by Robe
“Nonsense,” Auric said. “We will leave you these quarters, they will be paid for tonight. My companions and I must discuss our next move. If you encounter any trouble, yell. We’re just across the hall.”
“Thank you, Auric. And thank you Dalk and Reon. You got there just in time,” Thraun said. He was still shaken from the ordeal. Kassidy forced a smile.
Auric nodded and left the room, followed by his companions. They regrouped back in one of the quarters they had rented the previous night.
“We have done a great thing tonight,” Auric said. “Dalk and Reon were able to protect two innocent people who would have otherwise been killed. Argain is afraid of us, that much is clear, and he will likely try to mask his presence.”
“So, is there a plan other than wasting the day with idle waiting now?” Joan asked.
“More than ever, we must be vigilant,” Auric countered, “but perhaps wandering about in daylight is not the best option. Argain is clearly more active by night. In fact, every one of his attacks has been during the night. Tomorrow, we will visit every tavern in Abelenst and recover what information we can about the comings of strangers. I think we’ve earned some rest. Sleep well, my friends, the worst may be yet to come.”
15
By the time the sun had risen, each member of the group was up, with the exception of Reon. Dalk browsed the market as the stall owners opened their businesses and the morning dew still rested gently on the leaves of trees that lined the middle of each street. It was the first time in Abelenst Dalk was focused on the scenery and not the face of every passerby. Truly, it was a beautiful civilization, with each building made of brick, stone, and wood instead of the simpler and less permanent homes in Lon Gairdas. He found a stall manned by a young woman in a yellow apron with a bandana that kept her hair out of her eyes. She sold him two dozen pastries held in warmth by a small stove next to her stall. Content with his purchase, Dalk was ready to head back, but a delicious smell completely overturned his decision, and he redirected himself to another stall where a man was frying ham for travelers on the go. Dalk bought a decent-sized serving for each of his party members, and two more for Thraun and Kassidy. The man was hearty and thanked him generously for the purchase. With a nod, Dalk turned and headed back to The Solid Coin.
-
“Dalk, you shouldn’t have,” Auric said when Dalk returned with mass amounts of food in his arms, but a blind man could have seen the gleam in his eyes.
“My treat,” Dalk said, setting the boxes he carried on a table. He went to fetch the others from the separate room, and together, the group feasted on rich food that satisfied their appetites thoroughly. When Thraun and Kassidy awoke, Dalk delivered them their portions, and they tried to decline, claiming the offer was far too generous to accept. Dalk plainly stated the servings he purchased for them would just run cold and stale, a pitiful waste, really. After that, the pair could not refuse and thanked him abundantly.
Auric drew out the plans for the day; Veese, Reon, and Kandon would remain at The Solid Coin to watch over the place in case of an attack. Auric and Joan were to take the taverns on the northern side of the commercial area while Dalk and Ziem investigated on the southern side.
-
“Auric thinks me frail,” Veese said as he sat with Reon and Kandon in the lounging area of The Solid Coin. “Am I not useful in this quest? Or has my value been exhausted?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Reon said. “He’s just trying to give your injury time to heal. I wouldn’t believe all this running around we’re doing has made it better.”
“Yes, well,” Veese responded, “if we continue to cater to my nonexistent needs, it may cost us our opportunity to end this matter without more bloodshed.”
Reon wanted to pat Veese on the back, but he feared he would either offend the unusual individual or be attacked by him. Instead, he looked over to Kandon, who sat with his hat tipped down over his face as if he were sleeping. “What about you, Kandon?” Reon asked. “It’s nice having you around, but just out of curiosity, why exactly are you here?”
“I thought that would be obvious,” Kandon replied from beneath his hat without moving.
“A shot at Joan?” Reon asked.
“Hah!” Kandon said, leaning forward and pushing his hat back. “Despite my foolhardy appearance, I, too, care about the outcome of this world. How could I survive with no one to harass?”
“Ah,” Reon chuckled. “Well, it is comforting having you with us.”
