The ogre did not take kindly to the declaration. It stood up high and pounded the walls, screaming in rage. “Love? You disgusting filth! Men were not designed to love other men. They were not created to ogle the bodies of other men. Your wandering eyes should be removed at once!” The ogre snarled and stepped toward Dariak.
The mage had no idea what to do. He couldn’t abandon his ghostly self and leave it to the ogre’s rage. Even if it was only a memory, he worried that if the ogre damaged it, it might fray his friendship with the warrior. The young man’s history might be rewritten in this mystical prison. He didn’t know the scope of the Trial’s influence but he was wise enough to be cautious. He cast his thoughts about, but he couldn’t move.
The ogre stamped closer and Dariak only had words at his disposal. “You claim that a man loving another man is disgusting, but you’re wrong. Think of brothers. Of fathers and sons. Think of your love for your liege—before you met him, at any rate. You had a blind devotion to the king, but he ignored that and he broke you. He shattered your image of him and he left you wounded.”
The ogre hesitated and looked as if it was about to submit to the logic. But a strange reddish glow swirled in its eyes and the fire burned anew. “The love between brothers is not the love you feel for me, you letch. Don’t mince the truth to suit your purposes. Your interest is foul and unnatural.”
“Foul and unnatural?” Dariak yelled back. “To care for you because you have integrity and a passionate heart? I don’t see your logic, ogre. There is nothing wrong with my feelings, toward you or any other.”
The crimson light in the ogre’s eyes intensified and it looked as if the creature was about to enter a berserker rage. Dariak tensed unsuccessfully, then grasped for more words, but it was the ogre who spoke next. “You cage your lust in a claim of cherishing a noble spirit, but your lust is a travesty of the land. If men were intended to love other men as you do, your bodies would be able to grow children and keep the population moving forward. No, nature is against you. And you will be ended.”
In all of his years of hearing angry taunts against his orientation, this one argument had crossed his ears only once before. He was a young teenager and already knew that his romantic interests were different than those of other mages. He had become close with one boy in particular. They had experimented in some forms of cuddling and were discovered by an irate mage who happened upon them. The fury with which the man berated them sent Dariak’s friend from his life forever; he never knew what became of him. But Dariak was the son of Delminor, who had perished protecting their land, who had given so much of his knowledge freely to the mages; because of his strong history, Dariak did not cower under the man’s tirade.
As he recalled this, the scene within the ogre’s mind was temporarily suspended. He didn’t know how, but it didn’t matter. He had always thought Gabrion had come to terms with Dariak’s interest in men, and the ogre’s insistent denials seemed out of place. The reddish eyes and the Dariak’s own memory connected the two.
“Kerrish, that’s enough!” Dariak shouted out. “You may be empowering this process but it does not give you the right to intervene like this. Keep your personal opinions to yourself.”
The ogre’s voice changed momentarily as Kerrish asserted himself more directly. “Your foul antics of ages past cause conflict even now. You’ve confused this poor farm boy with your affection. You sense it, don’t you? It’s one of the main issues keeping him here trapped in the Trial. If it weren’t for you, Dariak, your friend would have been fine long ago.”
He wondered, but not for long. “Gabrion does have qualities I admire and would cherish in a beloved. But his heart is elsewhere and it’s there he is conflicted. Leave us to this and you will see.”
Kerrish chuckled through the ogre’s oversized lips. “You don’t hear him like I can right now.”
“Then release him and let him speak.”
But the older mage seemed bent on ruining this moment. He continued to probe the ogre’s mind and lash out at Dariak with choice thoughts that stung the mage. Yet Dariak knew the true source and he knew he needed to act. He kept one mental hand grasped firmly within his ghostly self and then he reached his other hand back toward his body. It was like trying to watch a completely different scene with each eye and making sense of both. Into his pocket he reached, where he withdrew a vial of spiders’ eggs. At least, that’s what he thought he was grabbing. Uttering the activation words, he urged his body to lob the vial across toward Kerrish’s body, hoping to bind the man tightly and force his thoughts back to the real world.
