Aphrodite's Acolyte

by J. E. Spatafore

  A dark dressed feminine figure walked toward the caravan from the desert. Fidel and Fardicus both saw the woman approach, quickly gaining ground on them. After a few minutes, Abigail stood before Fidel and Fardicus, tired and sweating from the final miles of the desert travel. She gave a passive glance at the captain. Fardicus started scrutinizing this human female standing before him.

  Abigail looked at Fidel. “Is there water waiting?”

  Fidel smiled wide and looked at Fardicus, who was still intently staring at Abigail. Fidel announced the arrival of his “scry”.

  Fardicus snapped his fingers and jumped up, pointing at Abigail. “I know you! Remove your mask, woman!”

  Abigail took a defensive posture to Fardicus, facing him directly and reaching up to her face, her right hand resting on the dagger at her side. She pulled her mask off her head. Her black eyes were staring coldly at Fardicus as she exposed the scar running from her left ear to the left corner of her small and feminine mouth.

  Fardicus' expression of surprise quickly turned to a threatening stare. “Yes, I do remember you." Fardicus turned to Fidel. "Fidel, this woman, if she should be called such, is a perfect example of the second chance we have spoken of. She has half a decade of history stealing from and thieving from us merchants along the roads of Mirater. That scar of hers. Well, she can tell the tale before I do. Do you care to explain, thief?” Fardicus sternly folded his arms in front of him.

  Fidel stared at Abigail, paying attention to her delicate skin and beautiful face. Somehow, the large scar enhanced her features instead of detracted from them. Fidel, knowing Abigail to already have proven her worthiness in his eyes, put both hands out in a non-concerning gesture and told Abigail to just tell him the story.

  Abigail explained her life as a thief on the roads from Harlow's Hovel to the eastern cities of Marisali and Marides. As she told her tale, Fidel kept giving her water and offered some food, often visually scolded by Fardicus when doing so. Abigail finally got to the part of the scar. She recounted the day when she got caught by the local authorities in Marisali while trying to steal some jewels from the local jewel-master. She had two accomplices.

  The subsequent interrogation was rough and she finally exposed her accomplices whereabouts to the authorities. Shortly after doing so, she was able to escape the prison and headed out to warn her friends of the impending doom. When she arrived at their hideout, one of her friends were already dead as well as four of the city guards. Her companion, a dwarf male named Balomes Transigo was missing in action.

  When she was ready to leave, the dwarf surprised her and gave her a beating so bad she could barely move. He then ran his axe blade down her face from her left ear to her left lip as a reminder to never cross him again.

  Fidel considered the story. After a few minutes, he only had one question. “Abigail, I must ask you. Have you stolen since that day?”

  Abigail looked up at Fidel and Fardicus, a glimpse of guilt in her eyes. “Yes. I have stolen food to get by. Many times I desired what others had, such as your magical pack or the trinkets in the windows of the stores I have passed. But this scar reminds me of a life I do not wish to return to. Only food have I stolen when hunting does not suffice.”

  Fidel thought for a second, considering the life of Abigail Lapillus. Fardicus eased his stance and sat down, also considering her life since her thieving days.

  Fidel stared at Fardicus. “I believe we should forgive Abigail for her past crimes. She has turned her life around. My judgment, if that is what you ask for, is that she is forgiven. I believe in this quite strongly. I am willing to leave the caravan to travel by her side the remaining way to Puldechra.”

  Fardicus scratched his bearded chin, considering Fidel's words. Fardicus nodded. “I agree Fidel. I'm liking your concept of second chances and non-lethal ends. Carry on with your new acquaintance, she is welcome to stay or go as she pleases the rest of the way.”

  Fardicus smiled at Abigail. “Welcome to the group.” Fardicus stood up and offered his chair to Abigail, then headed to the camp to inform everybody this was a day of rest to do with as they pleased.

