Halcyon Rising: Breaking Ground

by Stone Thomas

  “What were you doing there?” he asked.

  “My girlfriend and I went for a drink,” I said. “As I said, we’re not from here, so we didn’t realize until we sat down to our table that the place was filled with undesirables.”

  “Did one of those undesirables look like this?” the guard said, handing me a patch of parchment with a drawing of Blade on it.

  “Mean eyes, sour face, unkempt. They all looked like this,” I said.

  “Bring Sally forth,” the man said, waving a hand toward the other guards. A woman walked over to join us while I waited for the shop keeper to keep filling our cart. Soon, we could high tail it out of here.

  “What do we have,” the woman asked. She wore a pointy hat with a wide brim, but she had all the terseness of a detective.

  “Grippersnout last night,” the guard said. “Let’s see what he knows.”

  The woman’s eyes glazed over until her irises and her pupils were lost in solid whiteness.

  “Tell me everything that happened last night, starting with the Grippersnout,” Sally said.

  I didn’t want to. I really didn’t want to. But she had some kind of power over me. I was magically compelled to tell her the truth.

  “Cindra — she’s made of slime — came with me inside and we went looking for Blade specifically. I wanted to offload some jewels, he called them energems, but I don’t have papers for them. Not because they’re stolen! I didn’t steal anything. I just wanted money. So Cindra offered to sleep with him, and he liked that idea, but I said no. Cindra’s too beautiful to have sex with that monster, and to be honest, I’d have been a little jealous.”

  My face was red, my heart was beating a mile a minute, and it was only getting worse. “So instead I offered to use my skillmeister powers. Made him a lot stronger, like a whole lot, and improved a skill called Throatcut, which sounds awful. Did you know his real name is Percival Pimpleton? How cringeworthy is that? It’s like, the worst name for a human being ever.

  “Then we went to the inn, and the woman at the front counter was a twat, which is a terrible thing to say, and not a word I’d use at all, except I can’t help speak my mind right now, it’s the strangest thing. Anyway, then Cindra offered to keep me warm at night – if you catch my drift – and I should have said yes, because, I mean, have you seen her? She’s smoking hot, and her skin is all soft like flower petals, and I really wanted to do it but I didn’t, but next time I will. Then I fell asleep and didn’t kill anyone, I promise.”

  The woman’s eyes went back to normal and a wave of relief washed on top of the embarrassment I was already drenched with. Cindra rubbed my back while the guard and the woman talked to each other.

  “You,” the guard said, “are under arrest for unsanctioned skillmeistering, leading to the murder of a Valleyvale citizen by Throatcutting.”

  Strike three.

  “Cindra,” I said. “Stay with the donkey.”

  +14

  The guards cuffed my hands behind my back and pushed me through the town. I walked past the shops I had just spent a ton of gold coins in. The proprietors stood in their doorways, shaking their heads at me.

  The temple was just ahead. The head priest stood outside, then came running when she saw my face.

  “Guards!” Eranza yelled. “There may have been a mistake.”

  “No mistake,” one of the guards said. “We brought in a truth witch. He sang like a bird.”

  “He’s a head priest,” she said.

  “So what?” the lead guard asked.

  “So,” she said, “you can’t throw a head priest in jail. It would cause a diplomatic nightmare because it would break the Free City Pact that affords all head priests safe passage through the human lands. You’ll need to talk this over with the Mayor.”

  The guards let go of my arms, which were still shackled together. “Why does shit like this always happen on a Monday?” the guard asked.

  A man with a very formal-looking shirt walked out of the temple. It was buttoned from his neck down to three inches below the waistline where it hung untucked by design. Pink, purple, and gold tassels hung from his shoulders.

  “Can I not say a single prayer without this city devolving into emergency?” he asked. Two women stood just behind him wearing tall pointy hats like the truth witch’s. One hat was light blue, while the other was deep red. The women wore robes to match, and their faces were nearly identical: large, dark eyes framed by pretty, slender faces. The main difference was their expression. The girl in the red hat scowled while the blue-hatted one was all smiles.

