Whisper of the End

by Held, Maximian

  I step closer to her, hands outstretched in front of me. I’m never going to be able to do anything meaningful to her like this way. Might as well act friendly.

  “Mendalde, why are you here?” I ask, trying to sound soothing. Mendalde looks at me and her gaze makes me shiver. Her eyes are just deep, black pits with no end to them. They don’t look like a mage’s eyes at all. The body in her arms gives a pained groan, and I notice the blood dripping from it to the floor.

  “Your Master, where is he?” Mendalde hisses, in a voice that sounds like dry snakeskin. She walks forward, brushing past me and gently lowering the groaning person onto the table. I catch a glimpse of a white jacket and golden rope. Karl? Did the Zauberei get him as well?

  “Caius, I know you’re here. Show yourself or I’ll burn the girl down where she stands.” Mendalde says in a level tone.

  Blood rushes to my face as she does. No one talks about me like that! I start to step forward, opening my mouth to speak. Mendalde turns her head a fraction of inch, until she can just see me out of the corner of her eye.

  “Try me little girl, I’ve had a long day.” She hisses, turning back towards Caius’s room. I freeze in place. They do say discretion is the better part of valor. Caius shuffles out, standing in the door frame. Mendalde looks at him with a look of shock on her face, which turns to complete scorn.

  “What are you wearing you fool?” She asks with a cold look. Caius stares back at her, levelly meeting her gaze, and Mendalde’s eyes narrow.

  “Go put your bloody robes on, like a proper mage.” She says, making a shooing motion with her hand. Caius continues to stand there, tugging on his clothing and smoothing it out.

  “I thought it would be better to try and blend in as we travel, it might cause less trouble when we stop in towns.” Caius straightens up as he replies. It’s the wrong time to grow a spine Caius. Mendalde gives a humorless chuckle, glaring at Caius.

  “Maybe I didn’t make myself clear. I’m not asking. Change back into your robes, so you look like a proper Mage. If you don’t I’ll burn you to a cinder. Then I’ll do the same to your Protector.” She says softly, a ball of blue flame appearing above her open hand. Caius gulps and scurries back into his room. Karl groans, and I can see blood leaking along the paths in the table.

  “And be quick about it!” Mendalde yells, her composure finally breaking a little. The ball of flame goes out with a pop and she turns to face Karl, leaning down towards his head. She whispers something in his ear, before turning back to Caius’s room.

  “You have ten seconds Caius!” She shouts, and starts counting down.

  Caius scrambles out of his room at the count of four, his robe hastily thrown on him. I feel like I’ve woken in up in some mirror universe. Mendalde isn’t killing us out of hand and Caius is standing up to people like he’s been doing it his whole life. I skirt around the table, edging my way towards Adalan’s room. Maybe all of my gear is in there. I need a knife. Adalan is busy strapping on armor, and a sword and belt lay on his bed along with a strange looking rifle. Cartridge bags lay next to it, spilling their contents onto the bedspread.

  “Hey there lassie, just trying to get ready. This stuff doesn’t fit like it used to!” He laughs, sucking in his belly as he pulls on a strap. With a creak of abused leather, the strap tightens and holds. Adalan begins putting on his sword and belt.

  I pick up the rifle, holding it out in front of me as I inspect it. The end flares rather oddly. I break it open near the trigger, peering down the barrel. Smooth on the inside. At least it’s clean, not a speck of rust or rotting wood on it.

  “What is this? I’ll admit I’m not terribly familiar with firearms.” I ask, placing it back down on the bed. Adalan picks it up, deftly breaks the weapon open, loads a metal cartridge into it, snaps it shut and pulls the hammer on it back with a lethal sounding click.

  “A blunderbuss lass, perfect for when people you’d rather stay out of your house decide to come inside anyway.” Adalan says, slinging the weapon over his shoulder.

  “Aren’t you Protector types supposed to be up to snuff with weapons and the like? Shouldn’t you be giving me a speech on how to properly care for it?” He asks with a gleam in his eye.