  Abigail and Fidel headed out of camp to walk through the outlying trees of Puldechra. They connected through the stories of Fidel's second mother, a master thief from the town of Marides by the name of Framan. A name Abigail recognized, although she had never met her.

  Abby shared stories of her many heists. She shared how she did not care for the killing done when having to defend oneself from the punishments of their victims. She described the thieving community as a group of self-serving individuals with no sense of loyalty, neither to cause nor to fellowship. She shed a few tears as she explained her exploits and the many friends she had lost on her path. She showed Fidel some of her potions and poisons, her specialty developed while a child and enhanced through her thefts of rare goods.

  Fidel's stories were different. He was never forced to fight his way free from being punished. His thefts were more indirect and discreet. His mother only brought him on burglaries where there was a low chance of being caught, but required lookouts. He explained how Framan taught him to pick locks, disarm traps, and sneak through crowded rooms. He demonstrated the palm walk, as his mother called it, which consisted of crouching and stepping on the tops of the hands, using the palms of the hands to reduce the noise of each step. The two carried on conversation while walking and enjoying the green Puldechran scenery for hours, occasionally running into a local and inquiring about the region.

  The stories turned toward why Fidel was coming back to Puldechra. He pulled the scroll out from his birth parents and shared it with Abby. To much enjoyment, Abby read the scroll aloud. The added tone, pitch, cadence, and the lovely sound of Abby's voice enhanced the meaning of the letter from his parents.

  Abby requested to continue in Fidel's company, Fidel answering he naturally expected such to happen. They both realized then, the formal wall of their relationship was now removed, and their time together will be as friends. Not one of them had station above the other. They were equals.

  The sun crested the highest point in the sky and started its decline into the west, beginning its retreat behind the high forests of Puldechra. The pair made their way back to the camp, both expressing interest in watching this particular sunset. The first sunset of their unbridled friendship.

  On their way back, Fidel shared Fardicus' theory of Abby being a spy for some corrupted Puldechran army. After Abby finished laughing at the notion, she denied the accusation, stating reasons of paranoia on Fardicus' part, but did say their was merit to his reasoning.

  Fidel asked about the death of the dwarf and Abby just shrugged and asked what Fidel would do if he saw her in the same situation. He grinned and stated he'd do exactly the same thing, except he would have used a bolt of lightning.

  Abby asked why a mage would give up his cover under a wagon to charge into a battalion of enemies, forcing hand to hand combat, surely not a specialty of a mage. Fidel chuckled and said the excitement was overwhelming and it sounded good at the moment. And so the conversation continued back to camp, sharing the stories of the ride to Puldechra and questioning each others thoughts. Forming a lasting friendship in the process.

  As they crested a small hill toward the camp, they saw large plumes of smoke rising in the distance. Both of their hearts sank, fearing an ambush had come about. They sprinted toward the camp to investigate the scene, Fidel pulling his staff from his pack and Abby pulling her twin daggers from their sheaths. It became rather clear within a few hundred yards before their arrival that nothing was amiss.

  The fire was in lieu of having a leisure tent this evening. The caravan intended on sleeping under the open sky this night, enjoying nature's scenery laid out before them. Everybody's cots formed a circle around the fire. The buffet tables were filling up with food and the pungent smells of various roasted animals were making Fidel's and Abby's mouths water. Fidel placed his staff back in his pack, Abby sheathed
her knives, and they both looked at each other. “Time to eat!” they said in unison and headed off toward the tables.

  The sun was just starting to dip below the tops of the trees to the west. The group was ramping up their celebration. Various conversations filled the air as the caravan and their newest member engaged in mingling and games. The lighthearted atmosphere was full of laughter as the sun set behind the trees of the Puldechran forest. Fidel watched it all with happiness in his heart. The festivities continued late into the night and faded away as the members of the caravan started to settle in one by one.

  The night air was still cool and the fire was burning low when Fardicus woke Fidel. The eastern horizon was just showing signs of light in the far distance as Fidel rubbed his eyes. Fardicus motioned for Fidel to join him in his tent.

