Whisper of the End

by Held, Maximian

The comfortable weight of my warm tent offsets the crushing dread I’m feeling. When will that elf come back, and what can I do about it? I’m in no shape to handle it. The sooner we get back to the Tower, the better. Still, a bit of hard marching is better than being trapped in this city for another day! With that pleasant thought, we head out of the room, both of us determined to be underway as soon as possible. Hopefully nothing too insane happens on our way back.

  “Come on Caius, we’re wasting this beautiful moonlight.” I reply, pulling the inn’s door open. He slips past and we set off together into the night.

  Chapter VIII - Kearika

  Duras - Hurendale

  30th of Herras, 1873 MD

  The full moon looms large overhead, and without any clouds in the sky there’s plenty of light to see by. We move quickly and quietly down the main boulevard and towards the edge of the city. If Caius had just stayed in a normal inn, we’d be out of the city by now. The place Caius been staying in is near the middle of Hurendale, and we’d been walking for almost an hour to reach the outskirts of the city.

  An hour of being watched by these Zauberei, waiting for them to go back on their word and kill us in the streets. As we walk I never stop searching the roofs and windows for someone following us. They have to be out there, but I haven’t seen anyone. Maybe Caius has.

  “Caius, have you noticed anyone following us? I haven’t, which bothers me. They should at least make sure that we’re actually leaving, shouldn’t they?” I ask in a whisper, sparing his hooded figure a glance. The dark purple of his robes drinks in the moonlight, giving him a flat shadowy appearance.

  “Your eyes are better than mine Kearika, and you know I was never good at divination.” He whispers back, his pack shifting on his back as he stretches.

  “What’s your plan for getting out of this city?” He asks after a few moments of quiet.

  My plan? My steps slow to a halt as my mind races, trying to consider how to best get out of here. Caius continues forward for several more feet before coming to a confused stop.

  “Kearika, why did you stop? Do you see something?” He hisses. I hold up a hand and gesture for him to come closer, my other hand digging out the map roll from my pack. Pulling off the cap I realize I can’t make out the maps even with the moonlight.

  “Caius, I need some light.” I tell him as draws closer.

  He replies by way of a small huff and some mystic sounding mutters, and an anemic ball of blue light appears above his hand. “Caius.” I say in a dangerous tone. The light obligingly changes to a more useful white. Now able to see, I pull out my map of the city.

  “You have a map of Hurendale? Why? We were never planning on staying here.” Caius asks, shooting me an inquisitive look.

  “You know I love maps, why wouldn’t I have one? It was the first thing I did when we passed through here on our way to the mountains.” I reply as I unroll the map in my hands. Let’s see, the Tower is east, the Cratertops are to the west. South leads to the sea and north is nothing but swampland for days.

  “Caius, I don’t suppose you could just take us back to the Tower?” I ask distractedly, chewing on my lip while I think.

  “No, the aether has yet to calm itself enough for that. Maybe I will be able to in a few days’ time.” He says sadly, his shoulders slumping as he does.

  “Okay, how do you think we should get back to the Tower then?” I ask, gesturing with the map. Caius traces his free hand along the map, along the road leading clear from Hurendale to the Tower.

  “Why not along this road? It is the quickest way, with inns and stables along the way.” He says questioningly. I give him a small smile, and he shoots me a small glare in return.

  “We aren’t going that way because it’s too obvious. The Zauberei will be watching that way, they may even already be at those inns. If they really are hunting down mages, they’ll know how they prefer to travel.” I say, and motion to the map again. With small sigh Caius peers at it again.

  “We could go south then, towards the sea. It is hard to track one ship amongst many, and ships can be very comfortable to travel on. No dust, comfortable beds and a nice breeze.” He says, closing his hand around the light as he does. It fades like the setting sun, and the pale moonlight washes away the colors again. I put map back in its place, rolling the bundle of them together and putting them back into their case.

  “No, they’ll think of that too. Mages like to travel comfortably when they actually have to travel, everyone knows that. We’re going to have to go north, through the swamplands.” I chuckle softly, imagining Caius after a week of wading through swamps and marshes. Caius groans, shifting back and forth.

