Elpis

by Aaron McGowan

  ELPIS

  AARON MCGOWAN

  Elpis Project ©2011 Aaron McGowan

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Visit our website at www.facebook.com/projectelpis

  McGowan, Aaron.

  Elpis / Aaron McGowan

  Summary: To avenge the death of his parents and the destruction of his village, Terico seeks to obtain the four fragments of the Elpis—a source of power that will allow his enemy Delkol to conquer the world.

  Printed in Australia

  Table of Contents

  The World Changes

  First Steps on a Bloody Path

  Depths of the Forsaken

  A Deadly Game

  The Downward Spiral

  Lifeless City

  Hatred and Hope

  Unexpected Reunion

  Clash in the Skies

  His Entire Heart

  A War of Vengeance

  The Fate of Destroyers and Saviors

  1

  The World Changes

  Terico’s father had always told him that creatures capable of saving lives were generally just as capable of taking them. Humans were the prime example of this, but at this moment, three levels down an underground cave, Terico felt that the carnivorous pitcher plant worked just as nicely. The monster’s roots were needed to heal some patients in the village’s clinic—but one wrong move, and Terico would be lying on a hospital bed himself. Or worse—in a coffin.

  Father tapped the Nexi stone at the end of his staff a couple times to cause the smooth, transparent red rock to shine brighter. The light exposed the pitcher plant near the end of the tunnel in its full grotesque corruption. Looming at least ten meters tall, the plant filled the entirety of the rocky nook it rested in. Thorny vines ran up and down the walls and ceiling, all leading back to a giant bulbous vessel that constantly overflowed with noxious black and yellow liquids. It stank of vinegar and decaying animals.

  The stench was overwhelming, and made Terico a little light-headed. He gripped his longsword tighter and took a couple nauseous steps back, bumping into his friend, Turan.

  “Watch it, mate.” Turan slapped Terico’s leg with the flat end of his sword.

  Terico shoved the back of his sword’s hilt into Turan’s stomach, which was well protected by leather armor. Turan let out an exaggerated groan, fell to his knees, and leaned against his sword as he exhaled a slow, dying gasp of breath.

  “Pay attention, both of you,” Father said. “The moment it feels threatened, the creature will lash out at all of us.” He slipped out a green Nexi stone and clipped it into a slot in the center of his sword’s hilt. “Best you both stay back a minute.”

  “You’ll need help with this, Dad,” Terico said. “I’ve fought off cavern monsters before.”

  Father planted his glowing staff in a tight crevice in the floor. “None this big. Not even half this big, unless Turan’s... embellished stories of the fifteen-meter flying shark bush is to be believed.”

  “It was twenty meters,” Turan said, still on his knees.

  Terico kept from sighing, choosing to maintain focus on the burbling pitcher plant. Some of the creature’s vines were sliding up and down the cave walls a bit, and Terico wondered if this was a sign the monster was awake. It was difficult to discern much when fighting against something without a face.

  “I can do this,” Terico said. “Use your Nexi stone to hold back the vines, and I’ll rush in to stab the heart of the pitcher.”

  “It doesn’t have a heart,” Father said. “It will take quite a bit of hacking to kill this thing. How do you plan to avoid its pool of acid?”

  Terico pulled a light blue Nexi stone from one of his trouser’s pockets and held it up for his father to see.

  “Where did you get that?” Father asked.

  Terico smiled, not wanting to admit he had snuck off on another overnight adventure. The stone was a reward for his efforts, and he was smart enough to save it for such a time as this.

  His father glanced to the side and smirked. “You take after me a little too well sometimes... Very well then. Your mother will kill me though if you lose an arm or something.”

  “Or scar that pretty face of yours,” Turan added.

  Father turned to Turan. “You watch Terico’s back. And mine too, while you’re at it.”

  Turan jumped to his feet and stood up straight, his sword raised in front of him. “Yes, sir, Mr. Obisious!”

  Terico clenched his teeth and stared the poisonous, jagged creature down. Have to take it down quick, he thought. Dad and Turan are counting on me... and so is Mother. As the village herbalist, Terico’s mother was the only one who could create this particular concoction from the pitcher plant’s roots.

  And really, the ones who were counting on him most were the three sick villagers who needed this medicine. Terico had visited them with Mother a few days ago—an elderly man, a young woman, and a four-year-old boy. They each had deep red boils beneath their eyes, and were too weak to speak or even move much. Terico wanted to help everyone in town, just as his father had always done. Through his skills with alchemy, the Nexi stones, and the sword, Terico’s father had likely helped out almost every single villager at some point. It was thanks to him that the town took any measures at all to prepare for the possibility of attack from the Shires Kingdom, and Terico wished to be prepared for such an event.

  Terico readied his sword in his right hand, and gripped his blue Nexi stone in his left. “Let’s go.”

  He charged down the cavern tunnel. Each of his footsteps echoed increasingly faster and louder. Father and Turan followed behind him, their steps almost harmonizing in the reverberations.

