by Heath Pfaff
We watched in silence together for a time, the dark seeming oppressive on that quiet night. I didn’t like the pressure it seemed to put on my shoulders and chest. It was stifling. My eyes strained to find motion and instead chased phantoms created by their inability to make out details in the muted light. Arthos shifted and turned his ear towards the valley, a strange expression on his face. I went absolutely still and mimicked him. Had he heard something? I tried to block out the sounds of the woods and focus on anything out of the ordinary, but I couldn’t make out anything.
“I thought I . . . “ Arthos started to say quietly, and then it began.
The chattering whisper of voices, quiet, barely audible as though carried on the wind. We both drew our weapons quickly. I struggled to make out what they were saying. I soon realized it was impossible. It wasn’t just one or two voices, but an entire wall of voices, all speaking at once.
Why’d she do that . . . boiled him alive . . . the boys were torturing one of the herd . . . skinned her . . . what’s happening . . . the gods have forsaken us . . . send for help . . . the Wardens . . . gods, he ate her face . . . help . . . couldn’t leave . . . we can’t leave . . . help us . . .
The cacophony of whispers began to change, the tones darker, more pleading, and then it wasn’t just whispers. There were screams so loud they echoed all around, and the wind seemed to whip up, stirring the trees nearby. It all crescendoed into a wailing that had me down on my knees clutching my ears.
The well . . . to the well . . . go to the well . . . only way out.
It all stopped then. The world went quiet, the trees were still. I uncovered my ears and looked over at Arthos. I thought he seemed even paler than normal, but I couldn’t be certain. I was still trying to gather myself. Ghosts? Had that been spirits? I hadn’t believed in such things, but that had sounded like the people of the town. It had felt like a glimpse into whatever darkness had befallen this place.
“What was that?” I asked, not really certain Arthos could answer at all, but needing to hear a voice that wasn’t some echo of horror, even if it was just my own.
“I don’t know.” Arthos replied. “But I don’t think we should investigate the village any further tomorrow. This is a problem beyond us. The Wardens need to call in those with more knowledge of these kind of events, maybe those who study the black liquid and know what it is. If I had to guess, and this is just a guess, the people in town ingested the black liquid in their water supply and it drove them mad as a group. Their madness must have coalesced into an echo of powerful, unified Will. It’s clinging to this place now.”
“That . . . can any of that happen?” I asked, as it didn't sound reasonable to me. I’d never heard anything like that. Also, Will was an individual power. It didn't join with other Will. That was against the basic tenants.
Arthos just shrugged. “I don’t know, Lilln. I’ve never seen anything like this before. I’m just . . . trying to piece together what we just encountered and what we’ve seen. The people in the village went mad, slowly at first, and then it got worse. They thought they were sending for help, but help never came, and then they eventually lost it entirely and threw themselves down the well.” That didn't explain the blood. It didn’t explain the wave of darkness flowing from the village. Arthos’ “explanation” wasn’t really an explanation at all.
It was quiet after that. Eventually Arthos laid down and slept for a few hours, but he was up well before the dawn, and then we both watched the small village together. Nothing else happened that night, but neither of us felt particularly good about things as we made our way back down into the valley in the morning after Arthos put out another message on the stone. It was about a half an hour later, as we were finishing up the search of a barn that Arthos stopped in place and reached down to his pouch.
As he pulled the stone from his belt I could feel small pulses of Will emanating from it. Someone had responded finally. I actually let out a sigh of relief. I hadn’t realized just how tense I was, though I still felt tightly wound as I waited for Arthos to translate the message.
“They’re saying they didn’t get our message yesterday at all.” He said after a bit. “We’ve been instructed to finish our pass around the village, report our findings, and move on.”
I frowned. “Will they tell us what they find here? I don’t like the idea of leaving this the way it is. It bothers me.”
“We can ask at some point, but I doubt they’ll bother to tell us anything. Once it has been decided that it isn’t a task for us, our part in this is finished.” He answered, which wasn’t really the reply I’d hoped for.
We finished scanning the edges of town, investigating the buildings, and then made our way back to the center for one last look at the well. We again lit a fire and tossed a burning brand down into the well below, but this time the wood fell and then splashed down into water, hissing and going out almost immediately.
We tossed a few more, but each time it was the same. The black mess at the bottom of the well was gone. The area around it was still painted dull red, the village was still empty and void of any signs of life, but the blackness had fled.
“I’d think we’d gone insane if it wasn't for the dried blood everywhere.” Arthos said, stone in hand as he finished sending an update message. “The place feels different too, less oppressive. It’s like what happened yesterday is just gone.”
I nodded. I felt it too. The day before it had seemed as though there were constantly eyes on my back, but today the place just felt deserted. It also had a strange melancholy to it, like a place from history that still bore the burden of the tragedies that had occurred there and I wondered if it would hold that sense of sadness indefinitely. The mystery was gone, though. We could investigate as long as we wanted and I knew we’d never uncover anymore. The truth had fled with the black sludge.
