by Andrew Day
Perhaps now, you might consider running, Narak suggested.
Serrel turned and fled.
“Victor, run!”
They didn’t bother to run to the stairs. Instead they ran to the edge of the tower, and jumped off as behind them Narak raised his arms over his head, and hurled the fireballs to the ground.
The stairs were fortunately only a metre or so below them, and the two dropped over the side of the tower and landed safely, just as the explosion ripped through the air overhead. Flames and superheated air washed over them as they ducked against the wall of the tower.
When the roar died down, Serrel looked up. He heard beating wings, just before Narak swooped back into view, circling around the tower.
I trust we will see each other again. Take care, Serrel.
Then the strange creature turned in the air, and flew off into the east, disappearing into the glare of the rising sun.
Victor groaned from his position on some steps lower down from Serrel. “What. The. Hell?”
“I don’t think you would believe me if I told you.”
Serrel cautiously rose to his feet, and climbed back up the stairs. He paused as his head rose above the level of the tower roof, and surveyed the damage. The top of the tower was blackened and smoking. All that remained of Vharaes was black ash, and a few barely identifiable bits of bone.
Serrel went back down, and sat on the steps next to Victor.
“You all right?”
“I wish I was dead,” replied Victor. Every breath seemed to illicit a wince of pain.
“No you don’t.”
“No, I don’t,” Victor grudgingly admitted.
“Let me give you a hand.”
Serrel carefully placed his hand on Victor’s arm, and let the energy flow into him. It was weird, this new energy that Narak had somehow transferred to him. It felt more... potent. Like that from the Illudin. You could do more with it. Taking his time, Serrel managed the numb the pain, and remembering his lessons in healing spells, slipped the broken bone back into place and encouraged the ends to start knitting together. After that he started on Victor’s ribs.
By the time he finished, most of the energy inside him was gone, and the sun was well above the horizon. The sounds of fighting were all but gone from the city.
Victor leaned against the wall of the tower, more comfortable with all his bones back in place. “Thank you.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“I mean it, Serrel.”
“You saved my life back there, so I’d say we’re even.” He looked out across the city. “I guess we should probably head down.”
“In a moment,” said Victor. “Let’s just sit here a while. No one’s going to miss us.”
Serrel didn’t have the strength nor the inclination to argue. “What a week.”
They sat back and watched the clouds drift through the blue sky. The storm had abated, and looked to be a beautiful day.
Part 7: Loose Ends.
Serrel awoke to voices.
“Is he still alive?”
“Of course he’s alive. He’s done a lot of weaving, he’s probably tired.”
That sounded like Edgar, only... An Edgar who was more sure of himself and in charge.
“What a prat. Always workin’ ‘til he falls in the ‘ollow. He must like it there.”
That was Greasy Tim.
“He pushes himself too hard,” said Mouse. “You could try extending a little effort sometime, Timmy.”
Greasy Tim made a rude sound. “Why bother? I’ve gotten along just fine, me.”
“Is there actually anything wrong with him, though?” And that was Justin. Serrel sighed inwardly. “I think he’s faking.”
Since it didn’t seemed like they were going to shut up any time soon, Serrel opened his eyes. That was a mistake. His vision was filled with the grinning face of Greasy Tim, who hovered over him only inches away. That was a hell of a thing to wake up to.
“He’s awake. Wotcha, Serrel!”
“Give him space, Tim,” said Edgar, pushing his way through the mass of Pond Scum crowded around the bed.
Serrel looked around, and saw himself in a long room lined with beds. Fading light entered through a tall window on one wall. He had a vague memory of being led here with Victor, before he had collapsed on the bed. He thought it was somewhere in Vollumir, maybe a hospice of some sort.
“How are you feeling?” asked Edgar.
“Like I just had the best sleep in days, ruined by you lot prattling on.”
“Excuse us for caring,” said Justin stiffly.
“How many fingers am I holding up?” asked Edgar, holding up his hand.
“Two,” replied Serrel.