The spiders’ eggs, however, were in a different pocket and Dariak in fact withdrew a container of dead firegnats. The activation spell that was meant to break the spiders’ eggs and release a thick web-like goo instead inverted the firegnats and released their inner venom sacs, which erupted into a blazing inferno, aimed toward Kerrish’s prone body.
Dariak couldn’t receive any actual information from his senses, for the ogre lunged forward angrily after Dariak’s last response. His ghostly self was wrangling with the beast, trying to keep the flailing arms away, but of course the mage’s physique was no match for the power of the giant. The hits rained down and though he was within a shadow of the ogre’s memory, the pain seemed very real, though not long lasting. A sliver of thought attributed that aspect to the healing energies supporting this Trial, though they were unable to prevent the pain outright.
Then, all at once, the pummeling stopped and the crimson light faded out of the ogre’s eyes. It pulled back, then touched its hands one after the other, wondering what it had done. Anguish erupted on the creature’s misshapen face, for once again it had succumbed to the senseless beating of another man.
Dariak saw the despair building and so he called out, “Gabrion, I’m fine, really. You didn’t do me any harm. I’m fine.”
The ogre looked toward the voice, its eyes again a pale milky white. “I never did understand your proclivities and part of me was uncomfortable with the way you would devour me with your eyes. But I never meant to hurt you.”
“I know, Gabrion. You’re much more a protector than anything else.”
The description summoned a vibrant image of Kitalla, which the ogre brushed away. “No, I’m not done with you yet. Tell me, Dariak. What is your will with me? I need to know.”
“I—” He hadn’t really considered having to define it before. “I would be honored to be your friend, now and forevermore.”
The ogre needed more. “Just friend? What of your other desires? Wouldn’t you be interested in pursuing those with me?”
Dariak blushed. “Delighted,” he drawled humorously, but then he pulled himself together. “Listen, Gabrion, it’s true that I’ve come to love you, I won’t deny that. And I’ll admit that I find you attractive, too, and not just physically. But you’re not interested in me in that way and so I would never pursue you in that regard.” He thought also of his love for Randler, of how he wouldn’t want to hurt the bard, but he didn’t think the ogre could understand that at the moment.
The ogre stared down at him and though Dariak knew the beast couldn’t actually see him, he kept himself resolute and firm anyway. “Then what if I was curious about your way of things? What if I wanted you to teach me?”
It was a question Dariak never could have expected. “I— I—” he stammered. He knew the correct answer to say, but he also knew the answer that was in his heart. He found he couldn’t hide the truth, though he struggled to do so for fear of the ogre’s reaction and of hurting Randler. It seemed the healing energies insisted he speak honestly here. “Well, I would want to show you. But really, Gabrion, if it came down to it, your friendship means so much more to me than one dalliance with you.” He shook his head. “No, I wouldn’t risk our friendship over such a thing.” He paused and then added, “But I know you, Gabrion. There isn’t a single part of you that would seek such knowledge anyway.”
The ogre actually smirked. �
��I know. I just wanted to know how you would react.”
It was the first thing the ogre had said that sounded at all like Gabrion himself. Dariak smiled and found that he was ejected from his ghostly host. The scene dissolved and Dariak saw that they were back at the camp. The ogre was still seated by the fire, staring blankly toward the flames. Its head turned from left to right as it debated the series of conversations that were happening all around it.
Dariak stepped forward and sat beside the ogre. He felt like he had repaired a rift in his friendship with Gabrion that he hadn’t known existed. He felt lighter, having confessed himself, and then he chuckled to himself for all the times Gabrion had done the same thing during their travels. He turned toward the large ogre and shook his head, wondering how such an innocent thing could be so mired in self-doubt.
“Gabrion?”
The ogre ignored him.