“I do not take your acceptance of me lightly, Reon,” Kandon said, and he leaned back, letting his hat slide back down over his face.
“Another day spent uselessly,” Joan said as she and Auric left a tavern named The Iron Kettle. All day they had been entering pub after pub, questioning each bartender they met, and for nothing. “Argain is being too quiet for these people to notice him. They’re all too interested in their own doings.”
Auric chuckled. “It’s the best we’ve got for now. We only need a clue, a hint as to where he’s holed up. Have you been working on your newfound talent?”
“Here and there,” Joan replied. “I can propel water from my hands at a force strong enough to knock a man over.”
“How, may I ask, have you tested that?” Auric inquired.
“I was trying to levitate several perfect spheres of water above me, and without any luck. They dropped onto my head. Kandon started howling like he was in front of the royal entertainers, so I decided to see just how powerful I was.”
Auric laughed and turned into an alleyway between two buildings. “He is self-serving, that one.”
Joan stopped just a few feet into the dark, narrow passage and looked at him. “What?” she asked, her face confused as she tried to decide whether or not she’d heard him correctly.
“He thinks only of himself. He is a mercenary,” Auric elaborated, halting to stand beside her.
“How can you say a man who eased medicine down your throat when you were too ill to take it yourself is self-serving and still act as though you’re knowledgeable on the matter?” Joan asked briskly, her cheeks starting to glow pink in her defense of Kandon.
“Well, I can judge your character pretty well,” Auric said in an oily sort of way Joan had never heard from him, a tone she didn’t think he was even capable of producing. Smiling, he leaned in toward her.
“Auric, what are you doing?” Joan demanded, looking down either end of the alley.
“There’s nothing to it,” Auric said, and he moved even closer to her.
“Auric, you’re making a fool of yourself,” Joan said, blushing at his sudden impulsiveness.
Auric did not relent and backed her against the wall of the alley. One of his hands found her thigh while a finger from the other swirled her blonde hair. His touch sent a shudder up her spine, and her fingers balled into untinentially moistened fists. When he went as far as to put his lips on her neck, she uncurled the digits of her right hand and struck him across the face with her watery palm.
The smack seemed to echo out through the dark and quiet, and Auric’s grip on her leg vanished. He stepped away and let her pass. Humiliated, Joan did not dare make eye contact with him as she hurried to widen the gap. When they exited the alley, there was no mention of what had occurred within.
-
“Excuse me, bartender,” Dalk said, causing the older man behind the bar to turn and look at him. He had an extremely wrinkled face and a short, white beard tipped his chin.
Dalk and Ziem had been in every bar, shop, and stall along their path, asking each individual manning the establishment if they had noticed any strange goings-on. Having left behind a trail of head shakes and apologies, the two were hardly hopeful when they’d entered the establishment in which they stood, Ziem’s hood pulled over his eyes to cover his appearance. Dalk warned him that he was going to draw more attention that way, but that didn’t make Ziem lower the concealing cloth.
“Pardon me,” Dalk said. “I wanted to know if I c
ould ask you a few questions.”
“Go ahead,” the bartender said, running a towel along the inside of a flagon.
“We are searching for a man not of this civilization and are wondering if you have seen him,” Dalk began to ask the same question he’d asked a dozen times earlier that day over the droning of the other customers. “He has dark hair, of average height, he’s younger. He acts as though he’s very important.”
Before the bartender could reply, the air was knocked from Dalk’s chest, and he felt himself being thrown backwards to land painfully on his back. He pushed himself off the floor and realized there was a dark substance covering the front of his tunic.
“Convenient that my target should come wandering to me,” a man announced, hopping down from one of the bar stools. He pulled his hood off, revealing rugged, dark hair and watery, malevolent eyes. At the collar of his cloak, the lip of an armor breastplate could be seen, and Dalk noted he was wearing heavy protection beneath his garb. Some of the nearby people gasped as they saw his face, and he lifted his hand and launched another stream of malleable, ashen substance at Dalk, forcing him out of the tavern.
