“We are joined by our bond, and nothing will change that. I do not know what is bothering you, but I will always be ready to listen.” I tell her earnestly. Kearika looks away, rubbing the top of her head slowly. She gives her braids a sharp tug and wipes her hand down her face.
“We need to get going, I want to get into the swamp before it gets dark.” She says quietly, shouldering her pack and picking up her frame. What did I do wrong? I concentrate on the bond between us, closing everything else off as I do. A painful roil of emotions is all I can make out. She is clearly suffering, I can feel it. Something is eating away at her.
Kearika’s finger makes a thwip as she flicks me in the forehead.
“Ow!” I exclaim.
“What is that for?” I ask, one hand covering my forehead from more flicks. Kearika straightens and offers me an arm, pulling me up while she loosely holds the frames.
“I said I didn’t want to talk about it, don’t you go digging around. I know the look you have, it’s the one before you go do something noble.” She says, with a glimmer of pain in her eyes. But at least she smiled as she said it.
***
“I think I would have preferred capture.” I groan, waist deep in muck and reeds.
Our surroundings have rapidly changed from tall trees and spongy ground to brackish water, scraggly trees and razor-sharp reeds. At least my robes are keeping me clean, I do not know how Kearika is dealing with this. Kearika is ahead of me, attempting to break trail with a long knife. She’s tall enough that she is still wearing her pack on its straps, mine is on one of the frames over my head. At least I could make it lighter. I could not carry this all day otherwise. A simple incantation when Kearika isn’t looking makes it as light as the breeze.
I hope we stop soon. The sun is going to set soon, and the gods only know what comes out in the dark here. The sound of a silver bell rings out suddenly, and I freeze stock still. Someone is close, someone angry. Kearika continues onward, slashing away at the reeds in her way.
“Kearika!” I hiss, slowly lowering my pack and its frame into the muck in front of me. It floats gently on top of the muddy water, in defiance of its supposed weight.
“What Caius?” Kearika yells over her shoulder, pausing to cut through a particularly recalcitrant cluster of reeds. They resist for a few seconds, and Kearika turns around to face me after she’s done.
“Why is your pack floating?” She asks crossly.
“That does not matter, what matters is that someone is here with us. Someone who set off my alarms.” I say in a hushed tone, slowly motioning with my head towards the swamp behind us. Kearika drops into the muck, dropping below the surface. She rises slowly moments later, coated in filth and foliage.
“Here, take my things and keep going forward. Don’t look back either.” She says as she moves slowly through the water past me, submerged up to her chin.
She sinks below the surface, and I lose sight of her immediately in the swirling muck. Great. Alone in this swamp. Kearika’s pack is heavy in my arms, and the added bulk of her halberd snags on everything as I trudge onwards. What do I do if she does not come back? I stop for a second as I weigh my options. I would know if she is in trouble. Probably. The link between us has been difficult to sense lately. It’s almost as cloudy and turbulent as the aether itself.
I keep walking forward, settling on trusting Kearika’s instincts. After another ten minutes I find myself on a high and, mercifully, dryer spot. I drop Kearika’s pack and mine, and settle down to wait. Idly I start toying with the muddy hem of my robe. Wait, muddy? Indeed, the purple hem is soaked with mud and water, in defiance of the spell woven into the fabric. I glare at the offending spot, trying to squeeze the grim out with my hands.
Just what is going on here? I might not have been able to pierce the aether, but I could certainly see what’s going on with my own robes. Shutting my eyes, I keep manipulating the fabric in my hands. I feel the weave of my spell, far weaker than it should have been. In some places, like the bottom of the robe the spell is completely gone. This is not normal. I try casting my mind out into the aether, but just as before I cannot pierce the roiling currents. It pushes back against me, and I struggle to open my eyes before the increasing pressure drags me under.
When I open my eyes again, the sun has begun to set. How long have I sat here? It was a few hours before sunset when I started. Glancing around I see no sign of Kearika, the water on her gear has dried into foul smelling mud. Kearika will freeze if she does not get out of that water soon.
I look around in the dying light for something to burn, but find nothing beyond the stunted grass growing on this patch of dirt. Well, at least it is big enough to set up our tents without being too close to the water. I unroll my tent, but the sinking sun makes it hard to see. With a dismissive wave, a small ball of light springs into being next to my head. A faint chill washes over my body, and I shiver slightly. Something is definitely going wrong with the aether here, every spell is taking far too much from me. Maybe there is something in this swamp causing it.
I don’t hear the twang of the crossbow firing, but the sudden flare of blue light and a dull pain in my back lets me know someone is trying to hurt me. They must be some distance away; my alarms did not alert me. I stand and turn to face the direction of the bolt, which lays smoking in the dirt. The metal head glows a dull red, like it’s been freshly pulled from a forge. Gingerly I pick it up by the singed shaft and examine the minute writings on it. A shame about the tip though, no way to read melted metal. Maybe I should make a spell for that.