  “Maybe one of us who’s from Elradia or closer to the Tower but not I. I am but a simple barbarian from the frigid North.” I say with a grunt of laughter, laying my accent on thick towards the end. Adalan chuckles again, hanging cartridge bags from his sword belt.

  “Anyway, I wanted to ask you: where are my weapons and armor? I thought they might be in here, but I don’t see them.” I ask him, looking around the room again.

  “They’re in the young mage’s room, he insisted on keeping them with him.” Adalan says, gesturing out towards the common room. I give him a nod of thanks and step out of his room. Caius is examining Karl on the table, and even if I didn’t know much about patching someone up, I knew about how to put holes in them. Karl looked like he’d gotten into a fight with bear and lost, repeatedly.

  His normally pristine coat is a tattered mess coated in blood, the golden loops of rope dangling from his shoulders. One eye is swollen shut, but his other eye is completely gone. Blood is seeping out of his chest and stomach from a variety of wounds. How can he even be alive? One leg is twisted the wrong way, along with several of his fingers. Caius has a hand to the side of Karl’s temple, slowly shaking his head. Mendalde sits silently in a chair, exuding pure malevolence. It’s like trapped in a cage with a hungry predator, sooner or later it’s going to eat you.

  I slowly sidle into Caius’s room, content to be out of sight of the common room for now. Next to Caius’s pack is his staff, the burnished wood gleaming softly in the sun. My halberd rests on wall next to the staff, devoid of the stains I’m expecting. I guess Caius took the time to clean it for me. What’s that? A line of flowing script is etched in above the sweeping edge of the axe blade. I trace my fingers along the script, trying to read it. I have no idea what this says. This wasn’t here when we arrived, Caius must have been working on adding something to it then. My recently acquired breastplate rests on the floor next to my pack.

  The mirror smooth spot has new etchings on it as well. Several places have the same flowing script that has been added to my halberd. The rest of it is in the style of what is already on the armor, the new ones completing the pattern that’s was scoured off. I see the armor itself has changed shape, without even trying it on I’m willing to bet it will fit like a second skin. Caius again. I should apologize to him for how I acted.

  I place Alaric’s blade in its sheathe on my thigh, then the small blade goes into my back sheathe. I slip the breastplate on and cover it with my furs. A handful of throwing knives get slipped into their sleeves on my left leg. A few pouches of sand hand loosely from my right leg, ready to be torn off and thrown. Everything is as it should be again. I heft my halberd and walk back out into the common room. Caius has his arms crossed in front of him, with Mendalde still sitting in her chair.

  “I cannot heal him Mendalde.” Caius says. I’m not going to lose any sleep over that. Caius raises a hand to forestall an argument from Mendalde.

  “It is not a question of whether I want to or not, I do not have the strength to do so. He is is too injured for me heal in my present state.” He says matter-of-factly. Mendalde gives a long sigh, slowly tapping her nails on the table.

  “I told you Caius, I expect results. If I don’t get them from you, I will get them another way.” Mendalde says coolly. I don’t want to find out what her methods involve.

  “If your issue is a lack of skill, I can’t help with that. If it is because you lack the power to do so, that I can fix.” Mendalde says, pulling a small polished silver vial from a pouch on her hip.

  “My issue is with the aether, Mendalde, I have not been able to sense it.” Caius says.

  What? I notice the wrappings on Caius’s arms for the first time. He must have been injured healing me, I remember something about that
from my days in the academy. I thought that couldn’t happen to mages any more.

  “How will this help me? What is it?” Caius asks, taking the vial from Mendalde’s outstretched hand. Well, it came from Mendalde so it can’t be good.

  “I know what you’re talking about Caius, the separation from the aether. This will help with that, it’s a special tincture I’ve developed over the years.” Mendalde says, inspecting her nails as she does.

  “How do you know what it’s like to be cut off? Did this happen to you to you recently as well? What causes it?” Caius asks, a hopeful look on his face.

  “I know what it’s like because I haven’t felt the touch of the aether on my mind in years. I have no idea what your problem is, nor do I care. I only care that you do what I ask. Drink the tincture.” Mendalde says, rising from her chair. Caius shrinks in his chair.