  Tens of vines leaped off the walls and lunged for Terico. The monster couldn’t hear them, but it could feel the threat in the approaching footsteps across the limestone floor. Father swung his sword forward, forcing a dozen Nexi-powered vines to spring out from his blade. With remarkable speed and dexterity, Father directed each of his sword’s thin leafy vines to wrap around the incoming thorn-decked tentacles of the pitcher plant. Terico kept running for the monster as his father held its attacks at bay.

  The pallid, fleshy vessel of the plant lurched forward. It leaned down, spilling buckets of black and yellow acids. From within the deep pitcher, the monster erupted a large, messy burst of the liquid toward Terico.

  Terico skidded to a stop and raised his Nexi stone in front of him. He connected his mind to the stone and felt his blood chill. The air in front of the Nexi stone turned cold in an instant, freezing the acid spray into tiny ice specks that bounced off Terico’s cloak harmlessly. He aimed the stone toward the ground ahead of him, freezing the deep puddles of poisonous liquid spread across the floor.

  Two set of vines rushed for Terico from either side of him. “Go left, Turan!” Terico turned to his right and hacked at the vines before they could drive their long, jagged thorns into his neck. At the same time, Turan leaped forward and hewed down the vines lunging for Terico’s back.

  Terico ran for the pitcher plant, careful to keep his footing on the icy floor. More vines were emerging from the monster, but Terico used his opening to transfer what energy he could to his Nexi stone. Before the creature could release another burst of poisonous liquid, Terico chucked the stone into the giant pitcher, freezing all of its acid instantly. The creature rolled forward a bit, then slumped down to its side. Its many vines slowly drooped to the floor around it, and Terico breat
hed a sigh of relief.

  He smiled. I did it, he thought. I did it!

  A sound like scraping glass emanated from the plant. An oozing slit formed down its side, then burst apart into large globules. Dozens of thin, crimson vines rushed out of the creature, and from the end of each sprouted flytraps—huge needle-toothed maws that shrieked like a flock of bats.

  Terico beat his sword against them, but there were far too many to keep up with. They ducked and swerved around his swings, then jabbed their needles against him. Terico evaded their attacks as best he could, but he was quickly overwhelmed. The flytraps dug deep gashes into his right arm, down his left shin, across his chest, and into his back before he could slip away from them.

  Turan rushed into the herd, screaming. With fast, broad swings he lobbed off several of the flytraps at a time—only for the vines to immediately sprout new ones from their ends.

  Terico stumbled back but managed to keep his feet, despite the stinging pain of his injuries. Another set of thin vines launched for him, but it was difficult to fend them off with his right arm badly wounded. His father leaped into the fray, swinging away faster than Terico had ever seen of a swordsman before. Father frantically sliced the vines to bits, but new flytraps continued to emerge from the creature.

  “Get back!” Turan yelled. He leaped back from a swarm of flytraps encircling him, then lifted a red Nexi stone directly in front of them. A sea of flames exploded in front of the stone, wiping out the mass of fly-traps. Instead of fading into the air, the flames rushed down the vines and into what was left of the half-frozen pitcher plant. Turan aimed the stone for the flytraps attacking Father, then forced his flames to rush down the entirety of those vines as well. Turan bent down to one knee, breathing heavily. The crackling fires quickly dissipated into fleeting embers, leaving nothing but a charred, ash-speckled husk of the plant creature.

  Father walked toward what was left of the monster, approaching with an air of caution. There were no vines left to attack him, but he readied his sword to hack away at the thick, mutilated pitcher.

  Another tear formed on the plant. A long, bloody spinal cord thrust itself out from the side of the vessel. Terico stared in disbelief as the set of bones floated into the air, then aimed its long, pointed end toward Father—it looked far sharper than any spear.

  Father squinted his eyes and smirked.

  The spinal cord flew for his head. He turned in place. Terico saw a blur of red and white whoosh past Father. A wave of dust, pebbles, and small rocks flew against Father from behind a moment later. Terico expected the spinal cord to lunge back for Father again, but all was silent.

  Once the dust cleared, Terico saw Father with his sword raised, blood dripping down its blade. The entire sword was glowing a light orange, and Terico realized Father had switched his hilt’s green Nexi stone for an orange one, giving his weapon greater strength. In a split-second Father had positioned his sword at just the right spot for the spinal cord to plow straight through the reinforced blade. Sure enough, Terico found the spinal cord sprawled across the floor, split into two perfect halves down its entire length.

  “What was that?” Terico asked, his voice strained from the pain of his gashes.

  “Some foul parasite,” Father said. “Are you all right, though?”

  “Yes, I’ll be fine.”

  “Good,” Father said. “A quick lesson then, Terico. If your goal is to kill something, you have to take extra measures to ensure it’s truly dead.”

  Terico realized he should have done more after freezing all the acid. Monsters were often unpredictable, and you could never be too careful with them—especially when they were this big.

  “Sorry. I shouldn’t have let my guard down.”

  “I didn’t think it was still alive either,” Turan said. “It was just a really weird monster.”