  “What about going west, through the Cratertop pass? That is not an easy route, and there are many ways to the Tower on the other side.” He asks after a few seconds of thought. I freeze, cold sweat running down my spine. I can hear sibilant laughter and the quiet gnashing of needlepoint teeth. My throat is painfully dry, slowly I turn to look Caius in the eyes.

  “We are not going through the Cratertop pass. We are not going anywhere near those cursed mountains.” I say in a brittle voice, through clenched teeth.

  “Okay, okay we stay away from the mountains.” Caius says, recoiling and holding his hands up placatingly.

  “Goo., I’m sorry for snapping at you.” I apologize, feeling a little embarrassed for my reaction.

  It’s not his fault, he couldn’t possibly know what’s going on in my head. Caius lunges forward, grabbing me by the shoulder and pushing me towards an alleyway. I’m so surprised I don’t even attempt to resist. He presses a finger against his lips and flattens against the alley wall. What’s gotten into him? I thought he said he hasn’t sensed anything.

  Even in the darkness his eyes have a faint luminescence to them, and those eyes are wide with fear. He flattens against the wall next to me and presses his finger to his lips again, before gesturing out towards the street. I watch the cobblestone road, anxiously waiting for whatever it is that’s spooked Caius to appear. A few minutes go by and Caius begins to tremble. I can’t see anything out there, but Caius wouldn’t have pulled us in this alleyway for no reason.

  The minutes continue to pass when, finally, I see a glimmer of motion across the street. I squint, trying to make out the details. I was right, we are being followed! Like smoke the figure slips out from the shadows of the doorway, moving across the street and closer to us. Their boots make no noise on the stone, even the scabbard at their hip doesn’t rattle as they cross the street. I lose sight of them as they move into another alcove, my ears strain to pick out any sound they might make.

  I pry Caius’s hand off my shoulder, and gently lower my gear and weapon against the alley wall. I slink off to the edge of the alley, hugging the walls and concealing shadows as I go, peering around the corner until I can see the figure again. They’re standing where Caius and I stopped to read my map, glancing down at the spot we stood at and casting their hooded gaze around the area.

  They’re making no attempt to stay hidden now, just standing there in the middle of the street glancing back and forth. The deep hood hides most of their face from me, I can barely make out their lips.

  A slight breeze pulls at the cloak, causing it to blow open and letting moonlight glint off the armor beneath. It also snatches the hood from his head, revealing a familiar, cold face. Karl. He pulls his hood back up over his head, glancing around as he does so. A hand rests casually on the hilt of his blade, the other hidden in the folds of the cloak. In the depths of his hood I can see his lips moving, but with just a handful of feet between us I still can’t hear what he’s saying. I strain my ears, trying to catch even a scrap of what he’s saying.

  Slowly he pulls his sword a handbreadth from its sheath, and removes the glove on his left hand. He presses his thumb into the blade, sliding it on the edge before holding it up in front of him. Just what is he doing? He brings his thumb under the hood, I hear soft kissing noise before he throws his ha
nd in front of him. Droplets of blood fly from his thumb, and as they fall through the air they turn into billowing black smoke. The smoke flows over the ground, wisps of it spread out along the cobblestones before lethargically pulling together and growing taller. The smoke flows into the shape of a woman, one with long hair and a flowing dress.

  “Mistress, I have tracked them as far as I can. I lost track of the mage a few minutes ago.” Whispers Karl, his head bowed as he addresses the smoke. He’s talking to Mendalde somehow. I wonder how real that smoke is?

  “Yes Mistress, I know how important it is that I find them. Perhaps you could use your superior skill to assist me?” He asks. Oh no. Mendalde would undoubtedly be able to find Caius if she really wanted to. After all, they’d tracked us this far without us knowing it. The billowing figure points one smoky finger right at me, all without ever turning to look. That tears it, time to go!

  “Caius! Caius, it’s time go!” I shout, I backpedaling away from the wall, abandoning any pretense of stealth.

