Whisper of the End

by Held, Maximian

  Caius stalks towards us, Dan lays across from me in the ashen dirt sobbing. Why’s he falling apart now? I thought War Mages were supposed to be tough! I can still feel a tendril of his mind worming around in the remains of mine, like glittering path inside my head. Might as well see where it goes, staying here isn’t looking so good right now. It’s becoming harder to breathe and my legs have gone numb.

  I set off on the path, gingerly staying on the sparkling light. As I do the crunch of Caius treading through the charred dirt grows closer, and the path grows dimmer. I find myself in a maelstrom of voices, each one screaming out to be freed.

  Where am I? Around swirls thousands of colors, faces and sounds. Each one is tattered and small, blowing about trying to be louder than the others. Somewhere in the distance, I hear a voice “I am Kearika val’Harod and I will never be defeated!”

  I wade into the swirling voices, and the buffet me as I travel through them. Anger, sadness, joy and a thousand other emotions pound on me. Each one demands my attention, and each one makes me forget a little more of why I came.

  What am I doing here again? Where is here? Who am I?

  “You are Kearika.” A boy’s voice says. I turn around, the swirling thoughts move away from a small child walking towards me. He’s no more than twelve, with choppy brown hair and soft brown eyes.

  “I am?” A woman’s voice asks, I ask. The boy nods once, holding out a hand to me.

  “Who are you? Where am I?” I ask him, gingerly taking his hand in my scarred fingers. So many scars, I wonder how I got them?

  “I am Dan. You’re inside my world. My prison.” He replies, tugging me deeper into the storm. That name seems familiar.

  “Why is it so loud in here?” I ask Dan.

  “Because everyone here is someone I took. Someone I hurt, just like you.” Dan says, sniffling a bit and pawing at his eyes.

  “I can’t help it, anyone who comes close I take a part of them and I never give it back. My mom said I was a monster after what I did to Dad. I was just trying to help, to keep her safe.” Dan says quietly and ghostly images flicker past. A woman in peasant’s clothing being beaten by a drunken sod of a man. The same man picking up a sickle and dragging it across his throat. The gurgling he had made, layered with the shrieking that hadn’t stopped for hours.

  “Mom threw me out after that, said I was a curse from the gods. That’s when I met Camilla, she was my first friend.” Dan says with a small smile. A little girl in rags skips by, dragging Dan by the wrist. They played in the streets together, begged for scraps together and hid from the adults together.

  “Until one day, a man in a funny robe found us.” Dan and Camilla, maybe eight years old cornered in an alleyway by a man in robes. He has a gentle face, like everyone’s grandfather. He holds out a hand, and whisks them away to a warm place. Somewhere with all the food they could eat, somewhere with a view that towered over everything else.

  Then came time for them to learn, time for them to be tested. Camilla was to become something great, someone who would always be with him. He was to become a powerful mage, and he had never been more excited. He trained and trained, taking test after test. Always he failed, never quite able to do well enough. The old man turned bitter, becoming vicious in his scolding.

  Camilla had a bruise on her face from when she had bitten the robed man, after he had beaten Dan. He had been far worse to her than him. The next day they carried him away, screaming and crying, into the dark place beneath the floor.

  A place of pain. They strapped Dan to the bed, tightening the straps down so hard he can barely breathe. They needed him to stay still, for the drills. The dug into his arms, all the way to the bones until he can’t scream anymore. Then they poured in the gold, glittering and flowing. They cut him and poured copper into the wounds, and that was the last thing he remembered.

  The next time he woke up, Camilla was there. Her face was bruised and puffy, she could barely see out of one eye. The robed man was there, waiting by the door. Camilla had shaken him, begging him to talk to her. The robe man had said just two words as he walked out the door

  “Stop her.”

  Camilla hadn’t stopped screaming for hours either.

  “Gah! What was that?” I cry, trying to cover my eyes to block out the images. What sort of sick monster tortures children like that?

  “That is the last thing I remember, the last time I really existed.” Dan says, peering up at my tears.

  “Until last night that is.”

