by JD Franx
“Shh! Don’t move,” Kael hushed, as he struggled to maintain his concentration. She did as he asked and he let out a sigh of relief, placing his hands to the collar.
Kael repeated the same process that freed Giddeon from the sadistic collar and its effects. The collar cracked and the four spikes dissolved, leaving behind no permanent damage. Knowing that Saleece was more than she appeared to be, Kael pulled one of the blowgun darts from his Orotaq cloak and stuck it in her neck.
“You bastard, how could y...” she cursed, but slumped over out cold before she could finish her sentence.
In a desperate attempt to help her, Giddeon struggled to stand, yelling at Kael. “You son of a bitch, what did you do to her? You promised you...”
“Easy, Giddeon,” Kael warned as he stood and used his right foot to push Giddeon back against the tent. Too weak to hold against the light thrust, the impact knocked the ArchWizard back to the ground. “I stuck her with a sleep dart, nothing more. I don’t trust you to keep your word. You might feel that you’re defending your kingdom, but you’ll find my life not so easy to take. I’ll make sure the Taktala watch over you and allow you to leave when you wake. I’m afraid I’m going to have put you to sleep as well,” Kael explained, as he jabbed the dart into Giddeon’s neck and watched him slide into sleep, joining his daughter.
“Anyone else inside that prisoner tent you were in?” Kael asked Kyah, as he stood and cast his eyes over the camp.
“Yes, two others, but they have no collars. I guess they have no magic, warriors probably. One is awake, but the other was whipped and beaten senseless.” Kael checked his Orotaq cloak and found several darts still stuck in the fur and cured leather so he handed her two and nodded towards the tent.
“Be a sweetheart and stick them with these darts while I talk to the Taktala, if I can.”
She smiled and left, calling back over her shoulder. “Anything for you, my love, you know that.”
Kael approached the still murmuring tribesmen, examining every last warrior for signs of aggression. When he saw nothing but fear, he clapped his hands together to get their attention.
“Listen to me. Do any of you speak the common tongue?”
One warrior stood, slowly. Once waved forward, he stepped up to Kael, still trembling with fear or awe. “I, Bala Takma,” the tribal warrior said. “I have little common speak.”
“Can you understand our tongue?” Kael questioned.
The warrior nodded. “Understand, have little,” he said.
“We are leaving this place, Bala Takma, but these people,” Kael said, as he pointed to Giddeon and Saleece, “must be allowed to leave when they wake. You will not harm them and you will not take them as slaves, do you understand?” Again, the forest native only nodded, but seemed to understand. To be sure, Kael pulled both reaper-blades from the sheaths on his back; they rasped with a dull whisper as they slid against the scaled dragon skin. Bala Takma’s eyes tripled in size as he began to shake even more. “If anything should happen to them, Bala, I will return and bring Sarak to all the Taktala, you understand?” He crossed the large blades over his chest and bowed. Bala bowed back, as low as he could get before looking up at Kael for permission to resume standing.
Once Kael nodded, the scout leader stood. “Friends safe, Bala be safe, Taktala be safe, yes.” Now positive he understood, Kael nodded as he felt Kyah’s presence return to his side.
“What now, handsome? North to the Dwarven Mountains? That is weeks of travel, months on foot.” He nodded. With so many miles ahead of them, he watched as she began to scavenge for supplies, starting with Grodin’s two hired killers.
Kael joined her. “If there’s some tablet up there with knowledge about my kind, then yes. North, I guess. Hopefully we can find horses somewhere. Long ways on foot, I imagine,” he pointed out. She huffed as she dug through the travel packs, adding what she found to their own meagre supplies.
“Check Grodin. See if he has any gold on him. Horses are expensive even if tribals decide to sell to a death god,” she added. Kael spun on his heel and headed towards the rack where he had left Grodin a crumpled pile of twitching pain, but stopped dead when he noticed the little man was gone.
“That might be a problem, Kyah. Grodin’s gone.” Puzzled, his eyes scanned the camp, the bushes, and the forest around them, but Grodin was nowhere to be seen. Kael closed his eyes and focused his esoteric sight, but he couldn’t sense Grodin either.
