Perdition's Rest

by J. C. Placeres

  "I will lead the Phlebos portion of the expedition," spoke Lorne. "With me will be Corvul, Thelais and Sielan. We will all gather supplies and leave first thing tomorrow morning."

  Duvold stood up and extended his hand across the table. Lorne, still with an unsatisfied look on his face, stood as well and shook hands with the Tormos emperor. "May the Three watch over you and yours," offered Duvold politely.

  "May the Southern Sun shine upon you and yours," responded Lorne.

  * * *

  Hurried footsteps rang through the hall as a group of individuals ran at full speed. Gunvold sat up on his cot and saw Byrinda suddenly in front of his cell flanked by two guards. Silence filled the empty prison save for the chieftain gasping for breath.

  "Can these two be trusted?" Gunvold asked his question calmly, moving his gaze from guard to guard.

  Byrinda nodded and through deep breaths responded. "Yes, they are two of my personal guards. They are believers in the cause. They were the ones who removed your weapon when they went into the armory."

  Gunvold stood up from his cot and walked over to the bars of the cell. "What is the rush for? What happened at the meeting?"

  Still largely out of breath, Byrinda managed to gasp out the news. "A secret mission is set to begin in a few hours. Four Phlebos and four Tormos have been chosen to head to the Dallion Forest. Once there they will descend into the cavernous depths. The Phlebos uncovered texts which they believe show that the shattered remnants of the Heaven's Light are lost deep within the depths. They seek to recover the pieces of the blade and use them to forge a cure."

  Gunvold grunted, but otherwise seemed un-phased by the news. "Who are the eight and when do they leave?"

  "Duvold chose Tulinda, Gowinda, Vuurbin and Zeranidul," responded Byrinda. "The Phlebos are sending Lorne, Corvul, Thelais and Sielan. They are leaving at first light in the morning. If they find and recover the blade, even create a cure, the actions we have set in motion will all be for naught. Duvold would be cemented as the greatest leader in Vesnian history and perpetual peace will resound through the land."

  Gunvold stepped back and eyed the cell door. "Time is of the essence then. The expedition must be stopped at all costs. We must unfortunately speed up the plan faster than I had hoped. You all may want to step back."

  Byrinda and the two guards stepped away from the cell until their backs were against the opposite wall. Gunvold braced himself and kicked as hard as he could at the cell door. A loud crash reverberated through the hall and caused Byrinda to cover his ears in pain from the ringing. The lock on the jail door snapped and it flung wide open squeaking on its hinges. Gunvold, in all his massive glory, casually strolled out of the cell. Byrinda unslung Goredallion from his back and handed the Behemoth his legendary weapon.

  "What would you have me do Gunvold?" Byrinda asked the question subserviently while slightly bowing to the gargantuan Tormos warrior.

  The Behemoth walked to the wall which marked the end of the hallway. He felt around on the wall until he found a specific ridge and pushed hard. A grating sound rang out and a portion of the solid rock wall slid backwards and then to the side revealing a hidden passage which led deeper into Vesnia. Gunvold turned away from the ominous opening and addressed his subordinate while slinging Goredallion over his shoulder. "Begin the next phase of the plan. When I return, the news of Phlebos treachery should have spread throughout the land. The people should then be up in arms and ready to explode. I will then strike the match that sets in motion the purge of these weak lands."

  Byrinda took a slight step forward with a concerned look on his face. "What about you Gunvold? Where will you be while we set the next phase in motion?"

  The large warrior stepped into the dark passage and pushed another small segment of wall which caused the hidden door to reverse. As the door slid shut, sealing Gunvold off from his companions, he spoke out. "I'm going to find the expedition heading to the cavernous depths, and when I've found them, I'm going to kill them, every last one of them."

  CHAPTER 9

  Safe Distance

  Like many aspects of Tormos society, the Savage Tundra was a name that remained from by-gone times. Unlike Aunia, which had a semi-varied ecosystem ranging from the harsh and brutal blood flows to the quiet and serene Singing Forest, Juxton was predominantly composed of the Savage Tundra. While the Patriarch Mountain ruled over the northern reaches of Juxton, the rest of the inhospitable land was the Savage Tundra save the small eastern corner pocket which harbored the Dallion Forest.

  When the Tormos tribes were first forming, the Vold, Urbin, Inda, Dallion and Anidul tribes all roamed the tundra. In the early days it was a land populated with wolves, bears, elks, deer, moose and numerous other large mammals. The tundra in the formative years of Juxton was truly savage and more than a few Tormos were lost to the northern beasts. Opposingly, Aunia had little in the way of predators and was quite peaceful and serene. The savagery and bleakness of the tundra were the main contributing factors that helped cement the ruggedness of the Tormos as a people. Eventually they came to realize that in order to overcome and tame the land they inherited, they would need to unify and conquer.