  Caius jumps at the sudden noise, but he picks up my pack and holds it out for me as I run over to him. I hurriedly throw it on it before scooping up my halberd from the wall too. I stay facing the opening to the street, Caius places a hand on my back and gently guides me backwards through the alleyways. Slowly I back away from the alley entrance, my halberd raised defensively in front of me.

  A soft, warbling whistle fills the night, a happy tune completely out of place with the man making it. Karl pulls his hood down as he advances down the alley towards us, whistling all the while as he frees his blade from its scabbard.

  “My dear, it’s been too long, I’ve missed you so! I must say, you’re looking far better than when I saw you last.” Karl says quietly, his voice twisting to a snarl as he draws closer.

  That’s right, get closer. I’ve got reach on you. Caius gently squeezes my shoulder twice, letting me know that he has an idea. I give a gentle nod and settle into a deeper defensive crouch, halberd extended in front of me waiting for Karl to come closer.

  “Prakaash!” Caius shouts as he throws his hand out past me. For a moment a light brighter than the sun flashes in his hand, throwing the whole alleyway into sharp relief. The light is so bright it washes out any shadows it might have cast, before disappearing just as suddenly.

  Karl falls to his knees screaming and clawing at his eyes. “What have you done! I can’t see!” he wails, he sword clattering to the ground next to him.

  “I’ll kill you for this! Just you wait!” he shouts, one hand patting the ground for the handle of his blade.

  I’m not leaving him like this, I don’t know how long that blindness will last. I cautiously walk towards him, and just as I get within striking distance Karl lunges up at me with his blade extended. I sidestep and let him past, bringing the blunt end of my halberd down on the back of his head as I do. With a hollow thock he collapses to the ground in a heap, and my inquisitive kick elicits no reaction from him. With a smirk I walk past him, buffing my nails on my furs as I do.

  “Come on Caius, we’ve got to get moving before he gets back up.”

  Chapter IX - Caius

  Duras - The Haleb Basin

  2nd of Telod, 1873 MD

  This does not look so bad. We’ve been trudging along a dirt road for a few days, which has gradually dwindled to a rough path. The foothills of the Cratertops turning to grasslands and now a forest.

  “I thought you said this was a swamp Kearika?” I ask, pointing at the trees ahead of us. “I may not have had the adventurous life you had growing up, but even I know that this is not a swamp.” When Kearika fails to say anything back, I turn around to see her tying several sticks into a square frame.

  “What are you making?” I ask, gesturing with my staff towards her handiwork.

  Kearika pulls a bundle of rough-looking rope from her pack, draws the dagger we took from Alaric and begins cutting the rope into lengths. She flashes me a small smile as she works, her hands deftly weaving the rope into knots that bind the whole thing together. I sit and watch, fascinated like by the smoothness of her movements.

  “Where did you get so good at tying knots?” I wonder aloud, still fascinated by the quick, sure movements of her hands.

  It is not so bad out here. If we were not being hunted by a band of killers and an insane mage, this would be nice. Kearika is apparently lost in her work, now softly humming to herself as she ties more sticks into the frame. I cast about, looking for sticks of my own to make a frame with. Maybe if I work on whatever it is she is doing, she will talk to me.

  After a few minutes of searching I sit down in the dirt across from her, unceremoniously dropping a pile of sticks in front of me. I have no idea what I am doing. I glance at Kearika’s creation, which looks like a square with a cross hatch of sticks going through it. I will need rope or something. Gently I lay my staff on the ground, and start rifling through my pack. Texts on the aether, talisman from that shaman, spare robe, some tea leaves, small pouch of coins, a few days of dried food, my gift for Kearika and other sundry items.

  With a small sigh I close my pack, making sure everything is just as it was when I opened it. Carefully I lay the sticks across each other, making sure to copy the shape Kearika made. I glance up as I work, Kearika is pretending not to watch me but she isn’t as discreet as she thinks she is.

  Once all the sticks are positioned the way I want them to be, I picture them being one solid piece in my mind. Gently now, I still have not recovered from my exertion in Hurendale. Even several days after I dragged Kearika back to my room I’m still sore, which is unusual. Normally using the aether like that would have left me tired and worn out for a few hours at most.

