Whisper of the End

by Held, Maximian

  I kneel beside her, heedless of the way my robe soaks up her blood. The cut on her leg must be very deep and I can’t fix it until I can see what is wrong. Normally I would just let the aether flow and heal her wound, with only minimal direction from myself. Doing so is quick, but incredibly inefficient. Sorry Kearika, this will hurt. I close my eyes, preparing to open myself to the aether. It might not have been there for me to draw on, but I should still be able to get a better idea about Kearika’s wounds.

  I close my eyes and cast my mind out into the darkness. I can sense the aether inside myself, glowing brightly in the dark, and that of the people around me. Of the five attackers in the common room, three have passed on, I cannot see them in my mind. The man by the stairs is bright, but motionless as he is unconscious. The one splayed out on the bar is awake, judging by the activity but bleeding slowly.

  I can see the trickle of it leaving his body and vanishing. Kearika’s is dim, spilling out into the pool around her. I can see a void separating her leg from the rest of her where she is cut. The same is true for her hand, the slash along her wrist looks like an empty pit to my sight. Somehow that knife has cut her body off from itself.

  Someone else is here, watching. In the darkness around me, I can see eyes. Blue and grey, watching me as I work. The grey eyes radiate hatred, carefully nurtured over the years. The blue ones simply watch with a cold malice, giving away nothing beyond that. I cannot afford to give them any time, I need to get to work.

  I am going to have to go about this like a novice, slowly. For small spells, I used the aether already inside me, something that would leave me a little fatigued. I’ve always been able to draw on the aether as a whole afterwards to replenish myself though. For larger things like healing, enchanting items or the like I’ve always channeled the aether itself. It’s uncomfortable, and sometimes painful but carried no risk. Using my personal aether risks killing me if I let it run dry. And what a horrible way to die as well. Still, every second I delay is a second closer to death for Kearika.

  I pull a small flask of water from my pack, rinsing my hands with it. Gingerly I pull the edges of her wound apart with one hand, running a finger along the inside. I need to stop the bleeding. A simple thought heats my finger, her blood sizzles as I touch it. I run it along the inside of the wound, cauterizing the veins and cut muscle. I can fix that later. Some cotton bindings from my bag make an effective sponge and finally I can see inside the wound. Bone is clearly visible at the bottom, with a small notch cut out of it. She will never walk again with a cut like this, I will have to repair the tendon.

  I withdraw my hand, letting the edges of the gash come together. Still need to be careful with how much of my aether I expend. I cut a square of the pants on her leg away, and wipe off the blood with more water and a rag. I dip a finger in the puddle I’m kneeling in, and being to make a diagram around the wound. After a handful of minutes, it’s complete, neatly encapsulating the wound and travelling up and down her leg.

  I feel like I am back at the Tower, I have not had to use a diagram in years! Arcane diagrams are a basic tool taught to help mages use their power effectively. A diagram is a collection of shapes, words and symbols that helped to more effectively bind aether to the mage’s will. It guided the aether, without the mage needing to concentrate on it.

  They are the first things taught to aspiring mages, a way for us to learn the form and flow of our magic. Eventually we outgrow them, becoming able to see them mentally. For spells I am familiar with, I would normally not need to speak any words beyond a chant to help me think. For less familiar ones, such as my illusion I still needed the proper word to guide the aether.

  With the added need for efficiency with my healing though, it’s back to diagrams. I need to be sure that it would work, and that it wouldn’t kill me in the process. This is not going to be comfortable, no matter how I do it. I place a hand over the diagram, carefully willing the aether to work. Sparks fall like rain from my hand, sinking into the torn flesh below. They dance along the diagram, making it glow and filling the air with the smell of burning blood. I gag a little but keep going, small cuts appearing along my arms and hands as I do. A side effect, a result of using my own aether.

  Any serious use of a mage’s personal aether could cause sympathetic effects, it rarely occured when using our normal supply. I am healing Kearika’s wounds by expending myself, so I am being wounded by my healing magic. Normally the side effect of my healing is an intense feeling of cold, hallucinations and temporary instability but that is from the strain of channeling the aether not the spell itself. Almost done.