“Do you remember know who I am?”
“Edgar Paum.”
“Do you know where you are?”
“I think I’m in Vollumir, in the Faelands, being asked some bloody stupid questions.”
“I’m just trying to ascertain if you’ve suffered a head injury,” said Edgar patiently.
“Do you even know what you’re doing?” asked Justin.
“Of course I do. I am the healer on duty aren’t I?” Edgar gestured expansively to the white sash looped diagonally across his chest to denote his role.
“But you’re a pig farmer. What do you know about treating people?”
“Having spent time with you, Justin, I can honestly say the only difference between people and pigs is that pigs have better manners.” He gave them all a haughty look, then checked Serrel’s pulse. “Now if you don’t mind, I have check his trotters, and make sure his nose is wet. Bull, I’m going to need some mud.”
Greasy Tim caught Bull’s sleeve as the bigger boy turned to leave. “He was jokin’, Bull.”
“Oh,” Bull looked upwards in thought, then smiled. “Funny.”
“Oh, yes,” said Justin. “You’re a laugh a minute, Edgar.”
Mouse was sitting on the other side of Serrel. She squeezed his hand. “I’m glad you’re all right, Serrel. But I did tell you not to do anything stupid.”
“I know. I just can’t seem to help myself,” Serrel replied with a smile. “Is everyone else all right?”
“We’re all fine. Timmy hurt his foot kicking an elf, but otherwise we’re all good.”
“That bloody elf,” Greasy Tim complained. “You’d think he was puttin’ rocks down his trousers or somethin’.”
“What about, Victor?” Serrel asked. He looked around. “And Kaitlin?”
Mouse pointed her thumb over her shoulder. In the next bed Victor lay unconscious. Kaitlin sat at his side, holding his hand and looking forlorn.
“Is he going to be all right?” Serrel asked.
“He’ll be fine,” replied Edgar. “You did a good job putting his bones back into place, and his wounds are healing far faster than normal. I don’t know how you did it, but that was some impressive weaving, Serrel.”
“It wasn’t just me,” Serrel said, thinking about the energy the creature Narak had given to him.
“Is he going to wake up soon?” Kaitlin asked despondently.
“He needs to rest and heal. I’m sure he’ll wake up as soon as he’s ready.”
Kaitlin nodded sadly.
Mouse sighed loudly, half turned in her seat, and jabbed Victor in the ribcage with one finger. He woke up with a pained yelp.
“Ow! Bloody hell, ow! Son of a...”
“Mouse!” Edgar chided.
“He’s awake,” said Mouse simply.
Victor looked about, still wincing in pain. Then he met Kaitlin’s gaze.
“Please tell me,” he said slowly, “that you didn’t try any healing spells on me.”
Kaitlin stared at him in shock. “No, Victor. I didn’t,” she said in a flat voice.
“Thank gods for that,” said Victor in relief.
Kaitlin was turning red. “I haven’t seen you in days,” she said. “And that, that, is the first thing you say to me? You utter,
utter bastard!”
She turned and snatched a pillow from the bed behind her, which was, unfortunately, still under the head of another wounded soldier at the time, and proceeded to beat Victor with it.
“I have been worried sick!” Kaitlin snapped at him, smacking him around the head.
“Kaitlin... Ow! Kaitlin!”
“Do you have any idea what we’ve all been through? Would it really have been too much trouble just to stop by and say hello?”
“I didn’t...”
“And to think of all the time I spent wondering about the horrible things that might have happened to you, you arse!”
“Kaitlin, stop that,” said Edgar. He made to move towards her, but Justin dropped a hand on his shoulder.
“No, Edgar,” Justin said. “Leave them be.”
Victor struggled into a sitting position as he tried to weather the assault.
“I thought you were eaten by elves!” Kaitlin said angrily. “You would have deserved it!”
“Can I say something?” said Victor.
Kaitlin hurled the pillow into his face. “What?”
Victor looked her calmly in the eyes as a few feathers drifted down around them.