  “We’re sorry, Mayor,” the guard said. “We have a skillmeister here who used his ability making Blade more dangerous.”

  “Is that who killed Scar this morning?” he asked.

  These gangsters needed to hire someone to come up with better names for them.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Did us all a favor then,” the Mayor said. “One less gang leader to contend with. How much did Blade pay you to increase his skills? Whatever it was, Scar was probably on his way to kill you and steal it all.”

  “I didn’t know he was going to kill anyone,” I said. “I’m new at this. I just became a head priest two days ago.”

  “And how, pray tell, did you manage that?” the Mayor asked.

  “Meadowdale was attacked,” I said. “I escaped and found a goddess in trouble, so I helped her.”

  “You escaped Meadowdale?” he asked. “No one escaped Meadowdale. We’ve been dying to know what happened.”

  “Maybe you could un-cuff me?” I asked. The Mayor waved at the guards and they released my hands from the iron shackles.

  “Duul, the god of war, has an army of dark soldiers. Their bodies and eyes are pitch black, like they’re made from evil itself, or maybe vegemite. Anyway, their weapons can kill the gods, and he’s going to conscript all of the world’s men into his ranks, and keep the women hostage, until he slays the Great Mother.”

  The Mayor and guards laughed at me. The head priest, however, did not. “He’s telling the truth,” she said. “At least, one version of it. As Gowes has reassured me, Duul isn’t coming here. Valleyvale is safe and always will be. Our walls are strong.”

  “Your walls are better than ours were,” I said, “but that’s not enough to stop this army. They’re strong, and cutthroat.”

  “Too soon,” the Mayor said. “We’re a little sensitive to that word today.”

  “We should listen to this man,” the blue clad witch said. “It wouldn’t hurt to prepare just in case, and the training exercises would be fun. Er, good for moral I mean.”

  The other girl simply said, “Yes.”

  “Lily, Ambry, we’re not buying into this nonsense,” the Mayor said. “And as for you, whatever your name is—”

  “Arden,” I said.

  “Arden. Get out of my city and never come back. I can’t arrest a head priest without causing a stir, but I can banish you. Now get.”

  The girl with the blue hat looked disheartened by that. I shrugged and turned around, making the long walk back to the provisioner’s shop. Cindra sat on the low fence just outside the store with her legs crossed. Her new dress stopped just above the knee. She was smoothing it out along her leg when I approached.

  “We’re all set,” I said. “I’ve only been banished, so I guess I got off easy.”

  “That’s a relief,” Cindra said. “Let’s go home.”

  Home. It was nice to think of it that way after spending so many years without one.

  We climbed into the cart and steered our donkey through the city’s massive front gates and into the forest beyond.

  “I killed that man,” I said.

  Cindra turned toward me. “Blade killed that man.”

  “I know it was his knife that cut Scar’s throat, but I gave him the tools to do it. I improved his Strength by nine points, and then improved a skill that multiplied combat damage when he attacked in exactly the way he did. I gave him hundre
ds of extra points’ worth of damage. If I hadn’t done that…”

  “Who knows?” Cindra said. “You did what you thought was right, to save me from going to bed with Blade just to get the coins we needed. If you knew Blade would kill that man, would you have done anything differently?”

  She was right. I had larger concerns than Valleyvale’s bandit wars. I wouldn’t let Blade hurt Cindra. I also wouldn’t let Nola get hurt, which meant I had to get the money for this gear. Just because Blade was a murderer didn’t mean he could make me one.

  “Thanks, Cindra.”

  The forest was quiet that morning. A few squirrels chittered in the trees, but that was all. The morning air was crisp and cool against my face, even if the driver’s seat of our little cart smelled like a donkey’s ass.

  Twice I had to stop the cart and chase after a cheese wheel that rolled away after we hit a bump, but other than that the ride was uneventful.

  Until it became eventful.

  We heard a shriek. “Aaaaah!”

  We heard men. “Take her!”

  We heard snakes. “Hisssssss.”

  Uh-oh.