  Kearika’s leg seals over, a spidery scar all that remains of her wound. A few droplets of blood ooze down my arms, making little splashes in the puddle of Kearika’s. I roll Kearika over, examining the wicked slash on her wrist. The tendons are cut here too, I will have to fix them as well. I repeat the process that I used for her leg, dozens of cuts form a web up my arms. She should wake up in a few minutes. I need to rest.

  I prop Kearika up against the foot of the bar, and sit on the floor with my back against it as well. Everything is quiet without the aether there, it feels like I have gone blind or deaf. The door behind the bar creaks as it opens, I can hear soft footsteps coming closer. I look around for my staff, seeing it in the middle of the room I give up on the idea of using it. Looking down at my shaking, bleeding arms I give up on the idea of using them too. With no connection to the aether I wasn’t about to use that either. Great, one useless mage and an unconscious warrior is all we have. Whoever it is can just kill me at this point.

  “You still breathing mage?” A man’s voice whispers. I drag myself up to standing, leaning heavily on the bar and staring apprehensively at the bartender.

  “That woman told us all to leave, but I stayed in the kitchen instead in case you needed some help.” He says, staring levelly at me.

  “Once the shouting stopped I figured it was safe to come get you. You and your friend there aren’t looking too good. I can help, I know somewhere safe you can stay.” He says, offering me his hand to shake. Maybe our luck is changing.

  “Why are you doing this? We trashed your bar, broke your window and got blood everywhere.” I tell him, giving him a questioning look. The bartender lets his hand drop with a small smile.

  “I’m paying back a favor sir. Now let’s get you two out of here.” He replies, walking around the bar to Kearika. He kneels down, feeling for a pulse in her neck.

  “Is she good to move?” He asks, to which I nod. He lifts her over his shoulder with a grunt, ignoring the blood soaking into his clothes.

  “Come on now, out the back and follow me.”

  Chapter XIV - Kearika

  Duras - Outskirts of Ba’tshish

  12th of Telod, 1873 MD

  The beam of sunlight playing across my face wakes me up.

  “Caius!” I shout as I come to with a start, jolting upright and groggily taking in my surroundings.

  I’m in a straw stuffed bed with a hand sewn blanket, the room itself is otherwise barren. The rough stone walls and a sturdy looking wooden door are all I can see, along with my pack sitting in the corner. I throw the blanket off myself, a cool breeze from a crack in the window playing across my skin. I’m not wearing my armor, or my furs for that matter.

  The sound of conversation from outside the door catches my ears, I press up against it trying to hear anything.

  “...she’s been asleep for a long time now…”

  “...don’t know what to do if she doesn’t wake up soon…”

  Did the Zauberei capture me? What’s the last thing I remember? I remember trying to stand, after that Belandre woman had cut me up. I felt so ashamed, losing to her like that. I glance down at my wrist and see the tracery of scar tissue on it. So, Caius patched me up then, that’s good. If he had time to fix me up, it means he survived Belandre. Either they captured him and force him to heal me, or through some sort of divine intervention he fended Belandre
off on his own, healed me and found a friendly roof for us to stay under.

  I’ve definitely been captured.

  I search through my bag looking for anything useful, like a weapon. Damn, all my weapons are gone. Even the knife I keep on my back is missing. I feel naked. I do find some clothes though, a simple tunic and pants. I put them on, trying to think of a way to deal with a house full of Zauberei. I stand off to the side of the door, ready to grab whoever comes through.

  I knock twice and wait.

  The conversation stops and I hear shuffling feet. The door swings open, a young man in an earth colored jacket stands in the doorway. I grab him by the shoulder, spinning him around and snaking my arm around his throat. The rest of the house is fairly small, a large table takes up most of the common space. A solitary man sits at the table, relaxed and at ease in his chair. Where are the rest of them, it can’t be just these two bumpkins.