“Kaitlin, I am very, very, happy to see you, and I am very sorry that I didn’t tell you earlier.”
Kaitlin narrowed her eyes. “Good!”
“Now, if I could just-”
Kaitlin cut him off by grabbing him by the shirt front and kissing him hard on the mouth. It might have perhaps been more romantic if she hadn’t accidentally crushed his broken arm in the process, causing him to make a muffled grunt of pain.
“Aw!” said Greasy Tim with a grin. “I love happy endings.”
“Finally!” said Mouse in satisfaction.
“Gods, I think I am going to vomit,” someone snorted irritably.
The group turned to see Sergeant Caellix glaring at them from a bed on the opposite wall. She had one leg wrapped with bandages.
“What happened to you, Sergeant?” Serrel asked her.
“A Ferine got in a lucky shot. Had I realised that I was going to be stuck in here, watching you lot carry on like idiots, I would have let him finish the job. When can I get out of here?”
“Your wound isn’t bad,” said Edgar. “But we think you should stay here for another two days.”
“Two days? I’m can’t stand another two minutes of that,” she gestured to Victor and Kaitlin, who had not yet broken contact. “The hell with this. I’m going.”
“Sergeant,” Edgar said wearily as Caellix rolled stiffly off the bed. “We’ve discussed this. If you go around... being you, you may have permanent damage done to that leg.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
“Well, I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.” Edgar stood in front of her with his arms crossed.
“Um. Edgar...” Serrel warned.
“I am in charge of the infirmary at this moment,” Edgar went on bravely. “And as such I am asking you nicely to return to your bed and behave.”
Caellix glared at him. “You’re ordering me? Oh, do try, boy.”
Edgar set his shoulders and reached out for her. He stopped dead when a low growl emanated from underneath her bed. Vost leaned out, baring his teeth.
“If you can get through Vost,” Caellix smirked, “I may consider your advice. But if you are overly attached to your legs, I’d suggest you get out of my way. Now.”
Edgar regarded the snarling dog. He took a deep breath, and then screamed at the top of his lungs, “Kielleth! Neillin ut!”
Vost shut up, partially in shock, and retreated back under the bed.
Caellix gaped at Edgar. “You can speak Norwen Drallic?”
“My father was one quarter Norwen. It’s a good language for cursing in. Now, Sergeant, please get back into bed.”
“Who are you people?” Caellix said aloud.
“We’re just mages,” replied Justin with a shrug.
“We’re Pond Scum,” Mouse said proudly.
To Serrel’s surprise, the sergeant complied with Edgar’s instructions, albeit with a scowl.
“Edgar,” he said slowly. “You are my hero.”
“Don’t get cute, Hawthorne,” Caellix warned. “Just because people think you’re a war hero, doesn’t mean I’m going to go easy on you now. In fact, I’m going to be even meaner, just on basic principle.”
“I would expect nothing less, Sergeant... Hold on, what do you mean everyone thinks I’m a war hero?”
“You kiddin’?” said Greasy Tim. “It’s all over the Legion, innit?”
“What is?”
“You killed Vharaes,” explained Mouse. “Everyone says there’s going to be a medal and everything.”
“I helped,” said Victor, coming up for air.
“And nearly died,” said Kaitlin sternly.
“Please don’t start hitting me again.”
“Don’t give me an excuse.” She sighed. “You and I have a lot to talk about.”
“Yes. But in private.” He looked at the others pointedly.
“Of course. You guys should leave,” Mouse told the boys, before going back to watching Victor and Kaitlin intently.
“Later,” Caellix said. “Since you two are still alive, and if Blackwood can extract himself from his bonnie lass for a brief period, you’d better go and see the generals. They’ve been waiting for you to wake up, and you do not keep General Dillaini waiting.”
“Then I guess we shouldn’t,” said Serrel rolling out of bed.
“Later then,” Victor told Kaitlin, squeezing her hand gently.