“He wandered off?” Kyah asked.
“Yes,” Kael replied, frowning. “He’s headed south, deeper into the forest. Leave him be.”
“No. If he gets back to Sythrnax, he will tell him everything. Sythrnax and his forces will know exactly where we are going. They will try to capture us again.” Kael listened to her words as he chewed his bottom lip and stared south into the forest.
“How bad are the tribes further south?”
“I would guess they would respond to you the same way these men did. Grodin cannot have gone far, Kael...”
“No,” he said turning back to her. “We need every bit of head start we can get. Too many things could go wrong. If Giddeon wakes earlier than we expect from the sleep darts or if we come across other tribals and they’re not afraid... We’ll have to hope Grodin gets lost or the forest finishes him—I can’t sense him and I’m not a tracker. We have to go. Giddeon will come after us the moment his people are able.”
Kyah nodded and put her arm around his waist. He didn’t object. Ember was gone and everything inside him was numb. The smallest part of him wanted to believe the dream was real, that she was alive. In his heart, he knew he’d been grasping at the threads of desperation. He shook his head. All he wanted to do was keep moving to the north and hopefully to some answers.
Chapter Seven
“The Fae and the Dyrannai Elvehn have been the closest of allies for thousands of years. So close, in fact, some of the Elvehn eventually learned how to use magic known only to the Fae. These select individuals are capable of casting both types of magic and have a deep understanding of their own emotions—the place from where the Fae draw their magical power. Now that the Fae are extinct, there will be less and less Elvehn born every year who are able to use this incredible gift. Even so, I still hope these skills survive far into the future.”
Author unknown From pages found
in the Ancient Library of the Arcane, 5015 PC
Original work dated at over ten thousand years.
WILDLANDS NORTHERN FOREST
After leaving the Taktala camp, Kael and Kyah pushed hard, running off and on for close to six hours in an attempt to leave Giddeon and his group far behind. Always moving north, Kael was nearly asleep on his feet when they came across a ten-foot-wide creek formed by a waterfall spilling from a wide crack in the ridge above them, some twenty feet up. The falling water created a pond at the base of the small rise before it flowed lazily downhill. Kael stumbled to the edge, dropping to his knees. Scooping up the water in both hands, he splashed his face, washing away the blood, sweat, and grime.
The moment the water touched his face he spit, shaking his head. “The water’s warm. Is it safe?”
“I know not,” Kyah said, joining him at the edge. “You should be able to tell. Use your senses, feel the water flow through your fingers, and let your magic tell you if it’s safe.”
Even exhausted, Kael could sense something different about the water. He released his mind and let it enter the running stream. As his head tipped sideways and his body slumped onto the damp grass, his mind was already far away, chasing the creek upstream to the pond below the small waterfall. From there, he raced against the flow of the cascading water up the rock into the wide rent that allowed the warm current to rush forth. Drawn deep into the earth, his consciousness unexpectedly slammed into the raw force of a thundering underground river; locked into the sensitivity of his magic, he panicked at the devastating power and felt his control slip.
Desperation clawed at his m
ind as the river’s raw fury pulled and pushed at his consciousness, trying to sweep him away. Panic overruled common sense, and he inhaled. Water flooded his lungs. Flashes of heat and molten rock fuelled his frenzied state further as he screamed, but instead, his head was snapped around, twisting his neck. The pain pushed the fear back and Kyah’s voice filtered through only seconds before his tortured lungs drew in the sweetest air he had ever tasted.
Choking on the mix of fresh air and warm water, his presence snapped back into his body with a violent jolt, just as Kyah slapped him. Eyes still wild with fear and panic, Kael heaved and coughed, expelling water from his lungs. Warm water and strings of bloody saliva sprayed from his mouth, soaking Kyah from chin to belly.
“Sorry,” Kael said. He groaned, coughing a second time and hacking more water from his lungs. “God in heaven, why does this shit keep happening to me?” He moaned and rolled to his hands and knees, expelling more water from the underground river.