Another bolt comes whistling in, halted a few inches from my heart in another flash of light. This one bursts into flames and burns to ash as it falls to the ground. I absently rub at the spot where it would have struck, probing the bruise forming there. I can understand why I sustained some of Kearika’s wounds in her fight. We are intrinsically linked after all, and she was seriously injured. I should not feel this at all, something is weakening my magic, just like my robe.
“Peace, whoever is out there. I do not wish to fight you, I am just passing through!” I shout, raising my empty hands in front of me. Silence is all that answers me, I’m about to shout again when another bolt whizzes out of the foliage into my chest. This one violently comes apart in a flurry of cinders and sparking metal.
“Now you are just being obstinate!” I shout. With a sigh I hold up the first crossbow bolt and concentrate on it. Find whoever used this.
“Khoj.” I whisper as the bolt turns to dust and blows away. The light I summoned flies off into the swamp, flitting between the foliage as it does. It comes to a stop next to an unremarkable cluster of trees and reeds about a hundred feet in front of me. A crossbow bolt flies past the light and up into the sky, and I can make out what sounds like muffled shouting.
“Now will you come out?” I shout, interested in seeing my assailant.
My light hovers around the head of someone swathed in rags as they start sloshing through the swamp towards me. I wait patiently for them to arrive, leaning on my staff as they do. I try to reach out to Kearika again through our bond, but once again it is too muddled for it to be of any use. It might be better for her to stay hidden, in case whoever this is tries something.
My mysterious attacker wades out of the water, crossbow slung across their back along with a quiver half full of bolts. A scabbard hangs at their hip, dripping muck and mud. They’re covered from head to toe in mottled grey rags, all soaking wet from the swamp water. The only thing showing are their eyes, which seem to be a light grey in the light I’ve provided. Grey eyes, my magic being weakened, following us out to this swamp...this cannot be the elf, can it?
“Who are you?” I demand, levelling my shaking staff at them. Slowly reaching up, wrapped hands reveal a surprisingly human face. Alaric? I give a sigh of relief.
“It is just you then, that is good.” I say, relief flooding my voice. Alaric gives me a confused look, like I’ve gone insane. I relax and let m
y staff hang by my side. I can handle this.
“I thought we parted ways when we left Hurendale. Why are you out here Alaric?” I ask, pawing through one my pouches for something to eat.
“You can’t be serious.” Alaric replies, staring levelly at me. Serious about what? Why would anyone willingly come out to this swamp? I fish out some seasoned jerky and nibble on a piece, shrugging halfheartedly at his continued staring.
“Are you daft in the head? I thought mages are supposed to be smart!” He growls, leaning in closer “I shot you three times! It couldn’t have been an accident!” Oh. I shake my head, hastily swallowing some jerky.
“You cannot seriously be out here to kill me. You seemed much smarter than that.” I say, gesturing to the swamp all around us. My light slowly orbits his head, and he swats at it as it passes in front of his eyes. I call it back to my side with a small chuckle and a flick of my wrist.
“We are in the middle of nowhere, in what must be the most inhospitable swamp in the world. Why would you not at least try to kill me somewhere comfortable?” I ask, rubbing my forehead as I do.
“More importantly, what even makes you think you can hurt me, let alone kill me? I am not a novice to be bullied.” I say levelly, trying to mask my fear underneath a mask of calm. He cannot hurt me. I can handle this. An image of Kearika lying bleeding and brutalized by the burning tavern flashes through my mind.
“You’re alone in this swamp, your bodyguard disappeared hours ago and hasn’t returned. I would have killed her before, if those other two hadn’t gotten in the way.” Alaric growls. In a blur, he draws his sword and raises it above his head in both hands. “Die!” He shouts. He just does not learn, does he?
I watch as the blade comes screaming down towards my face. I really hope my wards hold. I squeeze my eyes shut. The blade halts an inch from my face, producing a ringing note as it does. I cautiously open my eyes to see the blade quivering and glowing orange. Sizzling sparks of aether drizzle from the edge, burning holes in the ground where they fall.
“I told you Alaric, you cannot hurt me. I thought you were smarter than this.” I say, watching the blade begin to glow brighter as he bears down on it. With a loud crack the sword comes apart, hurling smoking fragments in every direction. Quite a few patter against my wards, harmlessly turning to ash in flashes of blue light. Alaric is not so lucky; his rags offer no defense against the superheated metal. He claws at himself as he tries to get rid of the burning metal fragments.
I reach down to help him but he bats my hand away. Or tries to at least. With a sizzle like someone grabbing a hot pan, his hand rebounds off mine when he hits me. Maybe letting him work this out on his own is for the best. I back away from him and scan the surrounding swamp in the fading light. Where is Kearika? I debate sending my light out to find her but decide against it, she must have chosen to stay hidden for a reason. After a minute or so of struggling and patting himself down Alaric stops and gives a frustrated sigh.
“You aren’t going to make this easy for me, are you? Do you like toying with people? Is that why you refuse to fight back?” He asks. I stare at him for a few seconds, unsure of how to reply. Fight back? Why would I do that?
“I think you have me confused for someone else. I do not fight people, I help them. I heal them, I offer advice and make their lives better. I serve ‘people like you’ as a mage of the Tower. Why would you think that I am tormenting you or anyone else?” I reply, my urge to know more supplanting my fear of him.