“It was that stuff in the well.” I said, wanting to make sure that Arthos knew where I stood on the matter one final time.
He looked at me for a moment, but then nodded his agreement. “Yes, I would tend to agree. I still don't understand it, though. It makes me want to check with the scholars back in the city, but this isn’t our task. We’re all set to move on now. Our investigation into whatever this was is done.”
I wasn’t happy about the way it had ended, but I also knew the answers were gone. “Where do we go next? This village was supposed to be our first stop and encounter with people beyond the well. Won’t I be missing more training since no one is here?”
“Generally we just have you complete some menial tasks for the people, things that are difficult for them, but easier for us . . . killing a bear that is too aggressive, running out a pack of wolves, shifting the flow of a river. It’s supposed to teach you that your Will can make things easy for you that others would consider hard or impossible while also giving you the experience of working to help others. Wardens serve the people second only to our service to the King. I suppose we’ll just move on and find another place to teach you those lessons.” Arthos was walking back towards where we’d left the kea.
“I barely know how to use my Will.” I pointed out.
“That’s what we’ll work on while we travel. I’ll teach you the code and how to use the stones as well. You might need to know that eventually. You’ll train as we go. It’s another three days to the next inhabited stop. That one is a town and not just a village, and then it’s only another two days to the first city beyond the wall.” He explained, and it seemed strange to be talking about all of these things existing beyond the place where I’d spent my entire life. I’d known it was out there, beyond the wall, but I’d never really thought much about what it meant to exist beyond Black Mark.
“It’s hard to imagine any other cities.” I said, trying to picture what it might look like, but only managing to picture an echo of what I knew of Black Mark, a great walled thing, massive and impenetrable. I’d read about the other cities in my classes, but that didn’t make the idea of
them any less abstract.
“There are many other cities, Lillin. None of them are like the capital. Most of them have walls, but the walls have single gates that you can walk under in a few seconds. They are open for people to come and go as they please, and people do. There are massive trade caravans that travel between them. It is quite a different world out here.” Arthos smiled, seeming to relax a bit as we mounted up. It was as though he was putting the haunted village behind him, and allowing it to slip away, including the darkness it had cast over both of us. I wasn’t so sure I could quickly do the same.
For a fleeting moment, as I slipped onto Zara’s saddle, I thought my eyes passed over someone standing at the clearing’s edge. I caught the briefest sight of fancy black clothing, and a man’s face set with dark eyes, but when I looked back in that direction there was nothing. I looked about a few more times before rounding Zara once more only to see that Arthos was heading down the road on his mount. I urged Zara to follow after, but it felt like the dark eyes of the vanishing man still bore into me from some hidden location.
Chapter 10
A Warden
10.1
Arthos became insistent about training me properly. We worked at it constantly, even stopping for hours at a time to train instead of travel. As we rode he made me repeat the codes used to communicate across the stones until I could recite them without hesitation as easily as I could string together a sentence. A far finer trick though was mastering the use of my Will to actually manage the intricacies stone. Arthos said I was trying to strike the rock with a breaking hammer when all I really needed to do was ring a cat’s bell. I was using too much force and not enough finesse. This seemed a problem with all of my Will efforts.
Seeing that I was struggling, Arthos began to adapt the techniques he used to teach me things. He gave up on finesse, and I could sense some frustration from him about this. Instead of learning to parry an attack with Will, he taught me how to stagger a foe. Instead of teaching me how to lift and move an object, he showed me how to send out a wave of Will that could throw multiple things at once, though not in any really predictable way. I could see that this wasn’t ideal for him, and I didn’t think it was for me either.
I needed to get better with my control, and this new line of instruction didn’t help with that.
“We have to work with what you have. You have power and no focus, so use that to your advantage. You might never learn to use your Will as a fine tool, but that doesn’t mean you’re defenseless. Just remember, you’re going to be weak against anyone who has a strong Will of their own, even if they’re not a Will user. Without focus, you can’t hope to make a compelling attack, even if you can throw out an alarming amount of raw power. Breaking a Will defense takes finesse.” And he was right. I couldn't get through his defenses, not when he really tried. Worse yet, I couldn't weave those defenses for myself. I could use my Will in a defensive manner, but only by adapting mostly offensive techniques. Blocking a weapon required focus. Repulsive barriers required focus. In fact, any prolonged use of Will required focus, and I couldn’t do that. I tried and tried, but each time I failed.
This lead to Arthos snapping at me a few times. “If you can’t master the simple things, how do you expect to understand the more complex ones, Lillin? Stop grabbing at all of your Will at once like a child let loose in a pastry shop.”