  He looks over at me, and sees me ready for war. He gives me a little smile, opens the vial and drinks whatever is inside it. His knees buckle and he falls out of the chair to the floor, trying to hold himself up with the table. His skin turns deathly pale, a blue tint colors his lips.

  “What did you do to him?” I yell, rushing past Mendalde to Caius.

  My halberd clatters to the ground as I crouch down in front of him, lifting him up from his knees. Tears run down his face as I guide him to his chair. I round on Mendalde, fury plainly showing on my face. I take a double handful of her tattered dress, pulling her up on her toes.

  “What did you do to him?” I snarl, my face is an inch from hers. Mendalde’s lips curl back into a smile, a sickly cinnamon scent wafts into my face.

  “I helped him as all, gave him the power I needed him to have.” She spreads her hands wide, the smile dropping from her face, which settles back into its haughty mask.

  “Now let go of me, before I show you what sort of power I have.” She says coldly. I drop her roughly into her chair, whirling around back to Caius. A bit of color has returned to his face at least.

  “Caius, what happened to you? Are you okay?” I ask, peering into his eyes. He shudders slightly, his eyelids pressed tightly shut.

  “I can hear them Kearika, all of them.” He murmurs.

  “All of what Caius?” I say, confusion creasing my face.

  “The voices. I can hear them all. Dozens of them.” He whispers. Voices?

  “I don’t hear anything Caius.” I tell him, trying to think of what to say.

  “They were in the bottle, now they are inside me. I can hear them, feel them moving around inside me. Trying to get out.” He says haltingly. I just stare at him, having no response for what he’s telling me.

  “If we’re quite done whining, can we please get back to fixing Karl?” Mendalde asks “Because if we don’t, I’m going to do it my way, and my way requires corpses.” She snarls. Caius nods numbly, slowly getting to his feet.

  “Caius, you don’t have to do this.” I say to him, placing a hand on his shoulder to stop him. “We can just go.” I tell him.

  “No, I think we do have to help her. I fear what will happen to us if we do not.” Caius replies, his face drawn into a tight mask.

  He lays a hand on Karl’s head, his mouth moving slowly as he weaves his spell. Tears fall onto Karl as he does, but Caius’s face is obscured by his hood. I can hear him whispering “I am sorry.” as the tears fall. Karl begins to twitch and steam rises from him.

  Slowly at first, but with increasing speed his body is repaired. His one eye opens as the swelling vanishes. His other eye grows back rapidly in his head, rolling wildly as it does. The bones in his fingers click back into place, his hands flexing as they do. With a snap, his leg returns to its normal orientation, and the wounds on his chest scar over. He bows his back suddenly, yelling incomprehensibly as he does. With a thump, he flattens out on the table again, every part of him jerking and twitching.

  Finally, his frenetic twitches come to an end, with a gurgle his eyes close and he lays still. Mendalde walks over by his head, pushing Caius roughly out of the way and leaning down towards Karl’s ear. Her hair falls around her, obscuring our view of what she says. When she lifts her head away I see a glimpse of black smoke around Karl’s lips, slipping into his mouth. What is that?

  After a few more seconds Karl gives a gasp and his eyes open once more. He sits up slowly, stretching his arms out in front of him. He looks around, taking in the room he’s in. He gives Caius and I a cold, predatory grin before looking at Mendalde. A look of something like adoration crosses his face, and he falls to his knees before her. Mendalde raises her hand, which he takes in one of his own. He kisses her ring finger, while keeping his gaze directed at the ground. Weird.

  “I’m sorry my lady, I failed you.” Karl says slowly, still looking at the ground. Mendalde sighs, rolling her eyes. She seems almost, embarrassed?

  “Oh, just get up already.” She says.

  Karl rises to his feet, looking at his tattered jacket and mauled cloak. He shrugs his way out of his coat, letting it fall to the ground. Mendalde hands him Seelenfresser and his dagger. He shucks off his cloak and rolls his shoulders. A quiet cough causes us all to turn, Adalan is standing in the doorway to his room, blunderbuss raised to his shoulder.

  “As much as I love company, you mind telling me who you are and why you were just bleeding all over my table?” Adalan asks curtly, his blunderbuss not quite pointed at Karl. He takes a step towards Adalan, I take a step towards Karl and Adalan just tightens his finger.

