The Tower of Daelfaun (The Tales of Zanoth Book 1)

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The Tower of Daelfaun (The Tales of Zanoth Book 1) Page 9

by Ethridge, Aaron J.


  “It's because you're more useful as you are,” the ogress interrupted. “You were able to slaughter Lord Kasric by facing him during the day and destroying him with the sun. That was something neither of your adopted parents could do. They wanted his lands and his title and they have them now thanks to your power and your immunity to the sun.”

  “Lord Kasric was a monster,” Myra replied. “And Lord and Lady Telraen wanted him destroyed so that...”

  “So that they could take his place,” Alena smiled. “Believe whatever you want. That's the truth. You're the slave of your parents' murders and you've never had the courage to oppose them.”

  “You're wrong!”

  In response the ogress simply shook her head.

  “Okay,” Paul said, glancing over at the lich. “So, you were raised by vampires and that's why you turned to evil. I guess that makes sense.”

  “I didn't turn to evil,” she replied rolling her eyes.

  “What do you mean?” he laughed. “We're enemies, you know; there's no reason to lie to me. You're obviously evil and babies aren't born that way so...”

  “Obviously evil,” she interrupted shaking her head. “What about me is obviously evil? You attacked and kidnapped me, remember?”

  “What?!?!” Alena replied, glaring at Myra with hatred in her eyes. “Are you trying to say we're evil you undead abomination?”

  “I don't expect you're capable of understanding,” the lich replied condescendingly, “but there are two sides in every conflict. That doesn't make either of them evil.”

  “Paul,” the ogress replied, raising her voice, “you need to kill her. Nothing good is going to come from listening to this witch's lies!”

  “Hold on,” he said, raising his hand. “I want to hear what she's got to say.”

  “I'm saying,” Myra continued, “that you only feel the undead are evil because they won the war.”

  “No...” the young man said slowly. “No, I'm saying the undead are evil because they kill other people on a fairly regular basis. And they seem to enjoy it. In my book that's way out there on the evil end of the scale.”

  “Not all of them enjoy it,” she replied. “Some of them only do it because they have to.”

  “Ummm, no,” he replied. “None of them have to.”

  “Yes they do!” she insisted. “If my adopted parents didn't feed off the living they'd die.”

  “Then they should die,” Paul replied simply.

  “What?!?!” she exclaimed. “So you'd just let my parents starve to death. Now who's evil?”

  At this Alena laughed loudly.

  “You might as well give up, Paul,” she said. “You can't teach morality to a monster.”

  “That doesn't mean we shouldn't try,” he replied.

  “I agree,” Sarrac said. “Myra, we believe that death is a natural part of life. Do you believe that?”

  “For mortals, certainly.”

  “I see,” he nodded. “And were Lord and Lady Telraen born vampires?”

  “Of course not,” she said. “That's not how it works.”

  “So then at one time they were mortal?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she admitted. “But then Lord Kasric turned them. From then on they had to feed on the living in order to survive. And that wasn't their fault, they had no choice.”

  “No, they didn't,” he replied. “However, the moment they became vampires they died. Rather than accepting that death they chose to extend their unnatural lives by killing others. That was and is their choice, and it's evil. They let other people die their deaths for them again and again.”

  “You're wrong,” the fair lich replied, shaking her head.

  “I told you it was useless,” Alena said. “She's not going to see what she doesn't want to see. All she cares about is her own safety and comfort. And selfishness is the very soul of wickedness.”

  “You're wrong about that too!” the lich snapped. “I care a great deal about the people and I've done a great deal of good for them.”

  “What?!?!” the ogress almost screeched. “Paul, I'm warning you, I'm getting closer and closer to killing her myself!”

  “Why? Don't like hearing the truth?” Myra replied with a cruel smile of her own. “I was the one who insisted they put a stop to harvesting infants. And it was also my idea to institute the curfew so fewer people would end up killed by wandering undead or ghouls that had gotten a little out of control.”