“Gabrion?” he said louder, and the ogre pulled its attention away from its distractions. “Gabrion, listen. You still need some help in there. I can help you if you will let me.” The beast grunted in response and Dariak realized that since he was no longer within its thoughts, it was treating him like a stranger again. “You still have things to deal with and I may be able to help if you let me.” The ogre didn’t seem to respond, so Dariak pressed further. “You need to come to terms with the fighting. And you need to resolve your feelings for Mira and Kitalla.”
At this the ogre screamed and scuttled away from Dariak as if he was afire. But the mage followed calmly, repeating his offer for help every step of the way. Several minutes later, the ogre crashed into one of the trees that locked them into this area and it cowered there as the mage stepped closer.
“Take my hand and we will do this together.” Dariak reached out, knowing he could not force his help upon the lost soul. Doing so might free Gabrion of his current Trial, but it wouldn’t fix the underlying issues that were at odds with each other. They had come to some kind of understanding and Dariak was banking on that. The ogre would recognize him and would accept the help, even from a deviant such as himself. He didn’t know how he would be able to repair the warrior’s pain, but he knew that if he kept trying then something was bound to work. Besides, in some way, it felt good that he was actively reaching out to try to save Gabrion’s life.
But the ogre was blind and he could not see Dariak’s offered hand. The massive body sat for a long time, unmoving. Dariak remained there, waiting.
* * *
“Come, young bard, you need a rest.”
Randler’s fingers were numb from strumming the lute for so many hours. He had emptied his jug of water but he kept playing the lute, knowing that Dariak needed his support as he tried to free Gabrion from his Trial. Frast’s intrusion snapped the bard awake from a mild trance, but he shook his head in denial.
“They need me.”
Frast approached the bard and rested warm hands on his shoulders. “You’re extremely tense, exhausted, and you need food. You’re no good to them in this condition. Come away now and rest, then you can return.”
Randler looked up, confused. “You make it sound like they aren’t coming out any time soon.”
Frast only shrugged. “We have a meal ready for you, Randler. Come on, now.”
“A moment,” he agreed. Frast walked away as the bard stood up and stretched, then walked toward the sealed doorway into Gabrion’s chamber. He felt a heavy sorrow within himself as he looked upon the warrior’s writhing body.
“So you’ve claimed Dariak’s love, have you?” He swallowed hard, frowning. “And nary a thought of me.” The resonance of his music with Dariak’s energy, amplified perhaps by their respective jades, had allowed him glimpses into what the mage was seeing and hearing. He had heard the passion with which Dariak declared himself to Gabrion, and he knew enough about the Trial that it was based all in truth. Lies would not have held together.
He didn’t know what to make of it or if Dariak’s claim that a fraternal love was all it was. Still, he found it unsettling. He wanted to pull Dariak from the Trial so he could ask about it. He didn’t want this feeling to linger on even a moment more.
But Frast was right; he was too tired to help right now or to make any sense of his own thoughts and feelings. He considered Dariak’s words one last time before turning away.
With a deep, pain-ridden sigh, he walked away, “Well… I suppose it would make a fine, heart-wrenching ballad, in the end.”
Chapter 21
After the Trial
Dariak knew he had been working for far too long. He was exhausted and for some reason felt utterly alone. Yet there he was with the ogre at the camp with the visions of others by the bonfire. The ogre had changed greatly, though, and it mostly resembled Gabrion’s true self now, save for a few misshapen oddities. There were still some hurts that needed mending, but he felt that the warrior would be able to tend to them on his own now.
He approached the man and placed his hand on a shoulder. “Gabrion, it’s time for me to go. The rest is up to you.”
The young man nodded and looked up into Dariak’s concerned eyes. “You’ve done much for me, Dariak. I thank you. Until we meet again on the other side.”
