by J. Langland
“As you command, your saintliness,” Aeris said, nodding in agreement.
~
Hilda closed the door to their conference-slash-dining room. She and Stevos sat down in silence for several moments. Hilda sighed loudly and looked to Stevos.
“Well, that was something. I never thought I would be moved by one of the Unlife,” Hilda said.
“I could detect nothing but sincerity in him. Both in terms of the truth of his words, and his emotions,” Stevos agreed.
“As with me,” Hilda said.
“What is the saying? The worst thing that can happen in battle is that you discover your enemy also has a soul?” Stevos asked.
Hilda chuckled. “I think that saying was for conflict between humans, or mortal races at least. I am pretty sure it does not apply to Unlife.”
“True,” Stevos agreed. “However, where truly do the dhampyrs sit on the spectrum of Unlife? As you noted, we have cures for ghoulism and vampirism; they can be redeemed. Either through contrition or, as you did last night, for handling purposes. Revenants, zombies and such, those can be laid to rest. What can one do with a dhampyr?”
Hilda shrugged. “Not much. You kill them. The proscription is to allow them to have peace in death.”
“Yet if the dhampyr is contrite? Is, in fact, someone as this Rede appears to be?” Stevos asked. “If he were a ghoul, or a recently made vampire, he could atone, be cured and resume his life. Yet our only option for someone like Rede is death?”
“I will have to double-check, but I am pretty sure this issue is not frequently discussed,” Hilda said sourly. “It does not come up. Most dhampyrs are raised by their vampiric parent in the ways of bloodshed and terror.”
Stevos sighed. “We serve a god of justice. In this case, if we can verify his account, is death justice for him?”
“Probably not,” Hilda said, raising her arms. “But do you think our people here are going to be okay with letting a dhampyr go free? There is something of a grudge match going on.”
Nysegard, Pevnost’ Smerti: Atundown
Czernobog von Smerti rose from his troubled Atun-slumber and made his way out of his repositorium with unusual haste. He needed to get a report on the previous evening’s events from his liegenghast, Teodor. He was not in a good mood as he entered his study. Teodor stood alert and attentive.
“What have we learned?” Czernobog demanded.
“Vladimir’s squad was in the forest approximately a night’s march from the Citadel at last check-in. That would have been about two hours before you lost your link to Vladimir. They were monitoring the retreat of the mortals to the Citadel, as well as updating our maps of the region,” the ghast told his master.
“Were there reports of fighting in the region?” Czernobog asked.
“No. However, we do have a report from further back towards our main line that there was a brief period of intense light from the approximate region they would have been in,” Teodor replied.
“A brief period of brief light?” Czernobog asked. “As in atunlight?”
“Yes. Something like an extended flash of atunlight from a single location,” Teodor said. “A few small burns were incurred, but no casualties at the main lines.”
“So, it seems they encountered a high priest of one of the Siblings and met with their end.” Czernobog shook his head in dismay as he sat down at his desk. The loss of Vladimir was quite unfortunate and annoying. However, his primary concern was for his son, Rede. After losing contact with Rede upon his mother’s death, he had been fortunate to recover him and place him in Vladimir’s care for training. It had been ahead of his original schedule, but the mother’s death had been unexpected. When she had died, his links to the family were broken.
Rede would have survived the atunlight. That was, after all, the point in having a dhampyr, a trusted ally and family member who could work in daylight more reliably than a ghast. The question was, had he been put down or simply captured?
“Who or what do I have inside the Citadel? Anyone?” Czernobog asked even as Teodor started going through his notes. It would be most inconvenient, and from a timing perspective, expensive, if he had to start over and sire another dhampyr. It would also mean another deal with that demon he so despised.
Mount Doom, Demon Suite: Late Sixth Period
Talarius opened the door to the demon suite to find Tizzy, Boggy and Estrebrius playing cards. As expected, Reggie was out cavorting with his perverted mistress. Talarius closed the door as he came in quickly. However, upon glancing at the table he had to halt and raise his visor—allowing the hot air to enter his suit—and stare at the table.