  “He said you’d be mad when you woke up, but we didn’t think you’d try to kill him lassie.” The man says with a chuckle. His features are weathered looking, with a ropy scar running down the left side of his face. The silvery scar tissue contrasts with the dark chestnut color of his skin. The skin around it has spider web of white running through it as well. He gives a small laugh, resting his elbows on the table.

  “I guess his stories of how formidable you are weren’t just talk then.” He says, stroking at his trimmed beard. I know that man.

  “You’re the barkeep! From the inn!” I say in surprise. The boy I’m holding is struggling and squirming in my grip, trying to pull my arm off his throat.

  “Aye lass I am, and if you’re not careful you’ll strangle your charge there. I imagine that would be a bit hard to explain.” The barkeep says, smiling at me as he does. My charge?

  I release my hold, spinning the boy around again and taking a good long look at him. His hair has been cut short and ragged, and without his robes on I didn’t recognize him. He’s wearing that earth colored jacket instead, with similar pants and a wide belt.

  “What are you wearing? Where are your robes?” I ask, confused by the change of wardrobe. Caius has never worn anything other than his robes before.

  “Adalan said I stick out like a sore thumb, and that I should wear something else.” Caius says, gesturing towards the barkeep. Adalan’s face crinkles into a smile that goes all the way to his eyes. He has a point, one I’ve tried to make to Caius for forever.

  “I said something along those lines, yes. I also said that you two can stay here as long as you need to.” Adalan says firmly. Caius makes a little frown, shaking his head.

  “I told you already Adalan, we should not stay here. We are being hunted by dangerous people.” Caius says, spreading his hands to encompass the house. “We would not want to risk bringing them to your home, I will not risk you or your family.”

  I don’t hear anyone else in the house, I wonder where they are? Adalan’s grin slides from his face and his eyes narrow.

  “And I told you that leaving isn’t an option.” He says coldly. I tense up, my hands half rising to a fighting position. Calm Kearika, he helped for a reason, let's hear it.

  “Why won’t you let us leave?” I ask, interposing myself between Caius and the table. Adalan shifts uncomfortably in his seat, tugging at his beard before steadying himself.

  “I won’t let you leave because I want to help you, and it’s not safe for you two to go out right now. Those Zauberei are swarming all over the hills and grasslands, you’d never make it a mile out of town.” He says. “I also want you stay for a more, ah, personal reason. Revenge.”

  “Sir, we will not be part of your revenge against someone. The mages of the Tower are above all that!” Caius says, rather sharply too. Interesting, they’ve had this conversation before.

  “Revenge against who might I ask?” I query.

  “Kearika!” Caius hisses, shooting me a cross look. I can sense the hurt coming from him.

  “The Zauberei. They took everything from me.” Adalan says, gripping the table as he does. He stares down at it, seemingly lost in the cracks and stains of the wood.

  “They took my wife. About four months ago, she went out to look into some disappearances and she never came back. I know it was those Zauberei. I swore I’d get back at them, been biding my time, waiting for the perfect moment. This is it.” He growls, the wood creaking as his grip tightens. Seems reasonable enough to me.

  “How do you know they took your wife?” Caius asks.

  “Caius! You don’t question something like that! Why would someone lie about their wife disappearing?” I ask him, giving him a scathing look.

  “I’m sure we can help you get what you’re looking for.” I say, giving him a toothy smile.

  “No! We are not getting involved in some feud.” Caius says, stepping around so he’s in front of Adalan and myself.

  “We do not get involved in local issues unless told too. We do not know why his wife went missing, we cannot just take his word for it.” Caius says firmly, shaking his head.

  “I know the Zauberei took her, because they told me they took her.” Adalan grinds out.

  “What?” Caius and I ask in unison.

  “That Belandre woman showed up next morning, dropped off a lock of her hair and a note. Told me I’d better not lose them.” Adalan says, his voice quaking. A solitary tear travels down his face, dropping down to splatter on the table.