Dalk reached for his sword and pulled it free, and when he looked for Ziem to tell him to go for help, he saw no sign of the boy. Dalk watched as the man strolled through the tavern doorway, grinning.
“My master has grown weary of your interfering,” the man said and threw yet another torrent of sludge at Dalk. This time, Dalk leapt to the side, evading the attack. The man laughed loudly, the kind of laugh that seemed to come less from amusement than joyfulness. “My name is Balanch, and I am your undoing.”
Around Dalk, the people of Abelenst had either become frightened or interested and began scurrying aside as Balanch’s attacks splashed about. Dalk focused on the stranger approaching him and raised his own hand. A swirl erupted from his palm and fingers and flew straight toward Balanch in a light-colored cloud, but another burst of sludge ripped through the mist.
“If that is the best you can do, then my work will be short,” Balanch said, and he charged at Dalk. He was faster than he looked, especially considering the armor he was toting, and he drew his sword to meet Dalk’s. Dalk blocked the first attack and strafed the second one. His adrenaline running high, Dalk slashed back with a strike of his own. The larger sword smashed Balanch’s more average blade aside and clipped him, slicing through the cloth of Balanch’s cloak, but not getting past his armor.
Balanch struck again, and again, the speed and velocity of his blows outlasting Dalk’s ability to defend himself. Just when Dalk was about to throw himself aside to dodge the next attack, Balanch stumbled, and Dalk instead leapt forward. The edge of his blade closest to the tip bounced off of the villain’s armor, and Dalk staggered to regain his balance. Such a futile attempt would have brought shame to the men who had trained Dalk to use a sword. During Dalk’s recovery and split second of self-reflection, his adversary let forth a spray of muck, blinding the hero.
His opponent vulnerable, Balanch kicked out, knocking Dalk to the ground. He kicked again, but Dalk grabbed the man’s ankle and employed a wave of cold so bitter Balanch jerked free and recoiled in pain. Pushing himself to his feet and wiping his face, Dalk saw Veese, Reon, and Kandon approaching. He told himself he wouldn’t waste the second chance the New World had given him.
“Ah! Your friends have arrived,” Balanch said, recovering from Dalk’s last attack. “Let the real fun begin.” Balanch raised both arms slowly on either side of him, and behind his cloaked form rose a dark cloud of what looked like smoke. It encircled both Dalk and his allies, and Balanch stepped backward, disappearing into the veil of his own making.
Reon ran up alongside Dalk. “Are you alright?” he asked, looking around at the walls of gas surrounding them.
“Careful,” Dalk said, his eyes jumping from side to side as he raised his sword in front of him.
Reon held both of his palms upright and formed fireballs above them. Kandon pulled a knife from his belt, and Veese drew his blade, a very thin, elegant weapon that looked more suitable for a woman. The four men backed toward each other, forming a defensive circle in which they could not be attacked from behind. Several impregnated moments passed before they realized that beneath their feet, a black gunk was forming to lock their shoes in place.
“Move!” Kandon shouted and jumped soon enough to escape the encasing semi-solid. Dalk and Reon also managed to get free, but Veese’s boots were too deep in the sludge. Suddenly, Balanch appeared out of the haze, and with a flurry of quick attacks, he easily disarmed Kandon. Lunging forward, he punched the tracker, sending him through the wall of fog.
Balanch turned, and a fireball exploded on his cloak, sending the fabric ablaze. Snarling, he tore off his dark garb, revealing a light, yet effective, suit of shiny, silver armor, the likes of which none of the companions had ever seen. Balanch charged forward, easily stepping through the black sludge even with Reon hurling fire at him. He weaved past Reon’s fire, and as he drew near, Dalk engaged him again.
“Do you not tire?” Balanch taunted as his and Dalk’s swords clanked together at differing trajectories to cancel out one another’s attacks. With each strike, Dalk found his strength waning and Balanch’s tireless assault more difficult to stave off. Even though he’d clearly not been trained with a blade, the power of Balanch’s reckless attacks was testing even Dalk’s wall-like defense.