“How are you playing whist with only three people?” the knight asked, puzzled. It was at this point that he realized that Tizzy was holding two hands of cards, one in each set of hands.
“Not a problem!” Tizzy exclaimed. “I have always been of more than one mind on most issues, so I can easily play as two people!”
“You should see him try to screw himself over!” Estrebrius said enthusiastically.
Talarius shook his head, not understanding. “What? Is he not partnering with himself?”
“Certainly not—how would we keep him from talking to himself behind our backs in his head?” Boggy asked. “I’m partnered with the upper hand; Estrebrius is partnered with the lower hand.” Boggy shook his head as if Talarius were completely clueless.
Talarius shook his head, closing his eyes only briefly.
Don’t let them distract you! Ruiden said.
I won’t, Talarius replied. “You!” He pointed at Boggy.
“Me?” Boggy asked, bringing a hand to his chest.
“Yes. I need to speak with you,” Talarius said, then glared at Tizzy. “Not you. You need to remain silent.”
“What?” Tizzy asked in mock horror. “Me be silent? I think that’s asking a lot!”
“It really is,” Estrebrius agreed, nodding.
Talarius closed his eyes again, gathering patience. “No, I need to ask Boggy some questions and I don’t want you to answer them, even if you know the answers.” He opened his eyes and stared directly into Tizzy’s.
“No! Why can’t I answer questions that I know the answer to?” Tizzy asked, puzzled and seemingly offended.
“Because you are a menace to reality!” Talarius nearly shouted.
“Ooh!” Tizzy exclaimed. “That’s a new title for me! I like it. Brilliant! I am going to use that on my business cards!”
“Tizzy, I need you to be quiet so I can get answers from Boggy. Not from you. I don’t trust what you say.”
“That’s not very nice!” Tizzy pouted.
“If you do not stay silent”—Talarius reached for Ruiden’s hilt—“I will slice off all four of your arms and since you will not be able to pick them up to reattach them, you will have to regrow them from scratch!”
Tizzy grinned and tried to clap while still holding his cards. He glanced at Boggy and then Estrebrius. “See! What did I say?” He looked back to Talarius. “He’s adapting very nicely, getting the hang of this place. Spoken like a true native!” Tizzy gave Talarius a huge grin. A bare moment later, his brow furrowed and he frowned and looked at his shoulders. “Wait!” He looked back at Talarius. “How do you know that my arms won’t grow back four Tizzys?”
“Lilith forbid!” Estrebrius said shock and mock horror. “That would be a nightmare.”
“I think that would be what they call an existential threat to reality!” Boggy said, nodding. He looked up at Talarius. “Please, however annoying he is, you can’t risk it! We’d end up with five Tizzys! The multiverse isn’t big enough for that!”
Talarius sighed. He was beaten before he even asked the first question. He wanted nothing more than to turn around and leave; however, he could not do that. He looked imploringly at Tizzy. “Please, Tizzy. Would you please remain silent while Boggy answers my questions?” he asked.
Tizzy made a harrumphing noise and crossed all of his arm
s, frowning.
Talarius closed his eyes. “I will owe you a favor,” he said through clenched teeth.
Tizzy suddenly threw open his arms, releasing his cards to fall to the ground. Estrebrius and Boggy watched their game fizzle in dismay. Tizzy’s arms extended and then suddenly all four of his hands, one after the other, slapped onto the demon’s face, covering his mouth. He waggled his eyebrows behind his large hands, indicating his acceptance of the deal.
Talarius sighed again and shook his head. He turned to face Boggy. “Boggy, when we first met, Tom and Tizzy had gone out looking for what you called a ‘new arrival.’ ” Talarius said.
Boggy shrugged, nodding in agreement.
“You didn’t want to tell me the details at the time, but I want you to tell me now,” Talarius said.
Boggy closed one eye and started shaking his head.