  The robed man is in front of Dan, just as grandfatherly looking. The gold has faded from Dan’s arms, no longer surrounded by burns and scars. The drill marks still ooze blood though, the burning pain however is lost to his broken mind.

  “We have a deal for you Dan, if you go and kill these two we’ll make the pain stop. We’ll make all the voices quiet.” He had said.

  “Why should I do that? I know Caius, he comes and tries to help me.” Dan responds woodenly.

  “Do this, and we’ll give you Camilla back just the way she was.” The old man says with a cold smile. There’s no hesitation in Dan’s reply.

  “When do I leave?” Dan has asked him.

  I stare at the little boy in shock, a feeling of dread creeping down my spine. I came into the mind of a Mentalist, willingly. Slowly, I can feel my mind returning to me. Old memories that I had cast aside to buy myself more time come back to me.

  “Why are you doing this?” I ask Dan.

  “Because, I’m going to see Camilla again soon. She would not forgive me for what I had done to you, or Caius. I need to try and make up for it.” Dan replies a small, sad smile on his face.

  “I’ve never seen Caius like this before. He’s going to kill you and you deserve it!” I shout at him, but he doesn’t back down or flinch.

  “I know.” He says quietly, staring directly at me.

  “You can’t see Camilla if you’re dead! If you really love her that much, just tell Caius what you told me, he’ll understand.” I yell, shaking him by the shoulders.

  “You don’t understand Kearika, that’s the only way I can see her.” He replies and with a flick of his hand he knocks me away into a bottomless black void.

  With a gasp I bolt upright, taking in the burning hellscape around me. I really need to stop nearly dying, these nightmares are starting to get on my nerves. Dan has the same sad smile on his face. Caius has reached us, standing over the two of us with a dead look in his eyes.

  “Caius, don’t!” I tell him, reaching up to stop him.

  His sizzling hand casually backhands me, tossing me across the torn-up landscape. I turn my dirt eating roll into a semi-controlled tumble. As I fall end-over-end I can feel my wounds healing, my vision sharpens and it’s easy to breathe again. Can’t let him kill Dan. I scramble back towards them, kicking up clods of dirt as the tortured ground comes apart under my boots.

  “Caius, stop!” I shout, slamming into him shoulder first and his wards throw me to the ground with a crack of lightning. I hastily pat out the smoldering patch of my leathers, gritting my teeth as I get back up. At least the armor stopped me from having my whole arm burnt to a cinder. Lets try a different tack.

  “Caius, wait.” I hold up my hands, keeping them in front of me. I relax my stance, just holding my hands out. Caius rolls his head towards me, glaring out at me from under his hood. His eyes have become slits and his teeth have warped into needlepoint fangs.

  He...he looks like an elf. Like back at the tavern in Ba’tshish.

  “Caius, he’s been tortured. He’s just doing this for someone he loves. He doesn’t know any better.” I plead with him, gently stepping forward. One foot at a time, Kearika. We’re about ten feet apart, I can close the last six faster than he can react. If I can hold him long enough, whatever’s running through him should get out of his system.

  Caius stares at me, those dark slits boring into me. He gives a hissing laugh “Camilla is dead, she has been for years. The only one who ca
n’t accept that is this sad excuse for a mage.”

  I freeze for a second. That’s not Caius. Eight feet, one strike to the base of the neck. He’ll never know what hit him. It’ll be quick. I start edging forward again, wiggling my feet through the loose dirt.

  “Don’t even think about it, you aren’t fast enough.” Caius hisses, the sneer on his face widening into a smile. One that keeps growing larger, and filled to the brim with teeth. Seven feet, if I lead with a handful of glass it should give me the edge I’ll need.

  Caius snarls, his head twitching as he does, when he looks back at me I can see a hint of fear in those slitted eyes. He’s still in there.

  Six feet.

  I lunge forward, leading with the tip of my silver knife. Caius dances away with an unnatural fluidity, as I move past him twist into a kick to his neck. It actually it connects, and while it doesn’t hurt him, he does stumble away from it. With both hands I bring the knife down on him, aiming to cut his head clean off.