Fighting her own fear, Kyah thumped his back, stuttering. “I... I am sorry, Kael. I was not thinking. I knew you were tired, but I did not know such a thing could happen. Has it before?”
Sitting back up, he nodded and cleared his throat, trying his best to suppress the urge to cough the dull burn from his throat and lungs. The memory of the last time he physically left his body was fresh in his mind.
“Yes, when Lycori and I were in the northern mountain pass between Cethos and Yusat, this happened. I left my body and drifted through the pass, miles away. It’s how we discovered Giddeon was chasing us. I could hear them speak, but I couldn’t talk to them and there was no physical connection like this.” He wheezed, his lungs still burned from the invasion of water. “What would cause this? I almost drowned. I thought it was real. Why?” He gasped, still trying to catch his breath.
“I know not. Projecting your spirit away from your body like that is far beyond my knowledge. Spirit magic is only practiced by necromancers and the tribal witch doctors from this forest. It is very dangerous, Kael. You must be careful from now on. If I were not here, you would have drowned. Somehow, you are able to leave your body behind and walk in the physical world with your spirit... or perhaps your soul, depending on your beliefs. But the physical connection to your body must mean it can still suffer the effects of your spirit’s surroundings.” He could see she was still distressed and shaking from the close call. He stared at her hopelessly, but said nothing.
“Come,” she offered, helping him up. “Let’s get cleaned up. We haven’t had warm water in months. It is safe, is it not?”
Gaining his feet, Kael stumbled, but caught himself before falling without too much effort. “The water comes from deep in the earth. I could see molten rock, so it might not taste the best, but should be safe to bathe in.” He took Kyah’s hand and she headed upstream to the deeper water of the pool. “Maybe I can do something with this rat’s nest on my head,” Kael mumbled, referring to the knotted, tangled mess of hair that hadn’tt seen a brush or shampoo in almost half a year.
“I agree,” Kyah said, adding her support. “We cannot show up in Dasal looking like we do, or we will be turned away. One of the kinrai blades from my waist whip will work for you to shave and cut your hair.” Arriving at the pool below the waterfall, Kael and Kyah shed their clothes before sliding into the warm water. Far beyond exhausted from the day’s events, it was all Kael could do to stay awake, at times failing to do that as he floated on his back in the chest deep water. The magma-heated spring, high in mineral content, eased the pains from the shipwreck and the lingering effects from the months of torture he suffered prior to their escape.
He woke with a start as the caress of something soft slid across his chest. Kyah smiled as his eyes found her in the water beside him. With a fist-sized ball of purple moss in her hand, she washed away months of sweat and grime. It tingled his skin, easing away even more of the agony and stress that always seemed to be weighing on him.
“Turrin moss,” she said softly, seeing his confusion. “It will ease some of your pain and allow you to relax.” Too exhausted to speak, he nodded as she slid under him, placing his head on her shoulder as she continued to rub the ball of moss over the rest of his sore muscles. A faint purple residue remained on his skin for several seconds before his body absorbed it. The magical properties calmed his mind and eased away his worries, just as she said they would. Once she finished, he returned the favour. Clean and relaxed, they floated in the pond for an hour before swimming to the waterfall where they stood underneath it, letting the water wash away any leftover grime and turrin moss. Kael couldn’t believe the dark streaks of filth than ran downstream from where ever they stood. Then they gathered their ragged clothes and washed them as well, before heading into the cave system behind the waterfall.
The ten-foot-high ceiling in the unoccupied cave gave them excellent shelter from the elements and allowed a small fire to burn, the smoke dissipating as it rose through the crashing water of the falls. The long nights of the Wildland Forest could get cool enough to be uncomfortable. After a quick bite of food stolen from the Taktala tribe, Kyah offered to cut Kael’s hair. Exhausted from using magic that was well beyond his ability, he didn’t object, sitting cross-legged in front of her. She ran her fingers through his hair, untangling the mess as best she could.