“Until then,” Dariak smiled. He closed his eyes and allowed his thoughts to drift apart. Swiftly, the tendrils of his mind floated back to his body, where they yearned to rejoin. It felt like usual, as if he had jumped off a cliff and was about to crash far below. His mind raced rapidly back to his body, increasing in speed until that moment of impact where his body jolted in anticipation, though not actual pain.
He was terribly stiff and his eyes wouldn’t immediately open, though he saw a dim reddish glow that told him he had worked through the night and it was dawn. The acrid scent in the air, however, was unexpected. Rubbing his eyes, Dariak breathed deeply and gagged. He looked around and was horrified by what he saw.
The benches, beds, and chairs that usually encircled the diamond all lay in dusty piles, including the one upon which he sat, which left him awkwardly dropped on the floor. Dariak rose up cautiously, his legs shaky, and he looked over toward Kerrish, but he wasn’t prepared for what he saw.
The mage’s body was curled on the ground in a charred heap. The skin was blackened and the robes were all but burned away. He checked himself but he was untouched by whatever fire had erupted in the room. He knew it was pointless before walking over, but he checked anyway for signs of life from the older mage. Stepping around the chamber, all the wood in the room was burned or badly scorched and much of it had been devoured by fire. The diamond itself was unharmed and so was he, which puzzled him more. He frowned as he realized he had dropped the carved lute Randler had given him. It was burned badly and barely recognizable.
He walked over to the stairs and the open windows but there were no signs of trouble elsewhere. Baffled, he sat down and tried to remember what had taken place. His thoughts had been within Gabrion’s Trial, but his body should have also been alert to some of what was going on in the chamber. All he could remember was trying to block Kerrish’s intrusions twice.
He reached into his pockets to check the spell components and when he found the spiders’ eggs, a chill raced down his spine. Searching, he noted that the firegnats were gone and then he knew what had happened, or at least in part. Erupting the firegnats would not have created such a disaster. In the end, he decided that either someone had been present and added to the spell, or Kerrish had pulled himself from the empowerment and tried to counteract the explosion.
As he thought about it, he decided it was Kerrish who had augmented the spell. Firegnat venom needed to be quelled and drained of its power, not snuffed out like a regular blaze. Containment allowed the venom to concentrate itself before erupting outward again.
It also made sense, then, that he was unscathed but Kerrish had succumbed. The Trials were powered by the healing jade at present, and because Dariak was connected through the diamond, the jade would have continuously healed h
im as he burned. Kerrish, on the other hand, had to have disconnected himself, since he had been slain.
He felt little remorse over Kerrish’s death and felt calm though some part of him believed he should be distraught. He wasn’t sure why he felt so detached from what he was seeing. Yet he couldn’t feel sad or angry or anything at all. It was just something that had occurred. He wondered idly if the healing jade was keeping his emotions in check, especially after spending hours trying to do the same for Gabrion. Regardless, though, he soon realized that there was a bigger problem anyway. How would he explain all of this to the Mage Council?
Dariak paced the room briefly but nothing came to him. He had to leave this area and seek a location without the calming influence of the jade. But before he did, he checked to see if the jade was physically here. He didn’t expect to find it, yet searching didn’t take long anyway. Empty-handed, he headed for the stairs and descended them.
As he left the upper chamber, everything started wafting back into him. He recalled all the angst and torment from within Gabrion’s Trial; the intrusions Kerrish had made during his empowerment, trying to learn some of Dariak’s secrets; the use of spells to quell Kerrish’s intrusion; and taking the wrong ingredient from his pocket and unleashing the accidental fire spell. Remorse swelled over him and he wanted nothing more than to run back up to the diamond chamber and feel the calming effects that were there.
Shaking his head, Dariak pushed himself on. Down the stairs he wound, seeking the new Trial chambers, hoping Gabrion had arisen from his imprisonment at last. He approached the area and was sad to see Randler’s empty chair. He had hoped for some support from the bard, but he couldn’t blame him for not being there; the process had taken all night, after all.
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