  Father turned to Turan. “You must be ready for anything in the heat of a battle. Your enemy, be it a monster or a soldier, may always have an ability you are not aware of. I imagine that one day you will learn this the hard way... Regardless, you did quite well here, Turan. I didn’t realize you had learned to wield the red Nexi so capably. It’s a surprise, but I am impressed. Fire is very difficult to control.”

  Turan looked to the side and sheathed his sword. “Well... I have been practicing.”

  Terico was surprised Father was giving Turan so much credit. Admittedly, Turan did a very good job—he had a knack for Nexi stones in general—but Father wasn’t one who was quick to give compliments like this. He certainly had never praised Terico much, though in this instance it was understandable, given how badly he got beat up.

  “Let’s cut the roots from the pitcher, Turan,” Father said. “We’ll want to get Terico home so he has time to get his wounds dressed before your classes starts.”

  Father and Turan were quick to slice off all the thin, wispy roots of pitcher plant. They were scraggly and hued a sickly light blue, and smelled like rotten cabbages. Once they finished removing all the roots, Turan gathered them all in a big pile and carried them with both arms, careful to not lose any of them.

  “Need any help walking, Terico?” he asked.

  Terico struggled not to wince when he stepped with his left leg. “I’ll be fine.”

  “I’ll be sure to let Suran know you got beaten up by a plant,” Turan said. “Or when she asks about those cuts at school, you can tell her yourself! She’ll be all over you then.”

  “Yes, and then I can let all the girls at school know about your little collision with the fluff ball bunnies last week.”

  “They attacked me in my sleep!”

  When Father started to laugh, Turan was quick to give a detailed explanation of that day’s events, in some vain effort to save his pride.

  Terico’s thoughts meanwhile drifted to Suran, an elvish classmate he had liked for some time now. A part of him wanted to do a good job this morning for her, too. He was glad to help the village get these roots for the medicine, but he had hoped to... perhaps impress Suran a bit as well.

  He followed Father and Turan out of the cave, his mind filled with concerns for what he would tell Suran at school. It was pointless to worry, but it helped distract him from the pain of his injuries.

  The walk back home felt a lot longer than the walk to the cave, but Terico managed to keep up with Father and Turan well enough. The sun had risen while they were underground, and cast the fields of turnips and onions in a warm golden glow. It didn’t take long for travelers to pass through the small town of Edellerston, but the fertile landscape was always a sight to behold. As was typically the case, the air felt misty against Terico’s skin—even when the heavens were clear, there was almost always a bit of precipitation.

  In all his sixteen years of life, Terico had never grown tired of gazing across these farmlands. The modest thatched hovels and simple log structures of Edellerston’s populace certainly didn’t elicit any sense of adventure, but Terico was grateful for the quiet stability the town offered.

  He soon came in sight of the central square, where the small, but bright limestone cathedral rested. It stood as a testament of the villagers’ faith in the gods, but also acted as the site for public discourse and special events—including the Long Shadow Festival coming in a few days.

  Just a few minutes past the central square was Terico’s home, which also served as a shop for Mother’s herbs and Father’s stones and potions. Herbalism and alchemy often worked hand in hand, and they usually got a couple travelers a day looking to buy some of their wares. Otherwise they spent most of their time and energy developing new concoctions, most of which went over Terico’s head.

  Father opened the door and led Turan to the dining table, which more often than not was covered with lab materials, rather than food. Turan set the pile of light blue roots down on a clear section of the table, between a few glasses of orange liquid and a set of loosely rolled-up scrolls.

  Mother sat at the other end of the table, jotting down
a few notes in a hand-sized leather notebook. She set it down and stood up to give Father a hug. Father kissed her on the forehead and draped his forearms across her shoulders.

  “Welcome home, dear,” Mother said. “I see you all found plenty of berial.”

  “Should be enough for at least twenty doses, dearest,” Father said.

  “You never fail to impress, dearest forever.”

  “You’re the one who inspires me, dearest of all times, all places.”

  Turan cast an exasperated look in Terico’s direction. “I can see where you get your flair for romance.”

  This sort of dialogue was fairly typical of Terico’s parents. It was all sickly sweet, but their smiles were always pure and warm when they tried to outdo each other’s praises. Terico had never heard his mother and father argue with each other—they weren’t the type to yell at anyone, and it was rare for people to get upset with them in return.

  Mother let go of Father and walked over to Terico. “Oh no... you look hurt.”

  “Giant pitcher plant monster,” Terico explained. “It got a few hits in before it died.”

  Mother pushed back Terico’s right sleeve and looked over the gash one of the flytraps gave him. “Oh... let’s get that bandaged up, Sea Scrub.”

  It was a name that always amused Turan, though it only referred to the color of Terico’s dark blue hair. It was a bit of a stark contrast with Mother’s light brown hair and Father’s golden blond—Mother said her father’s hair was blue, so it was assumed Terico got it from his late grandfather.

  A clanging of pots or pans came from the kitchen. Terico took a few steps to see who it could possibly be, and almost jumped back when he saw Suran standing at the counter, cutting up some turnips. She was wearing a light yellow blouse and green skirt—like the sun shining on a meadow.

  “Oh, hi, Terico.” She gave her knife a little wave, then closed her eyes a bit and gave an adorable smile.