Reon was unsure what to do, but he certainly didn’t want to hit Dalk with a fireball. He ignited another blaze in his hand but waited, holding the attack for an opening in the battle. A slushy feeling at his feet alerted Reon that the muck was progressing as if in search of a captive to hold, and he had to stumble backwards to avoid the goop. When he looked up, he saw Dalk had momentarily pushed Balanch back, but the chance had been ruined by the advancement of the sludge.
Veese briskly undid the ties on his boots just enough to slip his feet out of them, leaping away from the ooze. There was little not infected by the black substance, and as it spread, Veese’s options ran thin. Unfortunately, the nearest jump was much too far away for him, especially considering his injury. And yet, the muck proceeded. Veese’s gut screamed at him to try, so he did. For a moment, Veese was certain he would fall into the grime and meet the fate this new opposer chose, and he watched the approaching ground as he fell toward it… and then it stopped getting closer. The smoke around him swirled wildly, and he felt something under him, lifting him. He panicked at first, but then calm washed over him, and he realized that like Ziem, Reon, Dalk, and Joan, he, too, was gifted. Gently, he hovered to the nearest patch of bare pavement and landed. His shoes were gone, but he no longer felt a need for them. His ankle throbbed painfully, and when he placed weight on his foot, it did not feel as it should have. Blocking out his pain, he looked around to find anything that he could do to help his companions now that he was so far away.
Turning to face the wall of fumes that blocked his way, Veese placed his hand out before him. At his will, the fog parted, revealing Auric, Joan, and Ziem appearing overwhelmed by what was occurring before them.
Ziem ran past Veese into the now-broken circle of gas and, upon seeing Dalk thrown down by a blow from Balanch, released a bolt of electricity at the man. At the same time, Reon hurled a fireball directly at their adversary. An ear-splitting crack rang out as Ziem’s lightning met Balanch’s unnatural armor, and as the combined forces struck the man, he was sent tumbling.
After a moment, Balanch groaned and looked up from his position on the ground. With a glare on his face, he watched the group of people trying to make their way toward him around the smoke and muck. More sludge sprouted from the ground, blocking off the companions’ access to him and even forcing them to retreat.
“We will meet again at a different time,” Balanch shouted. “This battle has not concluded, and I will focus on nothing else until it does!” Throwing his cloak behind him, he turned and vanished back through the fog.
-
>
The stars shone brightly as the party huddled together in one of their rented rooms at The Solid Coin. It was cold, much colder than the previous night. The only warmth came from the candles scattered around the room and, of course, Reon’s ever-toasty presence. After ensuring none of the innocent civilians had been harmed, the group had shifted away from the scene where the battle with Balanch had taken place. They had gathered that the man who called himself Balanch was actually Kule Teratome, the son who’d gone missing after the Great Mill had burned.
“So, Argain is not only killing innocent civilians, but also corrupting them to his ways,” Auric said. “Our situation is more dire now than ever.”
“One woman I talked to said that Kule was always a quiet, respectful man, never one to harm another,” Joan spoke. She’d spent extra time with the people who had witnessed the battle to ensure it was clear that she and her allies were not the aggressors, and that they need not be feared. It was important to all of them that they were not seen as threats to the civilians.
“Perhaps Argain did brainwash him,” Kandon said, “making Kule believe he owed the Evil God something.” Kandon had suffered a hard blow during the battle and had to be patched up by the Abelenst healer, but the injury didn’t appear significant enough to keep him on the sidelines.
“He referred to Argain as his master,” Dalk said. “He’s either very confused or very stupid.”
“And what of his abilities?” Joan asked. “He was powerful.”
“He was not good with a sword, but his strength and speed did not match his stature,” Dalk said. “Even as I began to tire, he was still at full strength.”
“Yes,” Joan said. “We all saw what happened when both Ziem and Reon hit him. He barely fell.”
“We must exercise more caution,” Auric said. “Not only do we have two villains to watch for, but now there’s the chance others will be lurking somewhere, should Argain find more victims. However, there is a bright side to this encounter. Veese has discovered he is gifted like the rest of you.”