  “How very thoughtful of you!” the ogress replied.

  “It was!” she snapped. “I also made sure that the laws concerning private property were more strictly enforced, so that the living could work toward a better future. Because of my efforts the people have not only prospered, but flourished.”

  “Oh you've run the farms of the undead efficiently,” Alena replied. “No one can argue that. You make sure your masters get large, healthy harvests right on schedule!”

  “And the people are happier because of it!” the lich replied.

  “You really believe that?” the ogress laughed. “You're a fool!”

  “Let me get this straight,” Paul said, his gaze locked on Myra. “You think you're one of the good guys?”

  “No!” she exclaimed. “I know I'm one of the good guys!”

  “Wow...” Sarrac said, shaking his head. “I don't even know what to say to that.”

  “I told you,” Alena laughed. “She's a lich. We should be killing her, not talking to her.”

  “Say what you will,” Myra replied. “You're the ones breaking the law.”

  “What do you mean?” Paul asked.

  “Well, let's see,” she said, tilting her head to the side and pretending to think. “All I know of so far is: kidnapping, murder, and conspiracy. But I'm fairly certain that you have been or will be guilty of: unlawful assembly and inciting to riot. Oh, and I'll bet you stole that sword.”

  “Is she serious?” Paul chuckled, his eyes on Sarrac and his thumb pointed at the lich.

  “I think so,” the ogre laughed in reply. “And she's technically correct. According to the law we're guilty of all those things.”

  “Murder?” the young man asked.

  “Killing the zombies and ghasts,” Sarrac explained.

  “They were already dead!”

  “Not as dead as they are now,” Myra replied with a tone of self-righteous indignation.

  “We have the right to fight for survival,” Sarrac replied. “Even if we have to break the law to do it.”

  “Putting your good before the good of others?” the lich asked. “Sounds a little selfish to me. And by your rules that's evil. That's something to think about isn't it?”

  “I don't think making a vampire go hungry by protecting our own lives qualifies as selfish.”

  “I didn't mean the undead,” she replied. “At the moment you feel they're your enemies. As such, your aggression against them is justifiable. At least it is according to my own moral code. You may or may not agree. But either way, what I really meant was your fellow living beings.”

  “I see,” Alena replied. “And how exactly are we putting our good before theirs?”

  “You're disrupting the system in order to improve your own lives,” Myra said. “Rebellion like yours only leads to more suffering. The undead can't just ignore your actions. They have to respond. And what does that mean? Public executions, increased harvesting, and even torture in some cases. And it's all because you refuse to work within the system.”

  “So what you're saying,” Alena replied, a touch of disbelief in her voice, “is that by trying to rid this world of the undead scourge we're actually making things worse for the living?”

  “That's exactly what I'm saying,” the maiden nodded. “And I'm absolutely right. Can you honestly say that the Warriors of Dawn, who I suspect you belong to, have managed to bring about any lasting good for the people since their inception? They've cost a lot more lives than they've saved in my opinion. And they've made me do things I hate to even
think about. And for what? I've done a lot more to help the people than they ever have.”

  “What?” the ogress said.

  “I'm just being honest,” Myra replied. “I've spent my life working within the system and I've done measurable, quantifiable good. What have the Warriors of Dawn ever done?”

  “What they're going to do is destroy the undead completely,” Alena said. “And I can't think of a greater good to do for the living of Zanoth.”

  “That's a dream,” the lich replied, shaking her head. “A mad, fool's dream and nothing more.”

  “Why do you say that?” Paul asked.

  “A number of reasons,” Myra answered. “But I guess the big one is that the gods of the living are all dead.”

  “No they're not,” Sarrac replied.

  “Prove it,” the lich said, shooting him a glance. “For centuries the undead have ruled this world completely. No priest or paladin has risen to oppose them. Your gods are dead. You just need to accept that and learn to work within the system. That's the only way people are going to learn to be happy in the long run.”