“I think I know what the new arrivals are; I’ve had conversations with Reggie, Tom and Antefalken about it. I just need you to confirm what they told me,” Talarius said.
“Sounds like he’s bluffing. Trying to get you to reveal information,” Estrebrius said.
Talarius glared at him.
“Sorry, but it’s a standard demon trick,” Estrebrius said defensively.
“I know that Reggie was newly created in a manner similar to how a D’Orc is created,” Talarius stated firmly.
“Or maybe it’s not a trick,” Estrebrius said.
Boggy shrugged. “Okay, if you know that, then what is your question?”
“At that time, you said that it was odd that there would be two new arrivals so close together in time,” Talarius said.
“I suppose…” Boggy said hesitantly.
“Who was the other, the earlier new arrival?” Talarius demanded.
“I really don’t think I’m at liberty to say,” Boggy said.
“Come on, this was about a quarter-month after Lenamare first summoned Tom,” Talarius said in exasperation. “Was it Tom?”
Boggy sighed. “Yes, it was. Tizzy and I were the ones to greet him when he first arrived.”
Talarius nodded. “As we suspected.”
“We?” Estrebrius asked. “I hope you aren’t going Tizzy-native on us.” Tizzy glared at him.
“No.” Talarius shook his head in annoyance and pointed to his sword. “Ruiden and I are asking the questions together.
Estrebrius made a weird facial expression. “That’s a bit freaky.”
Talarius shook his head and returned his attention to Boggy. “I want you to confirm what Tom told about himself. Where was he from, what was he doing, and how old he was when summoned.”
Boggy gave him a shocked expression at the question. “Well, uhm...” Talarius gave him an intense stare, and Boggy sighed. “He said he was from one of the Earths, these technology planes with very little mana. He had been at this party where Reggie had given him a joint that we now presume contained demon weed.”
Talarius nodded. “And did he tell you how old he was?”
Boggy frowned, uncertain about something. “Yes, he did, and I was amazed at the time, and in hindsight it is even stranger, given all that has transpired.”
Talarius twisted his forearms outward in an expectant gesture, indicating that he should just answer the question.
Boggy shrugged. “He told me that he was sixteen of his world’s years,” he finally admitted.
Talarius closed his eyes. So at least he is being consistent.
For what that is worth, Ruiden agreed. Although by this point I don’t know what that means.
Talarius nodded, then asked Boggy, “So you do find it odd that a sixteen-year-old human could be thrust into this situation and achieve what he has done?”
Boggy shrugged again. “Of course; it defies logic. However, the orcs and D’Orcs did have a prophecy about this. I am guessing that if you have a prophecy on your side, things get done no matter how improbable.”
Talarius shook his head, not knowing what to think next. He finally simply said, “Thank you,” nodded to Tizzy, closed his visor, pivoted and made for the door.
As the door closed behind him, he heard a loud gasping noise, as if someone had been holding their breath for a very long time. Tizzy. Talarius shook his head.
Chapter 143
Library of Doom: DOA + 18, Early First Period
Tom walked about the room very carefully, trying to hold the two layers of simple robes together as he moved. He had finally mastered a single robe last night; tonight he was trying two robes. He would have to manage three layers and a sash to wear, or rather be, the animage robes. He’d also have to manage a pair of boots.
“You need to stop feeling the clothes. You need to segregate them from yourself; otherwise the feedback loop between each of the robes, and the inner robe with your skin, becomes too distracting,” Antefalken advised.
“How long did it take you to get used to wearing yourself?” Tom asked.
“About twenty years, as I recall,” Antefalken said.
Tom stopped, the outer robe dissolving. “Twenty years?”
Antefalken nodded. “Yes, but I still haven’t managed to actually change my form; you and Rupert managed to do that very quickly.”
Tom shook his head as he reformed the outer robe. “Rupert somehow figured it out all on his own.”
“The determination of self-preservation, I should imagine. He, however, was just locking in what he thought of as his true form,” Antefalken said.