  “Cindra,” I said, “I think Mamba’s in trouble.”

  “She knew it wasn’t safe out there,” Cindra said.

  “No,” I said, “I don’t think she really understood that. I saw Duul’s forces firsthand; it’s like nothing anyone’s seen before.

  “The low, guttural sound of those voices, it’s just like Duul’s fighters. I don’t think Mamba’s just in normal trouble. We have to help her.”

  Cindra adjusted the strap of her quiver. “Ready when you are.”

  I lashed the reins to the donkey cart and we tore off through the forest, following in the general direction of Mamba’s voice. When I saw her, fighting off two creatures shaped roughly like men hewn of pure shadow, I pulled the reins back and jumped from the cart.

  The dark warriors looked up at me. Cindra shot one with an arrow while I dug my new spear from the cart’s contents. I was dismayed to see that we were down one cheese wheel. It must have rolled away during our frantic chase through the woods.

  Somewhere, a squirrel was going to get very, very fat.

  I pulled Razortooth from the cart and pointed it toward one of the two monsters. Just like in Meadowdale, they had hulking black bodies with horns jutting out from their shoulders, elbows, and wrists. Their heads were solid spheres with no eyes, just a wide, gaping mouth littered with sharp teeth at inconsistent angles.

  Working for the god of war must have lousy dental.

  A black smog wafted from those dark creatures toward me. I felt it pulling me down, into a rage that came from nowhere. I fought against it while Cindra shot arrows at the monsters’ bodies. Her shots did little damage, likely because we hadn’t upgraded her archery skills yet. Still, each shot pushed the monsters back a few steps, buying me time to stave off the dark magic they exuded.

  Mamba tilted her head and watched as the fiends left her at the base of a tree and walked toward me. If their past behavior was any indication, they’d drag Cindra and Mamba back to some slave camp or other and turn me into a warmongering zombie. I wouldn’t let that happen, to any of us.

  I ran with my spear in hand toward the nearest of Duul’s foot soldiers. It lifted an arm and hooked my spear pole on one of its spikes, batting me to the side. As my arm turned out, my body continued toward the creature. I crashed into it headlong, forcing it to the ground.

  I wrenched my spear free and stood over the monster. I pointed the tip of Razortooth’s blade down. It could split a hair with one edge of its blade, but the serrated edge looked scarier.

  This creature was part of an assault on my people, my world, and the gods themselves. I wanted to destroy it. Still, I should have hesitated. Aside from its grotesque mouth and eyeless spherical head, it had a vaguely human shape to it. It felt like killing a person.

  I didn’t hesitate though. My throat opened up, releasing a roar that scratched at my insides as it clawed from my mouth. Hate, anger, and malice filled my mind from the black vapors in the air. I stabbed this monster through the chest and yanked my spear free again.

  The counterforce after pulling my weapon free forced me to stumble toward the second creature, which wrapped its arms around my chest and pinned my own arms down.

  “Mamba,” I said, struggling against the uncanny strength of this man-shaped monster. I seethed and spit as I thrashed against its hold on me. “Can you do something?”

  “I can dance,” she said. I sighed. She wasn’t going to be any help in her own rescue.

  Still pinned in place by that monster, I bent forward, lifting the creature onto my back.

  I hadn’t put enough points into my Strength attribute. I saw now the trouble with that. This thing, whatever it was made of, was heavy. It flattened me on the ground the second its feet were in the air. This did, however, knock the sword from its hand, so at least it would not do to me what I had just done to its companion.

  “I’m out of arrows already,” Cindra said. She was standing on the front of the donkey cart while the donkey himself chewed at the grass.

  Suddenly, a dozen snakes erupted from the soil beneath us. They swarmed the monsters and me, biting at our bodies while Mamba belly danced like a woman possessed.

  The creature on my back rolled off of me. I spun around before it could grab its sword from the ground and thrust Razortooth forward, activating Piercing Blow. The spear’s head sank into the dark creature’s torso. A thick, black ooze burst from its body and it fell to the ground.

  A snake wound up my leg while I wrestled with my spear, finally freeing it from the creature’s body.