  “And what of the prophecies?” he asked.

  “Are you serious?” she smiled. “A bunch of poetry written by a handful of crazy old priests. What should I think of them? They're all nonsense!”

  “As it happens,” Sarrac replied, “Paul is the it.”

  At this the lich burst out laughing.

  “Well,” Alena said, visibly embarrassed. “We think he might be the it.”

  “And what would make you think that?” Myra asked.

  “Well he seems to be immune to death magic,” the ogre pointed out.

  This wiped the smile from the beautiful lich's face.

  “Alright,” she nodded. “I admit that was odd, but it doesn't mean he's the it. There are other possible explanations.”

  “And he comes from Earth.”

  “You're a liar,” she smiled.

  “No, he's not,” Paul assured her. “I really am from Earth.”

  “The Warriors of Dawn attempted that summoning spell four or five times,” she replied. “Even having to fight their way through legions of undead to reach the ruins. It never worked.”

  “It actually failed nine times,” Sarrac pointed out. “The tenth time it worked, however.”

  “Even if you're telling the truth,” she replied, “that doesn't mean anything. It might have pulled anyone through.”

  “He has The Blade,” Sarrac continued.

  “I'm actually not familiar with that one,” she replied.

  “It's another of the prophecies about him,” Alena informed her. “And he does seem to have at least metaphorically fulfilled it.”

  “I see,” the lich replied. “Well then, seeing as how you want him to kill me so badly I can only assume you believe I'm the daughter of darkness.”

  “Don't you?” the ogress asked.

  “I guess I can see it,” Myra admitted. “Still, you could interpret it any number of ways. And the key to figuring out what a prophecy means is to wait until after something's happened and then try to force the prophecy to fit that.”

  “No,” Sarrac said, shaking his head. “It's not.”

  “Alright,” she said. “What's going to happen next then? Paul's here, he's got this sword, then what?”

  For a moment the entire party was silent.

  “What is it?” she laughed. “You afraid if I know the prophecy I'll be able to stop it? It wouldn't be much of a prophecy if that were possible!”

  “That's a fair point,” Alena admitted. “We're going to cleanse the Shrine of Sallin with holy water so Paul can pray at it.”

  “That's your plan?” Myra laughed. “I'm actually glad Paul didn't kill me. I can't wait to see the looks on your faces when nothing happens!”

  “And I can't wait to see the look on yours when something does,” Sarrac replied.

  Once again the party resumed its previous silence as they crossed mile after mile of the immense plain. Nyssa returned every few minutes to assure them that no undead horrors were in the vicinity, and only once during their first day of travel did they have to alter their course to avoid any possible conflicts. However, as Sarrac pointed out, this would probably become a more common occurrence as they drew nearer the shrine.

  Paul had mixed emotions as he watched the sun dropping below the horizon. He was very happy to be stopping for the night, but he could hardly imagine spending the night in such an inhospitable, and undead filled, land. Fortunately they had made their way into a small dale before the last rays of the sun failed completely. The band even managed to find enough dead wood to build a small fire.

  With this attended to, Paul resumed his training. After roughly an hour they ended the session and the group ate their meager evening meal. Sarrac didn't bother searching for food. This deep in the dark lands there was no need. As they sat, side by side, before the little blaze the fair lich kept glancing at Paul. Finally she spoke.

  “I answered your questions earlier,” she said, her eyes locked on his. “Will you answer some of mine?”

  “Probably,” he replied. “It depends on what they are.”

  “How did the Warriors of Dawn know where I would be?” she asked.

  “They didn't,” he answered. “We just stumbled up on you.”

  “Right...” she replied. “You know, lying is really pathetic. It's not like I can make you tell me. Well, not at the moment anyway.”

  “I'm not lying,” he chuckled.

  “So,” she said, staring at him from under knitted brows, “you just happened to walk up on me out in the heart of the dark lands of Mal’Creal, when I was on a mission that no one was supposed to know about, with an absolutely minimum escort. Is that what you're telling me?”

