it with such efficiency, with such swiftness, Aaron wondered if she stopped even for a second to think about the lives she was ending. She was fighting for her life, Aaron reminded himself. The druids had come to kill her. They'd brought this on themselves. Didn't they deserve it?

  Another druid fell.

  Perhaps, or perhaps not. Aaron was glad he wasn’t the one to decide. Still, he wondered what well of resolve Shanna drew from that she could dispatch one druid after another with so little pause. Had this been what it was like when she'd killed Rufia and the other apprentices? Aaron saw the look of terror on some of the druids' faces as they realized they wer
e doomed. They did not attempt to surrender, though, or retreat. Would Shanna let them do either?

  Then Serena was there, blocking his view. She'd been talking, though Aaron hadn't heard a word of what she'd said. Now, with her face right in his line of sight, he could no longer ignore her. "She's enjoying it, Aaron!"

  Aaron met Serena's gaze for one moment. No, she wasn't, he thought, though he did not give voice to his words. Then he turned away and went back to his calibrating. He didn't watch Serena as, incredulous, she jumped down from the machine, circled it, then positioned herself upon a support that put her square in his way.

  "You can't make her into one of them," she said. "As long as she's tethered to the Elements, she has a weakness. Make her a druid and they'll be no stopping her."

  Aaron almost tried to get around her, to finish his work, but he stayed where he was, taking in Serena's stare. She'd gotten over her fright. She'd found a way to shake it off, to bury it deep within where it could no longer rule her. She wasn't the only one.

  Aaron took in a deep breath. Then, with a steady voice, he said, "If I don't do this, she'll kill you."

  "If you do this, she'll probably kill both of us."

  Aaron said nothing to that. He looked towards the battle. Only a handful of druids remained. One was on his knees, surrendering, his hands clasped before his face in a sign of mercy. Shanna gave him none. When she was done with that one, she turned her power on the next. Only moments longer and they'd all be gone. Five hundred years of scheming and planning, undone in a matter of minutes.

  Aaron jumped down from his perch. He followed the line of a tubule with his finger, stopping when he reached a manifold topped with levers. One-by-one, he made slight adjustments in their positioning. Serena followed, intent on making Aaron listen to reason when instead he cut her off.

  "I need you to do one last favor for me, Serena," Aaron said. "I need you to get away. Start running. Don't look back. Get away, now, before it's too late."

  Serena's face twisted in confusion.

  "Find Master Rhe. Make sure both of you are clear of this place. He won't say anything, but we're both grateful for what you did at Wildemoore. I know it must not have been easy, going against your master like you did."

  Serena's expression grew no less quizzical, though it was lined with suspicion now. "Aaron, what are you—"

  "Aaron!"

  It was Shanna, done with the druids now.

  Aaron tried to smile at Serena, but his lips fell short of conveying the full expression. "I'm going to help my friend." Then he started walking around the machine so he could face Shanna uninhibited. Aaron half-expected Serena to try tackling him, but she stayed where she was, frozen either with disbelief or confusion. Perhaps both. He hoped she would do as he asked.

  Aaron approached Shanna from the control-side of the machine. She stood close enough now that Aaron had only to take a few steps past the levers and dials to properly address her. She looked… sickly. Exhausted. Pale and sunken-eyed. One hand hung limply at her side. The other was clutched at her gut where her shirt was stained crimson. Her hair had blown across her face. As if no longer possessed of the strength to brush it aside, she left it where it lay.

  "Are you finished?" she asked. Her voice was hoarse, her body faltering. Yet the tone of her words remained as strong as ever.

  "Yes, I'm finished," Aaron said. "I just need to turn it on and—"

  "Don't bother."

  Aaron narrowed his brow in confusion. "But don't you—"

  "No. Not anymore."

  "But why not?" Aaron felt he knew the answer to that question already, but it was the only thing he could think to say.

  "Didn't you see what I just did?"

  "Yes, I saw."

  "The druids are gone." Such a simple statement, but there was too much satisfaction in the words, too much conviction. "Whatever Erlek had planned, whatever he'd wanted to do, it doesn't matter now. He was weak. Maybe he needed a machine to give him strength, but I don't." Then she turned away and started walking to the radiating depression.

  "Shanna, wait," Aaron said, not loud, but with enough voice that he knew Shanna heard him. She didn't stop, nor even offer a look over her shoulder. "Shanna!" Shouted this time, it caused her to stop, turn, and face him.

  "What?" The single word was dismissive, as if she only humored him by asking it.