“We have not a lot of options here, love,” she said, smiling. “Your hair has grown a lot since I met you. Even knotted like this, it is still well past your shoulders. You want me to shave it all off or spin it into Salzaran braids?”
“Sal...what?” he asked. Half asleep, he wasn’t sure he heard her right.
“I will never get the tangles and knots out, Kael. I can spin thin strands of your hair into tiny dreadlocks and then braid them if you like? Or we can shave your head. The braids will allow you to fit in better; a shaved head may make you stand out. A lot of male wizards shave their heads. It may draw attention to us.”
“Do the braids then, I guess. Though people are more likely to notice these barbed vines everywhere on my skin long before they notice a shaved head.”
Kyah frowned, as she removed one of the small blades from the whip she wore around her waist. “At a glance, your markings look like tattoos, nothing more, and many Northmen wear their hair like this. You are a bit small after losing so much weight, but you could pass for a Northman, especially if we shave the sides of your head. It will keep people from staring and will stop curious questions when we arrive in towns or cities. People are afraid of the Northmen and go out of their way to leave them alone. It will be good, Kael.”
“All right, whatever makes people look anywhere but us.” The kinrai blade gently scraped across the skin above his ear and a chunk of ratty hair fell in his lap. He shivered and pulled his cloak tighter as Kyah worked to make his appearance somewhat civil. The last hair from the shaved sides of his head fell, and he felt her hands begin to spin the rest of the frazzled mess into thin strands that she could braid.
With only his Orotaq cloak and a single blanket, nights were going to be cold and miserable in the forest. He no longer even had a shirt; the one he wore when he arrived had been destroyed long ago. The leather pants he found in Jasala’s tower were torn in a few places and still damp, but were no longer caked in salt from their time in the ocean. The soft leather boots, also from Jasala’s hidden room deep inside her ruined tower, were still in perfect condition, but he knew it was the enchantments. No matter how much weight his travel pack was loaded down with, his feet never ached because of the strange footwear.
They both had planned on taking the clothes found on board the stolen vessel, but the shipwreck happened so fast, he never had time to grab anything. Kyah still wore the white bodice and skirt he found in the captain’s cabin, and though it was stained everywhere, the supple white leather still looked like it was brand new. He was beginning to think there might be more to it than might meet the eye, as well. Oddly enough, the curve-hugging outfit often seemed to catch his ey
es, even though he wished it wouldn’t. There was so much about Talohna that he did not understand and his knowledge of it didn’t seem to grow fast enough in relation to what he was discovering.
The lack of understanding tripping around his thoughts jogged his memory, and he remembered the letter and potion bottles he found in Jasala’s hidden suite, deep below her tower so long ago. Realizing months had passed since he’d had the chance to read her letter, he sat by the fire with his travel pack between his legs and dug around inside until he found them. Kyah continued to work on his hair as he set the small potion bottles aside. Kael sensed that they caught Kyah’s eye, but he was focused on the letter in the hope that rereading the first page would enlighten him, at least a little, to the secrets of his magical lineage.
The moment he put the paper to his heart, he knew it was a waste of time. He had yet to acquire the power needed to read it. Desperate, he opened the second letter anyway, and stared at it, his frustration rising. Like before, it was written in gibberish he didn’t understand. Refolding it he put it back in his travel pack. Kyah was still staring at the three bottles when she started to braid the spun lengths of his hair. He picked them up and held them tight while he closed his eyes. With his outer sight much stronger than it had ever been, he focused in an attempt to see what was inside, but the glass bottles prevented his magic from penetrating, leaving him as clueless and as frustrated as before.
“What are those?” Kyah asked, the gentle tugs from her braid-work moving his head back and forth as he tried to concentrate on the bottles.
“Some things I found when I first arrived, why?”
“Those bottles, what do they say?”
“The first says B.B. Purge, and the second two both say Fae’s Dreamwalk. Why? Have you heard of either?” he asked, turning to look at her. A frown of concern washed across her face, and Kael thought a flush of red coloured her cheeks, but the campfire also danced across her features and he couldn’t be sure.