  I plopped onto the ground, exhausted. Two pools of slick black sludge were all that remained of the magical humanoids. If they were Duul’s creations, they needed a name to suit their evil, bellicose nature. Like death-snarlers, or soulless-henches.

  “What were those things made of, tar?” Cindra asked.

  Mamba’s hips reduced to a slow roll as she continued to mesmerize her snakes. “What are you made of?” she asked.

  “Me?” I said. “Equal parts sweat and confusion right now. And she’s made of slime.” Cindra smiled and picked up her arrows one by one.

  “I’m made of blood and music,” Mamba said, “except when I’m not. Thank you for turning those cretins to sludge.”

  “Cretins,” Cindra said, “that’s a good name for them, whatever they were.”

  “I thought we might call them devil-skeezers,” I said.

  “I like cretin,” Cindra said. “It’s simple but fitting.”

  As Mamba stopped dancing, her snakes escaped into the underbrush. “Thank you for beatin’ the cretins, my little snakies!” Mamba said.

  Great, I thought, the name cretin stuck.

  “That’s an impressive skill,” Cindra said. “Your snakes were a nice help.”

  “Yeah, but why did they attack me?” I asked. “I was saving you!”

  “When I dance,” she said, “my mind is at one with the snakes. But not all of them. Some of them have a mind of their own. Those snakes must have wondered what you tasted like.”

  “Next time,” I said, “tell them I taste like rotten bananas and keep them off of me.”

  “Next time?” Mamba said. “When will that be?”

  “Listen,” I said, “those things that were trying to kidnap you are just the tip of the iceberg. My home was ravaged by those things. You can’t stay here.”

  “I can’t leave here either,” she said. “The human lands are icy toward elves, the elf lands are windy toward gypsies. The trees are warm. We like each other.” She got a dreamy look in her eye and stared off toward the clouds.

  “Mamba, darling,” Cindra said. “I’m going to need you to focus for a minute.”

  “Mmm?” she asked.

  “I can’t believe I’m saying this,” I said, “but you should come with us. We have food, and shelter. You can stay with us until you de
cide where you belong.”

  She didn’t look convinced.

  “Oh my,” Cindra said. “Ow, ow, ow!” She reached inside herself and removed the small pouch of jewels we had taken to Valleyvale. She tossed the bag to the ground, where the pull-string sack disintegrated before our eyes, leaving five clear stones behind. Heat rose from them, warping the light.

  The black sludge on the ground rippled and rolled toward the stones. It narrowed into a thin cord that leapt from the ground and dove into one of them, turning it a cloudy brown and then an impenetrable black. The stone sucked in all of that dire ooze until the forest floor was clean again. The other four gems sat where they were, clear and cool.

  I had cooled off too. Once the creatures had died, their evil smog dissipated, taking its magically induced anger and rage with it.

  Mamba bent over the stones and poked the black one with a stick. “How did you do that?” she asked.

  “I didn’t,” Cindra said. “We should ask Nola what she thinks.”

  “Nola is the goddess I serve,” I explained to Mamba. “I’m the head priest.”

  “Can I meet her?” she asked.

  “If you come to the temple with us,” I said.

  “I want to ride the donkey,” she said.

  “You’ll have to ask him,” I said. I was joking, but Mamba walked over to the animal and put her hands on his face. She pressed her forehead against his.

  “He said yes,” she said, “as long as I don’t summon any snakes. He didn’t like them.”

  “Um,” I said.

  “I’m kidding,” she said. “I can’t speak to donkeys. I’ll ride in the cart with you.”

  “It’s a two-seater,” I said.

  “Then we’ll squeeze,” she said.

  +15

  Vix sat in the middle of the path that led to the temple’s entrance, staring at her handiwork. She had created a beautiful stone door to cover the entrance to Nola’s temple.

  “Great work!” I called as we approached on our donkey cart.

  “I dunno,” she said, still staring. “I can’t tell if it’s level.”

  “There’s a level up joke in there somewhere,” I said, “but I can’t find it.”