  “Yep.”

  “Please...” she replied, shaking her head. “Whatever traitor you’re protecting isn't worth the effort. Any undead that will betray his own kind won't think twice about betraying the living. You're going to end up with a knife in your back. And I'll figure out who it was in time one way or the other.”

  “Look,” he smiled. “I got no problem not answering your questions. So, if I didn't want to tell, I'd just say: I'm not telling. But, as it happens, we really did just run up on you. Sarrac, Alena, and Nyssa all seemed to think it was fate.”

  “Okay,” she sighed. “Let's just assume it was dumb luck for a moment. How did you know I couldn't kill you?”

  “I didn't.”

  “So,” she smiled, “you just charged down to face me figuring fate and that sword would save you.”

  “Sort of,” he replied, rocking his head side to side. “I actually figured there was a good chance you'd kill me.”

  “Then why did you do it?”

  “Alena put this bad guilt trip on me about me getting these kids killed if I didn't do it,” he answered. “She can be kind of a cow sometimes.”

  “What's a cow?”

  “That doesn't matter,” he replied, shaking his head. “The point is that I couldn't not try after her little pep talk.”

  “What children were you supposed to get killed?”

  “I'd rather not say.”

  “Alright,” she nodded. “Well how would not attacking me have gotten them killed?”

  “It's a long story,” he replied. “But their parents don't want them harvested.”

  “Oh,” she sighed. “I guess I can understand that, but everyone has to do their part. We all have to work together.”

  “Giving up your children is not working together,” he scowled. “And let's not talk about that. I'm trying hard to understand your point of view, but I can only go so far.”

  “I understand,” she nodded. “If you really are from Earth our world must seem very strange to you.”

  “I am,” he replied. “And it is. At least, parts of it are.”

  “Either way,” she continued, “attacking me saved them?”

  “Well,” he said, taking a deep breath,
“killing you is supposed to help.”

  “Then why haven't you done it?” she asked.

  The young man turned to look her in the face. Her expression seemed open, honest, and sincerely curious.

  “Several reasons,” he chuckled.

  “Well I'd have killed you immediately,” she replied.

  “I'm sure,” he nodded. “In fact, you tried to.”

  “That was different,” she smiled. “You were attacking me. It wasn't so much that I was trying to kill you, as it was we were trying to kill each other.”

  “I guess I see that,” he said, nodding his head with a smile.

  “But I mean after that,” she continued. “If our situations had been reversed I'd have killed without hesitation.”

  “Well sure...”

  “So why didn't you?”

  “Okay,” he replied. “The initial reason was simply the fact that you were disarmed and you looked frightened.”

  “I wasn't frightened!”

  “I didn't say you were,” he pointed out. “I said you looked frightened. And you did. Keep in mind that you couldn't see your face and I could.”

  “Alright,” she ceded. “I looked frightened. Why didn't you kill me after that?”

  “I sincerely doubt you'd understand.”

  “Are you trying to be condescending or do you just have a natural talent for it?”

  “I'm meant exactly what I said,” he replied. “But I'll try either way. After my initial decision not to kill you I realized you weren't any immediate danger to us...”

  “Yes I am!”

  “Well I ain't arguing that point,” he replied. “Let's just say I'm stupid and that I don't see you as a threat.”

  “Alright.”

  “Where I come from you don't just kill people based on rumors and hearsay. You may kill someone in a fight, just like we each came close to doing, but you don't slaughter them once the fight's over. We have a trial so the person can defend themselves against the charges. After all, I had no way of knowing whether or not what I'd heard about you was true.”

  “It probably was,” she replied. “I've killed a lot of people over the years. I don't even remember how many. Hundreds though, I'm sure. So, based on that, do you plan to kill me now?”

  “I wouldn't say plan,” he replied. “It depends on a number of factors.”

 

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