  “One more step pretty boy and I’ll put you back on that table.” Adalan grates out. Karl gives him a wintry smile, but steps back.

  “There’s a good lad, now you mind telling me why you’re here?” Adalan asks, the blunderbuss still raised to his shoulder.

  “Yes, why are you here?” I ask, staring at Mendalde. She looks coolly back at me, her gaze never wavering. It’s like being in a staring contest with a snake. Mendalde sits back down, steepling her fingers in front of her.

  “We’re here because those Zauberei ambushed us in our room. That man from the swamp attacked in while we were eating.” Mendalde says. Alaric did this?

  “You’re saying that Alaric did this? The man who you bested in Hurendale, the same who followed us into the swamp? Where he shot some measly crossbow bolts at Caius before running away? You want me to believe that man did this to the two of you?” I ask incredulously.

  “The same man who almost killed you in Hurendale. The same one who was obviously preparing to kill Caius in the swamp. He hit me with something, and Karl tried to buy me time to recover. By the time I’d recovered out they’d reduced him to the wreck I brought here. I decided it was better to fight them from somewhere else, and came here.” Mendalde says.

  Time to twist the knife.

  “So, you’re saying you ran away?” I ask coyly. Mendalde treats me to her glare, but I just smile at her.

  “As I said, we didn’t run away. We came here, Karl needed healing and Caius is the best in the area for that.” Mendalde hisses at me. Karl draws Seelenfresser from its sheath in a flash, levelling it at my throat. Black smoke rises from it, twisting and curling in the light.

  “Watch your tongue around my mistress. You have no right to speak to her like that.” He says coldly, a malicious glint in his eyes.

  “You know I fought seven of those Zauberei, right? Got six of them, and Caius took the seventh. I also threw you into a fire Karl, and Caius blinded you last time. You’re going to have to work on your threats if you want them to work on me.” I say, never breaking eye contact with Mendalde. I reach up and push Seelenfresser away with my hand, a gentle blue glow surrounding my fingers as I do.

  “Enough!” Mendalde snaps “We don’t have time to fight like this. We need to figure out how we’re going to deal with the Zauberei because they will track us here.” She glances over at Caius, who's been silent the entire time.

  “What do you say Caius, will you help your fellow Mage?” She asks him and we all turn to face him. What
will you say Caius? On one hand, she is a Mage. On the other she is a mass murderer who’s the poster child for why the Zauberei hate mages.

  “We will help.” Caius says, “If only because I do not think Kearika and I could make it out safely without dealing with the Zauberei first.”

  “They watched us run here, the only surprise is that they haven’t attacked already.” Mendalde says.

  A single knock comes from the ruined door.

  Chapter XVI - Caius

  Duras - Outskirts of Ba’tshish

  11th of Telod, 1873 MD

  Just our luck. Adalan moves slowly towards the door, his blunderbuss raised. With one hand he opens it, waving forward with the other. Alaric steps inside, his hands raised and wearing simple garb. I do not see any weapons or armor, but that does not mean there are not any.

  “Kearika.” I say. Kearika nods, walks over to Alaric, and starts patting him down.

  “He just has a dagger.” She says after a few seconds. I shrug and wave for Kearika to let Alaric go. This is good, this is a peaceful meeting then. A dagger is not enough to attack us all with.

  “Why have you come Alaric?” I ask, motioning to the chair at the end of the table. Silently he sits in the chair, staring at us all. Adalan leans against a nearby wall, his blunderbuss pointed at Alaric. Alaric clears his throat softly.

  “It’s good to see you better Protector.” He says to Karl, bowing his head slightly. Karl scoffs at him, his fingers tapping on the hilt of Seelenfresser. “I’m here to negotiate with you. No one wants to see this turn violent.”

  “I do.” Says Adalan.

  “So do I.” Kearika says.

  “I personally intend to nail your head to a wall.” Karl growls. Mendalde and I stay quiet, intent on hearing what Alaric has to say. For his part Alaric just sighs, rubbing his face with his hands. He looks exhausted.