I eventually learned to use the stone, but it wasn’t easy for me. What took Arthos a minute to send would take me a half an hour or more. The failure on my part was endlessly frustrating just just for Arthos, but for me as well. For all that the lessons were frustrating, I didn’t give up on them. I kept at what Arthos taught me, practicing every free moment I had, even well after Arthos had given up for the day.
By the time we reached the first city beyond the wall, about three weeks after leaving behind the haunting empty village, I was able to use my Will enough to make it look like I knew what I was doing to someone who didn’t know any better. I also tried to remind myself that my weapon and survival training were far beyond what most other people had. It would be unlikely that I would run into common folks who could pose a threat.
Still, I felt less like a Warden than I’d hoped I would by that point. As we drew up to the city of Evelsmoth I also found myself keenly aware of the markings on my face. I drew up the hood on my cloak and tried to sink back into it as we dismounted the kea from beyond the wall.
“You don’t have to hide your tattoo here, Lillin.” Arthos said, clearly noticing my discomfort. “People wear ink as a matter of decoration beyond the wall, though facial tattoos are very uncommon. Also you’re a warden. Your uniform will make that clear. People will say nothing of your mark.”
“Do the people out here really know much of the Wardens?” I was honestly curious. We’d crossed so much land to get here. It seemed that the city I’d grown up in was an island unto itself. Other than the small village, now empty, there had been nothing around it.
“Everyone this side of the Void Plains knows who we are. We maintain a presence. That is what we’re here to do. We’ll visit the Mayor of the city and he’ll tell us of any business that needs doing, things he can’t do with his small defensive standing army, things no one will dare do on their own. We’ll go out and take care of that business and then move on.” Arthos answered. “When the next training group comes through, they’ll do the same. It keeps the people here used to seeing us, and gets things done that they can’t do on their own. We maintain the power of the King, and the respect of the Wardens this way.”
As we drew nearer the wall I noticed that it seemed trifling small. It was also made of wood frames and stone small enough that it might have been easily stacked by hand. It stood only about twice as tall as Arthos who was less than a head taller than I was. This place barely seemed a city at all, though I could see that the wall did stretch quite far in two directions, and there were a lot of people at the gate, carts and individuals moving in and out of the city. I took note that we were the only travelers approaching from the road we’d traveled, which explained why it was so rough and mostly overgrown.
People did start to notice us as we drew closer. One pointed, and then like a wave spreading through water, bodies rippled into motion and turned our way. Before we’d even arrived at the main intersection that connected us to the road heading into the city, the busy people who’d been jostling for position to get in or out of Evelsmoth were suddenly jostling to get out of our way instead, pulling carts into the grass and pushing others out of their way to make a path for us.
“Wardens!” The urgent whisper went through the crowd. Some people made what looked like warding gestures in the air in front of them, and while everyone seemed to want to stare, their eyes were soon downcast if I met them.
It felt strange to have people bowing and acting like I was something special after having been at the bottom of the pack for so long. During training I’d pictured myself like this sometimes, and thought it might be exciting and fun, that it would fill me with a sense of importance, but the truth of it was that I found the attention awkward. I didn’t like their eyes on me any better now than I had when it had been because I was hated, and my face markings made me an outcast. I was still an outcast, but now I was an outcast because I had become part of some unapproachable, imposing legend.
We made our way through the gates and onto the streets without even speaking to the guards. They simply scrambled out of our way like everyone else, and then we were walking down roads that were roughly cobbled and almost worse than just walking across bare terrain. The whole first section of the city had that look to it. It looked used and old, worn in a way that no part of Black Mark ever would. Even the slums weren’t so worn and dirty in my home city. Yet, for all that it was in a bad state of disrepair, the people went about their business with seeming indifference to their surroundings. I could watch through the crowds and see happy people involved in all manner of daily activity with no real concern for the
state of the city about them.
In fact, if I had to lay wager, I would have said that the men and women of Evelsmoth were happier than those I’d seen about town in Black Mark. Perhaps clean streets and pristine walkways weren’t the gauge by which a city should be judged.
People who saw us still jumped from our path as quickly as possible, but for the most part we made very little disturbance as we moved through the districts, headed towards a tower a few miles beyond the wall.
“The gate is where the city began.” Arthos said, speaking in a quiet tone that was meant only for me. “Everything gets newer the further in we travel. The tower there,” He nodded where we were headed. “Is one of the newest additions to the city. It’s only about ten years old at this point. That is where the mayor resides, where we’ll go to find what tasks need doing. The tasks will probably take us beyond the walls. There is a defensive army that handles most of the business inside the walls, though occasionally we have business herein.”
“What sort of business do they leave for us?” I asked, curious about what tasks they wouldn’t be able to handle on their own. It also seemed strange to me to see a city that was newer at the edges than in the middle. I thought most places grew the other way, but perhaps here the wall had been built and then the city had hidden away behind it, slowly spreading as it needed to. What happened once the space inside the walls was full?