  The conversation the two engaged in was about the delivery of Fidel to Puldechra. Fardicus gave Fidel a parchment containing their travel plans for the next three years, telling Fidel he would always be welcome. Fardicus gave him advice over the customs and traditions of the elven community. On the back of the parchment, Fardicus drew a rough map of the region, showing Fidel many landmarks to stop by and the general structure of the cities among the trees.

  Fardicus tossed Fidel a coin purse, filled with coins from six major regions of the northeast corner of Mirater. Fidel asked why and Fardicus stated it was his pay. He let Fidel know he was the bravest warrior he had ever met and his courage was pivotal in the bandit raid. Fidel departed Fardicus' tent as the sun pierced the darkness over the eastern horizon.

  The caravan headed west, into the forests of Puldechra. The trees blocked out much of the suns rays, making the walk feel like a perpetual walk in the hours of dusk. Many buildings lined the bottoms of the canopies, various shops, taverns, inns, and houses. Each tree containing a building had signs printed at the base of the corresponding tree with rope and pulley contraptions to bring a traveler up to the corresponding business. Trees with shops or taverns typically had hitching posts for travelers to use. The roads were well established on the ground, making travel easy through the dense woods.

  So it went on for three more days of travel and three more nights of celebrations. More and more signs showed they were reaching the area's center, the actual city of Puldechra. The buildings in the trees grew in density, some of which only one tree apart. Walkways from one tree to another started to appear and some buildings looked like defensive structures, high walled walkways providing archers cover while allowing them to fire their life-stealing arrows. The frequency of elves increased the further the caravan marched, some of them stirring up conversations with the caravan members and joining in the walk in mutual companionship.

  When Fidel noticed the walkways were frequently criss-crossing and the tree density was lessening, he saw a large wall with a gate a few hundred yards away. The caravan stopped on Fardicus' command.

  Fardicus rode over to Fidel. “This is your home. Beyond that wall is Puldechra, the only city in this forest on the ground. Are you ready to see your origins?”

  Fidel took a deep breath and nodded, both curious and anxious to see the city of his birth. Fardicus told Fidel to grab two of the horses, one each for Fidel and Abby. After they transitioned to their respective steeds, Fardicus rode to the front and gave a speech that their journey was at an end.

  Fardicus reminded the three wagon drivers of where they were to drop off the goods. He thanked the group for all their company and reminded them of the next rally point for departure. The travelers all shared farewells to each other, many of which stopped by to wish Fidel a good journey in his life.

  Once all the sentiments were out-of-the-way, the caravan re-assembled and gave each other respected nods and smiles. They began their final approach to the gates of Puldechra, the sun shining in the western sky at half mast.

  Chapter V

  A Message and a Reunion

  The elven sorceress waggled her fingers over the body of the recently deceased dwarf, emitting a gray mist with each movement . The mist enveloped the dwarf, appearing to dissipate upon touching the cold skin and turning it gray. She worked her magic up and down the entire length of the red-haired dwarf's body. Once the ritual was complete, the dwarf opened his orange tinted eyes and stared at the proud sorceress. Black streaks, much like lightning bolts, shot from the sorceress' black eyes into the dwarfs, turning the orange pupils of the recently deceased dwarf into gray and lifeless orbs. The dazed dwarf rose to his feet.

  She asked the dwarf what the last thing he remembered was. “Raising me shield to defend meself,” came his reply.

  “Do you remember where you were?” she continued with the questioning.

  “In thee desert, attackin' a band of merchants.”

  The questioning went on for a while as the dark sorceress learned of Fissur's ragtag group of bandits inability to defeat a three-wagon merchant caravan. Halfway through the questioning, when the conversation turned more personal and intrusive, the dwarf realized he could not move, he could not act against this sorceress. He could not avoid answering a question. The sorceress' ability to control the dwarf made him uncomfortable. Once the sorceress had all she cared to learn, she dismissed the dwarf from her chambers.