  Even now my legs and arms still feel heavy, weighed down by an almost exhaustion that refused to go away. I close my eyes, tracing my fingers along the sticks and the joints they make with each other. I can feel the chill of the aether gathering in my hands, preparing to sink into the wood.

  “Stop.”

  “Wha-?” I stammer, my eyes snapping open.

  Kearika is leaning forward, holding my hands in hers. Those red streaked eyes of hers only a few inches away from mine, and this close I can see past the war paint to the face beneath. A face at odds with her martial nature.

  “You’re going about it the wrong way.” Kearika huffs, letting go of my hands and sitting back down. “You mages are all the same, you’re too reliant on your magic. You’d all be dead in a week if you had to survive on your own.”

  “Says the girl who relies on my magic to avoid getting turned into a pincushion. I do not have any rope, or anything else to bind this with, whatever it is.” I say as I glare at her, poking lamely at my formation of sticks.

  “Also, I have been thinking.” I say, trying to shift the conversation somewhere else.

  “Always a dangerous pastime.” Kearika replies drily as she piles her pack and other gear onto the frame she’s made. She fishes out some rope and begins cutting into it with a small knife.

  “Why are we going through this supposed swamp again? If you knew that I would pick the most direct route, and the most comfortable route would be watched by those hunting us, would they not also come to the same conclusions?” I ask, ignoring her jibe. With a gentle snick Kearika throws some rope onto my pile of sticks.

  “The reason we’re going through this swamp anyway is because I suspect that it won’t matter what way we go. You said you couldn’t see well enough into the aether for us to walk through it back to the Tower. You couldn’t sense Karl, Mendalde or those Zauberei but they all managed to find us somehow.” She replies, scooting closer to me.

  She picks up a length of rope, slowly tying two of the sticks together. I pick up a length and attempt to clumsily mimic her movements, loosely tying two more sticks to each other. Kearika makes a tutting sound as she corrects my poor knot, handing me another length of rope and guides me through tying the two pairs of sticks into a square.

  “There, a pr
oper foundation.” She murmurs, smiling slightly. She looks tired, I have heard her moving around at night.

  “We're going into the swamp because it gives us the best chance of turning the tables on whoever follows us in there.” She tells me as she begins laying the sticks along the square as she speaks, cutting smaller lengths of rope afterwards.

  “The swamp is certainly dangerous, and I’ve never been in this one before but I’ve been trained to survive in one. Plus, we won’t have to worry about innocent people getting hurt out here. Together we’ll make it back to the Tower, then this can all be someone else’s problem.” She says as we finish tying all of the sticks in place.

  “Now, if you wouldn’t mind could you join these together like you were going to before?” She asks, gesturing towards the neatly tied stick frame. I cock an eyebrow at her but concentrate on the two frames becoming one solid piece. Like before I trace my hands along the sticks and now over the rough rope.

  “Ekajut.” I whisper, letting a slow, cold trace of aether leave my fingertips and bury itself in the wood. The wood grows, joining together into one solid piece. I do the same for Kearika’s frame as well, trying to wring the frigid chill out of my fingertips once I am done. How strange, I should not feel this at all.

  “Why did you make me tie this one together, if you were just going to have me join them together?” I ask. Kearika looks up at me, and I glimpse a mournful look on her face, quickly washed away by her normal carefree grin.

  “I wanted to teach you a lesson. My rope can do the job, and so can your magic but together they’re stronger. When one bends or breaks, the other keeps everything together.” She says, wistfully dragging her fingers along the frame like I did. Something is wrong with her. Kearika has never waxed philosophically like this.

  “What is bothering you Kearika? You never act like this.” I ask, concerned by how she is acting.

  “We have travelled together for almost five years, saved hundreds of lives and defeated dangerous foes. Never have you talked to me of how we are stronger together. You sound worried, as if I am going to wake up tomorrow and wade through this swamp by myself.” I say, laying a hand of mine on top of hers.