“True,” Tom agreed then his brow furrowed. “We don’t even know how old Rupert really is. As a human he looks like he’s about ten, but he’s probably at least thirteen. Heck, he may almost be my age.”
Antefalken chuckled. “Well, you are very mature for your age.”
“Unless the Phoenix Cycle is real and I actually am Orcus, in which case I am incredibly immature for someone who is hundreds of thousands of years old,” Tom said with a grin.
“I am betting that’s a big part of the Phoenix Cycle: giving yourself a fresh perspective, wiping away the cynicism and the baggage that holds you back after a very long life.”
“Perhaps,” Tom said.
“I know that when I was incarnated as a human for a lifespan, even though I was partially pretending to be a child at first, it did do wonders,” Antefalken said.
Tom looked at Antefalken in shock, losing both of his robes before pulling them back together. “You what?”
Antefalken grinned. “As payment for some exceptional service, one of my patrons gave me the use of an incubus, allowing me to incarnate as a human. So I lived out a roughly normal human life, starting as a baby.”
Tom shook his head in amazement. “That’s very cool!”
“Indeed it was. It was quite the experience, because even though I had my knowledge, I had to grow up and retrain myself in order to get my skills back. In particular, the first years as a baby were bad. The brain is still developing, and so you are feeling very fuzzy the entire time, like in a fog, and you have zero motor skills.” Antefalken shook his head, smiling at the memories.
“So what did you do in your second human life?” Tom asked.
“Old habits die hard. I was a bard,” the demon said with a sparkle in his eyes. “I even started a school on the northern tip of Norelon, at a place I named after myself: Antefalken’s Reach.”
“You are going to have to tell me your adventures sometime!” Tom said enthusiastically.
“Once you master your clothing,” Antefalken said, pointing to where Tom’s robes had parted again, exposing himself. “Might want to think about creating some underwear while you are at it.”
Citadel of Light, Dungeon: Third Period
“Good morning, Rede,” Hilda said, entering Rede’s cell with Teresa, a Priest Inquisitor of Torean. Hilda had never heard of such a title before. However, despite the ominous-sounding title, Teresa was actually a very convivial person with a much warmer demeanor than Diocate Aeris.
Rede looked up fro
m where he was sitting on his stone bench. At least he was no longer crouched on the floor. It also appeared that he had washed himself a little bit—all good things. However, he remained silent as two guards brought chairs in for Hilda and Teresa.
“Rede, I am not sure if we have been properly introduced,” Hilda said with a smile, utilizing all of her charm. “I am Hilda of Rivenrock, which, interestingly enough, is in Astlan, rather than Nysegard. Now, as you may have gathered from our first meeting, I am a saint of Tiernon.”
Rede nodded, not meeting her gaze.
Hilda walked up and held out her hand in greeting. Rede stared at it in what appeared to be terror.
“It’s just my hand, Rede. I am offering you a handshake. I promise it will not hurt you in any way,” Hilda said.
Rede looked up at her as if she were crazy. Which probably made sense; saints did not normally shake hands in greeting with Unlife. Hilda smiled as gently as she knew how. Rede finally reached out and tentatively, timidly shook her hand.
“See? No shocks, zaps or lightning bolts.” Hilda grinned at him. She released his hand and gestured for Teresa to come over. “This is Teresa; she is a priestess of Torean, who happens to be good with conversations. She’s human—no strange heavenly business.” Hilda winked at him. “Teresa, may I introduce Rede Yondin, recently of a recon patrol for the Storm Lords.”
Teresa reached out a hand. “It is good to meet you, Rede. I know you are not happy to be here, but if you work with us, we will try to make your stay as tolerable as being in a dungeon can be.”
Rede shook her hand with a similar timidity.
“Now, we have a few questions for you,” Teresa said as she moved back to sit down in her chair. Hilda smiled and did the same.
“Hilda has told me a little bit about your situation,” Teresa said. “It sounds quite different from what we would have expected, and we would like to learn a bit more, if you don’t mind?”