  “The note said they’d snatched her on her way home, she’d stopped by the market on the way back when they got her. They took her less than a stone’s throw from where I was working.” Adalan chokes out, letting go of the table and wiping away his tear as he does. He slams his fist into the wood.

  “Do you know how much that hurts? Every day, I see those filth walking the streets. People disappear and no one says anything! I’ve sworn I’d get revenge, and I will have it!” Adalan roars.

  “It will not bring her back you know.” Caius says quietly. How cold.

  “Don’t you think I know that?” Adalan whispers, slumping over the table. “Nothing will bring her back. Nothing.”

  “I will help you Adalan.” I say, taking a step towards him.

  “Kearika. Protector val’Harod, you will not!” Caius shouts. Formal names again, never a good sign.

  “I know why you want to do this Kearika.” Caius says. This should be good.

  “Why do I want to do it Caius? Tell me.” I lean towards him, staring him in the eyes. To my surprise, he doesn’t blink or backing down. That’s different. Those mesmerizing purple swirls move back and forth, never looking away from me.

  “You want to do this because you feel like you need to. You feel like you are not good enough anymore. Ever since the Cratertops you have been scared, terrified even.” Caius says, and I flinch when he mentions the mountains.

  “I can feel it Kearika, you cannot hide it from me. I know what happened there troubles you, but doing this will not change what happened.” He continues calmly.

  You can’t know how I feel about that.

  “I know that since Alaric nearly killed you in Hurendale you have been doubting yourself. I am sure with what Belandre has done to you that you will continue to do so.” Caius says, his face set in an unreadable mask.

  “I know you want to do this because you want revenge too. You want to be strong again. You hate to lose, to appear weak. You want to crush the Zauberei here, and now. To prove to yourself that you can. To prove it to me and to anyone else who asks.” He finishes in a whisper.

  He’s wrong!

  I recoil away from Caius, tossing my head back as if I’d been punched. I shake my hair, sending my braids flying around me. I open my mouth to say something, anything in reply, stabbing a finger into his chest as I do. He’s right. No words come from my mouth, I just stand there jabbing Caius in the chest. Admit it, you are weak. You are scared.

  . “Look, I got a bit carried away. Why don’t we talk about this later, after you’ve had a cha
nce to unwind?” He says, rising from his chair and raising his hands placatingly in front of his chest

  “Shut it old man, we’re helping!” I yell, finally finding my voice. “I don’t care if you are right Caius, I don’t care if I’m doing this for the wrong reasons. I’m doing it, and if you really care you’ll help me.”

  Now you’ve gone and done it. Caius looks up at me, sadness filling his eyes.

  “Kearika, I do really care. That is why I am telling you we are not doing this. If I did not care, I would not stop you. There is a better way. We go to the Tower, we tell them about the Zauberei and we come back, ready to deal with them.” He says softly.

  I suddenly feel miles away from Caius, as if he’s across the world from me. Even after all our time together, he’s refused to help. I can feel the remorse and feeling of bleakness coming from him. I could also sense the total confidence that he’s doing this because he cared. Damn it all.

  Wham! The front door of the cottage rattles in its frame. The three of turn towards the door and Adalan ducks into one of the other rooms.

  “Damn! I didn’t think they’d be here so soon.” He mutters.

  Wham!

  A splintering noise comes from the door, Caius ducks through a door as well, one leading to what I’m willing to guess is his room. Wham! The door’s bolt finally gives, throwing wood splinters flying as it gives. Sunlight streams in, silhouetting someone carrying a body over their shoulders.

  I throw my hand up to shield my eyes, trying to make out who is in the doorway.

  “Mendalde?” I ask in complete surprise.

  Chapter XV - Kearika

  Duras - Outskirts of Ba’tshish

  12th of Telod, 1873 MD

  Mendalde stands there in the door frame, looking worse for wear. Her normally flowing black dress is in tatters, I can see her pale skin through the gashes. A wandering line of blood traces its way down her face, meandering from above her eyes down to her chin. Who is she holding?