  The witch's assistant, a male elf of the same height and stature, escorted the confused dwarf from the chambers. Upon his return, the sorceress questioned how many more of these lifeless prisoners remained. “Ten more undead minions will be denied to Hades this evening, my master.” The sorceress smiled with wicked glee at the increasing number of undead coming under her control. They heard a sharp rap on their chamber door.

  “Lord Fineal summons you Mistress Medeis!” called the herald in the hall.

  She responded, “I will be there in a few moments.” The herald departed and the sorceress tasked her apprentice, Venin Adses, to finish raising the remaining ten lifeless soldiers. She departed to answer her lord's summons.

  As she exited her tower to head toward the main hall, the sun was on its decline from its daily orbit. She heard the gates of the city being opened as several guards announced the arrival of a merchant caravan. She sported a wicked smile, knowing the history of this caravan's dealings in the Rivolus desert. She continued on to the main hall to meet with her lord.

  The gates opened wide, welcoming the traveling caravan. The group marched through, staring at the marvels of Puldechra. More than half of the caravan knew their way around, breaking the lines and heading in their own directions. Fidel and Abby, on the other hand, remained close to Fardicus Merc, his eyes being their guide as they made their way through the city.

  The walls of Puldechra, rising an easy fifteen feet high, seemed to go on for miles. Overhead, walkways stretched between the various trees which remained, appearing to only exist to support the walkways. The large and white main hall could be seen from the gate, with two towers rising high on each side. The city was very organized and planned with straight rows of buildings and massive roads separating them.

  As Abby and Fidel rode on their horses, they listened to Fardicus' free-flowing information. The residential district was found furthest from the gates, the trade buildings were closest. Inns and taverns were second from the gates, the barracks and other government buildings sitting between the residents and the commerce. Alleyways were frequent, no doubt allowing the residents and visitors to take shortcuts between the various buildings. The huge city definitely sported a design of logic and convenience very indicative of the elven inhabitants.

  After the initial tour, Fidel informed Fardicus he would be heading to the main hall to deliver the message from Lord Ias. Fardicus wished them well and went on his way. Fidel and Abby headed toward the main hall. A large statue of Aphrodite stood tall between them and their destination. They stopped for a few moments to admire the intricate stone working, noticing not a single tool mark was evident. The statue was over twice the size of a human male and was beautiful enough to correctly resemble the Goddess of Love
. They made their way around the statue, hitched their horses to the posts, and headed inside to meet the Lord of Puldechra.

  An elven servant greeted them and signed them in to see the king. The servant requested Abby to remove her daggers and bow. Both her and Fidel nodded at each other, recognizing they should have placed these in his magical bag before entering, a lesson learned between them. The servant led them into the next room, a waiting room for audience with the king.

  As they walked through the waiting room doors, they both felt the hairs on the back of their necks stand up, a distinct coldness about them. They glanced at each other, looking for the other to provide an answer. Both of them shrugged in confusion.

  Just as they were about to sit down, an elven woman, pale in skin by all standards of the living, entered the room and walked toward the throne room. She gave a passive glance at Fidel and Abby, making each of them feel uneasy.

  She wore a black robe, with white hair contrasting with her youthful features. She wore a curious crown of ivy atop her head. She stopped and turned then walked over to Fidel, wearing a friendly smile on her face. Fidel introduced himself, noticing her black eyes seemed devoid of life, cold as steel. The conversation stayed formal, Fidel filling in the woman, known as Pravas Medeis, with the details of his origins in Harlow's Hovel.

  She returned in kind explaining her origins of Puldechra and her position as Archmage of the realm. The exchange was friendly yet the atmosphere was cold. Pravas gave Fidel a few pointers on the traditions for meeting Lord Fineal, wished the couple farewell, and departed to the throne room.