“Because that’s what mages do. They might say they’re here to help but really, they’re just after their own ends. Furthering their own power. Doing whatever they want to those that can’t defend themselves. They’re monsters.” Alaric replies, his face drawing into a deep frown as he speaks.
“Why do you think the Zauberei exist? Because people are happy with how they’re treated? No! We exist to level the playing field. To give those who have no voice a chance to be heard!” He shouts. I am not a monster. Kearika is not a monster!
“Calm yourself, I can hear you just fine. The people do have a voice, they can raise a complaint against any mage that wrongs them. Do you think I am out in this swamp to further my own ends? That I want to be out here in all this filth being shot at with a crossbow?” I ask, feeling some heat boiling over into my words.
“Do you ever consider that people like you simply cannot consider what it is to be a mage? To wield all that power, to know that a single mistake could be fatal? How often do you face the horrors of this world, because you are the only one who can face those horrors?” I’m nearly shouting now. Calm Caius, be calm.
My blood is racing and the aether is as well, it flows through my veins in a torrent. I feel stronger, more alive. The crushing pressure against my mind lifts, replaced by a soothing chill as it rushes through me, as if it had never left. The bruises from the bolts fade, my fatigue from the day melts away and my senses sharpen. With it comes voices though, whispers in the back of my mind.
Burn this man from the face of the earth.
The voices sing out from my blood, from the swamp and from the air itself. The words for powerful spells tumble into my thoughts, terrible magics meant for causing as much pains as they did destruction.
This is not my way!
My breathing grows labored and my fists clench, my nails piercing my palm. The sharp pain draws a confused look down at my hands and I gasp at what I see. My fingers have elongated, the nails have become claw like with sharp points that glisten with my blood. What is happening to me?
“See mage, this is what I speak about. You claim to be kind, benevolent and yet you sport claws and draw your own blood. You and your kind cannot be trusted.” Alaric says, seeing my hands he backs away raising his crossbow.
Kill him.
Slowly he draws his crossbow, knocking in a bolt, one that gleams argent from my hovering light. “I will put you out of your misery wretch. Make your peace.” Alaric hisses as he shoulders the crossbow.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
Chapter X - Kearika
Duras - The Haleb Basin
2nd of Telod, 1873 MD
Ancestors, please let something interesting happen.
I’ve been lying in wait for hours now, watching our surroundings swamp as the sun sinks lower and lower. I watched Caius trudge his way onto a patch of dirt. I watched him apparently fall into a trance for several hours. Those hours had stretched into eternity as I sat in the water, motionless. I waited with everything below my nose submerged, watching for whatever had set off Caius’s ward. My vigilance has been rewarded with bug bites and muscle cramps.
Now the sun is finally starting to set and I didn’t want to be in the water much longer. Who knows what’s in this cesspit, probably something that wants to eat me. I can hear hissing in the distance, and something splashing wildly. Definitely something that wants to eat me. I begin treading through the deep mud towards Caius, careful to move slowly so as not to make any obvious noises. Maybe I can sneak up on him again.
As I draw closer a flash of blue light appears behind Caius. That’s his ward stopping something, someone is out here with us. Seeing Caius turn around seemingly unphased, I continue my slow wade through the swamp. Maybe there’s a tribe of swamp people that live out here.
“Peace, whoever is out there. I do not wish to fight you, I am just passing through!” Caius shouts.
He’s such an idiot sometimes. I shake my head as I swim, and another flash of blue lights up the swam as Caius is shot again. Where could that be coming from? I scan the swamp as best as I can in the fading light, and see several likely patches of vegetation.
“Now you are just being obstinate!” Caius shouts again.
I continue my moving slowly through the filthy water, trying to stay as quiet as possible. He’s going to get himself killed if he doesn’t cut it out. Either from whoever is attacking us, or by me! The little ball of light Caius summoned flies out to a copse of trees some
distance from Caius. That’s a handy trick. After a few moments, someone steps out from them and begins slogging towards Caius. I guess I’ll just get close and wait then.
I find some reeds to hide in, right by the edge of the dry patch, just as the attacker rises out of the swamp, covered in soaking rags and moss. Caius is between his attacker and I, but moving any more would give me away at this distance. I’ll just have to hide here. At least I’m close. Here the swamp is shallow enough that I have to lay on my stomach to stay concealed under the water. The figure in the rags reveals his face. Alaric? That’s not a surprise, he did seem pretty determined to kill us both.
I settle into the muck, and listen to them speak, bridling when Alaric talks of how mages are nothing but destructive. Some of them certainly, but not all of them. Alaric sounds like someone from my clan, or like one of the shamans. Like my father when I went away to become a Protector. My mud crusted eyebrows shoot up in surprise when Caius shouts at Alaric.
I’ve never heard him shout like that, that’s not like Caius at all. Caius quiets down and is staring down at his hands, but my attention is held by Alaric as he carefully pulls out a silver bolt. With great tenderness he knocks it in the crossbow, slowly levelling it at Caius. Now’s the time! I slither forward, preparing to explode from the shallow water.
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