“Definitely,” Kaitlin agreed. Then she punched him in the arm. His broken arm. “But you’re still an arse, Victor!”
“Just nod, Blackwood,” Caellix advised when Victor made to reply. “And the rest of you, get out. I need some peace and quiet.”
“We’re going, Sergeant, we’re going.”
Serrel paused to grab his staff, but it was nowhere to be seen. It took him a few seconds to remember it had been cut in two, and the pieces burned to a cinder on the tower roof. That memory was like a punch to the gut. Losing his staff was like losing a limb. He was useless without it.
The group filed out of the infirmary. Edgar, still on duty, closed the doors behind them.
Caellix cleared her throat loudly. “Nurse.”
Edgar sighed. “Yes, Sergeant?”
“If I’m going to be stuck here, the least you can do is fluff my pillow. And get me some food. And then, if I’m feeling generous, I’ll let you feed my dog. Go on, hop to it.”
Following the directions they were given by her staff, Serrel and Victor went to see General Dillaini. She had commandeered the office of the Patrician for her base of operations inside the fortress. It had a huge desk and an even bigger picture window looking out over the city.
Serrel and Victor were shown in, and stood to attention in front of Dillaini, Roth and a beaming Arch-Magus Grimm.
“Well, well. The heroes of the hour,” Dillaini said sarcastically. “Nice of you to deign to grace us with your presence.”
Serrel kept his face perfectly blank. “We apologise, General, Ma’am. We were only just released from the infirmary.”
“I trust you aren’t permanently damaged?”
“No, Ma’am. Just a few broken bones.”
Serrel thought Dillaini seemed almost... disappointed at that.
“Go on then,” she said. “I would like for you to explain to all of us what happened. Because I remember giving orders to Jurgen and Snow that they were not, were not, under any circumstance meant to go looking for Vharaes on their own. So why exactly did you fools do precisely that.”
“I take full responsibility for that, General,” said Victor. “I was following orders.”
“Whose orders? Not mine, that’s for damn sure.”
“Captain Jurgen, General, Ma’am. His last orders before his death were for us to take out Vharaes. I could not disobey an or
der given to me by my superior.”
“You could have, since your superior was dead at the time.”
Victor’s mouth twitched slightly. “Orders given in front of witnesses, General, Ma’am. I would have been in dereliction of duty.”
Dillaini sniffed. “If Jurgen were alive. You can bet that he would be facing a court martial. And you would be right up there with him. His dying is a stroke of luck for everyone.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” Victor said blankly.
“Here’s what you are going to do. You are going to tell me everything that happened during the mission this morning. From the moment you arrived in Vollumir, to when you were found by Legion soldiers in the fortress. Leave nothing out. If I ask you to elaborate on something, you will tell me everything down to the most minute detail. Now, speak.”
Serrel exchanged a look with Victor, then started speaking. He did as she asked, and told her everything he could remember of the mission, which had only been half a day ago, but felt like longer. Victor took over when he needed to, but mostly it was Serrel who talked.
Most of the story, Dillaini had already heard from the others present, the surviving Hounds, Snow, Caellix and Annabella. But she and her two generals were most interested in their meeting with Vharaes, and the subsequent fight. When he finally told them of their meeting with the creature Narak, Grimm nearly fell off his seat.
“Really?” he said. “Most fascinating. Did it have any-”
“Grimm!” Dillaini snapped. “Later.” She turned back to Serrel. “So this creature... it destroyed Vharaes’ body completely.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“Isn’t that convenient.”
Serrel did frown this time. “Not really, Ma’am. It means we don’t have any proof he is really dead.”
“And no proof of your story either, which I’m sure you agree is remarkably outlandish. You expect us to believe this?”
Victor stared at her. “It’s the truth.”
“Didn’t anyone find the remains on the top of the tower?” Serrel asked.
“A charred and unrecognisable skeleton. It’s hardly proof of anything. You are the only ones who saw this creature.”
“I wouldn’t lie about that, Ma’am.”