  Caius catches my wrists in his clawed hands and gives them a vicious twist that throws me sideways. He dashes forward as I spin through the air, smashing an elbow into my chest. The breastplate crumples under the impact and I slam into the ground. Okay, that didn’t work.

  Caius’s boot knocks me tumbling away from him and I desperately cling to my knife as I roll. I come to a stop a dozen feet away, but Caius is already there. He picks me up by the neck as I try to make the world stop spinning. A grinding pain fills my chest as I struggle to breathe and the dented armor isn’t making it easier.

  I get my feet underneath me and throw myself into him, knocking us both back down into the dirt. I end up on top of Caius, pinning his arms to the ground with my knees. I stare down into his hissing face, with those empty grey eyes. He snaps at me, his needle-sharp teeth gnashing at the air.

  I failed him. I let this happen to him.

  I hit Caius as hard as I can, throwing all of my weight behind my blow. Again, and again I punch him as he struggles to free his arms from under me. It’s getting hard to see the damage I’m doing to him; my vision has become clouded. Stinging tears roll down my face, splattering on his robes. My fists are a bloody ruin now, torn and cut from hitting armored scales and razor-sharp teeth.

  I won’t fail him now. I won’t let him suffer. I raise the silver knife high above my head in both hands. The blade trembles in my shaking hands, poised over Caius’s chest.

  “Do it Kearika.” Caius whispers with his eyes scrunched shut.

  “Caius?” I ask tearily, still struggling to control my shaking hands.

  “Do it Kearika! Finish me, before I lose control completely. Before I become the monster, you are so terrified of.” Caius rasps out, his arms starting to wiggle free from under me.

  “I don’t want to Caius, there has to be a different way! Just tell me what to do, please!” I beg him.

  “You know you want to do it. You’re scared of what I did, of what I could do.” Caius hisses at me, finally getting one of his clawed hands free.

  “No, that’s not true! What you did scared me, but I don’t want to kill you! I just want to keep you safe!” I blurt out, my hands growing steadier as I speak.

  “Then keep me safe now. Kill me! Or I will kill you.” Caius hisses, raising his free hand up to strike.

  With a scream I plunge the knife into his chest, ramming it all the way to the hilt. A look of shock spreads across Caius’s face, and he looks at the blade with wide eyes. I collapse on the ground next to him, watching the light fade from his eyes.

  “I’m sorry Caius.” I whisper.

  Chapter XXIV - Caius

  Duras - East of Ba’tshish

  19th of Telod, 1873 MD

  It was going to be easy, or so I had thought. When it turned out that Dan had been sent to deal with us, I was relieved. I knew Dan well enough and assumed I could talk him into bringing us back.

  Now look what has happened. The forest is burning and Dan turned out to be far less friendly then I thought. I really thought I knew him better than this.

  After what he’d done to Kearika, I lost control of myself. I thought she was being overly cautious, paranoid even, when she shielded her mind. She was right to be cautious, if I had just been a little less naive this would not have happened.

  I had tried to free her from Dan’s control during our fight, but during the few times she had gotten close to me I could feel it. Kearika was gone. There was nothing but a void where her vibrant soul had been. Even with her protecting herself like that, I should have been able to feel something when she grabbed me.

  It was around then when the voice had come back, the one from the swamp and the tavern. With my wards collapsing and Kearika gone, I didn’t see a reason to hold back anymore. I just wanted revenge on Dan for taking her from me.

  And now here we are, pinned to the ground by an apparently healthy Kearika and I am completely helpless. The voice had given me power, just like it had before, but this time I hadn’t drifted away into my memories. I had to watch as I threw Dan around, as Kearika crawled in the dirt to defend me.

  It is strange, being trapped in my own body. I wonder if this is how it felt for Kearika? If it is, this is a fitting punishment for what happened to her. Everything that has happened has been my fault.

  I am trapped in my mind, watching the outside world through a thick window. Something else is here as well, somewhere just beyond my sight. It felt familiar, a cold confidence and immense power. The same presence that has been in Kearika’s dreams.

  Ever since the Cratertops.