  "Remember what you asked me on the top of Graggly's Tower, before all of this happened?"

  Shanna said nothing at first. Perhaps she was thinking. Perhaps the question was only unexpected. When it looked as if she wasn't going to say anything at all, Aaron answered for her.

  "You asked me if we'd always be friends."

  "I remember," she said.

  "I didn't get a chance to answer. Not really. What I wanted to say was that, yes, we'll always be friends. No matter what. I mean it, too."

  Her expression became one of conciliation. She shifted her weight, leaning in that way she always did. Suddenly, she was the Shanna of old again. "I know, Aaron. You were always my best friend."

  "You were mine, too." Aaron held her gaze for a moment, drinking in those dark eyes, then he let his gaze fall to the ground. He could leave it at that. A simple recognition of what each meant to the other. It would be a good memory, one he could look back on for years. He only had to say nothing else and leave the exchange where it was. But he couldn't do that. "Because we're friends, Shanna, I'm going to say this one last time. Stop this. Throw the Elements into…" Aaron made a show of looking for a place. He threw up his arms in resignation. "Throw them into the ocean!" It was as good a place as any. "It's not too late. We can walk away from this. The both of us. I know things will never be the same, but we can at least try."

  Shanna's shoulders rose and fell in a great sigh. "Aaron, I already told you. This is where I belong now, doing exactly what I'm doing. I'm not walking away from anything."

  Aaron took a breath, then let it out slowly. "Then I have to stop you, Shanna. I'm sorry, but I have to."

  The familiarity in her expression melted into one of annoyance. "Aaron, you can't stop me. You saw what I did to the druids. You know what I did to the others. How do you think you're going to stop me? You can't. Now just go away or—"

  "Or what? You'll kill me, too?"

  "I don't want to. But…" She paused, shaking her head, obviously torn. With not much more effort, though, she made up her mind. It was not the course of action Aaron expected. "I don't have to. You can't do anything to stop me, Aaron. You're not a sorcerer or a druid. You're not even a wizard's apprentice. I know that now. You, you're nothing more than a… a lab assistant! And it looks like you don't even have your funny lab coat with all of your alchemicals." The radiance shining from the depression behind Shanna gleamed brighter and Shanna, who rose to her full height now, still short of Aaron's but still seeming taller and absolutely more powerful, flashed Aaron a stare of such menace, framed by such pale, deadly beauty, that Aaron took an involuntary step back. "Now, go away, Aaron. I'm not going to ask you again."

  Aaron kept retreating. Shanna, pleased with his reaction, crossed her arms and smirked, probably thinking his staggering, backward trend was a precursor to his turning and bolting. But Aaron only wanted to get closer to the machine's controls. He put one hand to the main lever, gripped it tight, and just as Shanna narrowed her gaze at him, wondering what he was up to, he yanked down hard, pulling the lever so that the alchemical engine was activated. The effect, much to Aaron's dismay, was not immediate. There was a buzz, followed by the squeaky turning of shafts, cogs, and gears. A visible vibration coursed through the metal of the thing and a spray of alchemicals, priming the ignition cylinders, hissed. Aaron risked a glance at the control dials, noting pressure, flow, temperature. Everything looked as expected. The machine needed only an input source of energy now.

  "What are you doing?" Shanna asked. "Why did you turn that thing on?"

  Aaron said nothing. There was nothing left to say.<
br />
  "Aaron! Answer me!"

  The Shanna he'd known had never spoken to him like that, nor had she such a temper.

  "Answer me now or I'll destroy the machine and you with it!"

  Never would have threatened him.

  "Fine! Just remember. You did this to yourself!"

  No. You did this, Shanna.

  The Elements' emanation flowed from the Reliquary as a raging river of energy. Shanna's presence split it in two, but it reformed once past her so that she stood as if a rock amidst a rapids. Aaron, his mind tricking him into thinking this preternatural energy was a force that would stagger him backward and not disintegrate him on contact, grabbed onto the frame of the machine with both hands. He'd barely closed his eyes when the raging flow engulfed him.

  * * *

  Shanna didn't hold anything back now.

  She'd given Aaron his chance to leave and he'd not taken it. Aaron was smart, sensible. He knew the power she possessed and that, if provoked, she would use it. As the energy rose up from the Reliquary of the Elements and swept past her, she told herself Aaron's death was not her fault. It was his fault, for making her do this. For not leaving when she'd asked him to over and over again. This was not her fault. She repeated the words, mouthing them, even as the rush of power engulfed the machine and Aaron with it.