  “I know you are there, elf.” I call out to the darkness of my own mind. In the real world Kearika’s fist smashes into my face like a metronome.

  A soft hissing laughter comes from behind me accompanied by the gentle click of talons. A clawed hand slides over my shoulder and its fetid breath blows across my neck. A shiver runs down my spine, and I know the elf is smiling.

  “Very good Caius, very good indeed. Maybe you aren’t useless after all.” It hisses into my ear.

  “You have been watching us ever since the mountains. You were at Ba’tshish when I healed Kearika. You attacked the Zauberei afterwards, and I am willing to bet you are somewhere close by now.” I say, refusing to look at the elf.

  “How perceptive of you young master. Tell me, why do you think all of this has happened?” It asks. As it does my world shifts, I am on top of a windswept mountain watching two dozen black robed figures in a circle. Their hands are all linked and they’re chanting something but it’s lost to the howling wind.

  “Because you are a soulless monster who literally consumes the pain and suffering of others?” I ask, staring impassively out at the circled mages. Another soft chuckle is all I get in response.

  How do I get out of here? If this is some sort of mental magic, there should be an escape somewhere. Mental magic always has an exit, otherwise the mage using it risked trapping themselves in their target's mind and leaving themselves in an empty husk.

  “You’re here because you have potential Caius. Now watch and learn the truth.” The elf hisses, laying one clawed hand on top of my head to keep me watching the scene.

  As the chanting continues the howl of the wind grows stronger, throwing back the hoods of some of the mages. That’s the Grandmaster! The head of the Tower! It is unmistakably him, I would have recognized those tattoos and flowing beard anywhere. Another woman’s indigo hair whips around her face in the wind. That’s Madame LaFeone! She is the one who first introduced me to Aegieomancy, I spent almost two years under her personal tutelage.

  “What is this place? Why is the Grandmaster here?” I ask the elf.

  A brilliant blue light bursts into existence in circle of mages, wispy tendrils extend towards the circled figures. I feel a resonance with the light, an aching from deep inside my body as well as a familiar arctic chill. Aether?

  “They were supposed to succeed together, but your ‘Grandmaster’ had other plans. Only a select
few would be allowed to be a part of his new world. The rest would be cast aside, and he would keep their power for himself.” The elf replies, its voice sounding normal for once.

  I glance over at it and instead see a young redheaded woman, wearing a mottled snow-colored robe. Blood drips from her hands, splattering in the snow at our feet.

  Dozens of figures rise from the deep snow of the mountain top, all wearing the same camouflaged robes. They swarm the black clothed mages, dragging them down in a pile of bodies. The mages are held still as the Grandmaster draws a long ritual dagger from his robes.

  “What insanity is this? I refuse to believe what you are showing me!” I snap at the elf, but she doesn’t say anything back to me.

  One by one the Grandmaster executes the others, slitting their throats with the ritual blade. Their blood is greedily sucked in by the aether, rapidly draining the dying mages. It grows brighter with each drop, and the drained corpses turn to ash and are blown away by the wind. After the slaughter only the Grandmaster, LaFeone and two others remain. I wonder who those two are?

  Is what Mendalde said about serving the Tower true? If the elf is really telling the truth then the Grandmaster is probably a necromancer himself, along with LaFeone. But if that is true, why would they have ever allowed the purge to occur?

  The elf slaps me and hisses into my face “Pay attention Caius.”

  The aether has halted its expansion and extrudes tendrils that dive into the Grandmaster and his companions. All but the Grandmaster spasm and struggle, falling to their knees under the aether’s warping touch. They become still after a minute or two of struggling, and the white robed figures creep closer to them.

  “They were supposed to lift us up as their loyal servants. Instead they cursed us and tried to destroy us.” The elf says morosely.

  The mages rise from the ground like puppets being raised by their strings. One of them raises their hands and the wind stops, the clouds part and bright sunlight bears down on the peak. The white robes cheer, laughing and congratulating themselves. The Grandmaster gives a small nod and a bolt of lightning falls from the clear sky, blowing apart one of the cheering figures. The rest stare in horror at the mages, who crackle with power and malevolence.