  Thus, the wild and dangerous Savage Tundra was not destined to last long. Once Thunvold united the tribes and began carving out the Patriarch Mountain, a purge was set in motion in order to claim and make safe their home. The fearsome beasts of the wilds were slaughtered in droves and what remained was pushed into the Dallion Forest. Likewise, the elk, moose and various herbivores of the land were hunted nearly into extinction with only small pockets remaining. A remnant of the previous savagery still lingered in the tundra though, for so bleak and barren was the landscape that farming was near impossible. All the grain which was used to feed horses and beasts of burden had to be imported from Aunia, thus horses, oxen and other such animals were a rarity to anyone in Tormos society save the upper caste. The Tormos that remained on the Savage Tundra, hunting what animals remained, became quite different from the city dwelling Tormos.

  Lorne looked out across the bleak landscape that he now found himself in. On at least one occasion he could remember standing on the edge of the Tempest Path in Aunia and looking across the chasm to the barren northern lands, however he had never actually set foot on them. Suddenly it dawned on him that he and his companions were in fact the first Phlebos to ever enter Tormos territory. All around him were flat plains with patches of snow found sporadically across the landscape. Nothing grew but the hardiest of weeds and more than ever it was apparent to Lorne how unsophisticated the Tormos were. How they managed to live in these wastes for thousands of years was beyond him. Seeing the Savage Tundra firsthand, more than anything else, cemented in Lorne's mind that the Phlebos truly were the chosen of the Three. The Tormos had inherited a barren land devoid of life while the Phlebos had inherited at least portions of fertile grass land that were arable.

  The group had left the previous day from Armistan at first light making sure to leave before trading opened for the day as Tulinda and Gowinda did not want Tormos citizens to see Phlebos freely walking about in Juxton. They had quickly ridden inland on horses taken from the royal stables until they could no longer see the Tempest Path. After that point they began heading due east. They had been riding an entire day and a half and had yet to see a single living creature aside from insects and the occasional hare or marmot. On a few occasions Lorne thought he might have seen a fox far on the horizon, but he couldn't be sure. It was shocking to Lorne as well that despite technically being only a few miles north of Aunia, just how cold and bitter the climate was. As much as it upset Corvul and Lorne, they had agreed to leave behind their ornamental battle armor as clamoring around in the cavernous depths with their heavy plates clanging constantly made no sense. Thus, the entire Phlebos party had donned loose fitting Tormos leather and heavy furs. While on an ethical level he despised this, after being subjected to the biting northern winds, he was at least happy to be semi warm in the thick
furs.

  The group had shown little in the way of camaraderie aside from the women. Zeranidul usually stayed far ahead of the group scouting in the lead. While he never disappeared completely from view, he was often just a dot on the horizon to Lorne. On only three occasions, counting when they camped the previous night, had Zeranidul come back and spoken to the group. How such an anti-social loner ever became the chieftain of a tribe was beyond Lorne. About three hours ago though Zeranidul had come back to the group to inform everyone that they had officially crossed into the traditional territories of the Anidul tribe. How the chieftain knew this was unknown to Lorne as there were no distinguishable landmarks as far as he could tell. If it weren't for Aun moving across the sky, time may as well not even exist, so monotonous was the Savage Tundra.

  Far behind Zeranidul were Lorne and Corvul usually riding relatively close together. While Lorne respected Corvul because of his position, the two had never really been close personally. Lorne disapproved of Corvul's lifestyle based on quenching his prurient desires. The high commander and his officer spoke occasionally, but only about preparing for potential combat and their common belief that these lands and the Vesnians that inhabited them were truly forsaken by the Three. Behind the two Phlebos soldiers, usually off by himself, was Vuurbin. The priest had thus far done nothing to alert Lorne to potential misdealing, but something about the priest of the flesh rubbed Lorne the wrong way. Last night when they were all around the campfire Lorne couldn't help but notice how Vuurbin continually stared at Sielan when he thought no one was looking.

  If it weren't for the fact Vuurbin was a man of the cloth, Lorne would have seriously suspected he was sexually interested in Sielan. The very idea of interracial relations between a Phlebos and a Tormos disgusted Lorne to his core. In his opinion miscegenation was the ultimate taboo aside from murder. Thus, while Lorne was certain nothing would happen, he had asked Corvul to keep an eye on the priest. Behind Vuurbin rode Gowinda who always remained close to Tulinda. Lorne would have initially thought Gowinda might talk to some of his Tormos siblings, but it became quickly apparent Gowinda had nothing in common with them. Zeranidul was a loner who stuck to himself; Vuurbin and Tulinda were educated and literate royalty, and Gowinda, while a champion of his clan, was as dumb as a bag of rocks in Lorne's opinion. He was essentially a tiny stupid version of Gunvold who was less prone to rage. As far as Lorne was aware, the silent champion hadn't spoken a word since they began their journey. The high commander could only assume all of Gowinda's brain power was required to remember that his primary responsibility was the protection of Tulinda.

  Not far from Gowinda was the guild master of the geomancers who remained in the back occasionally chatting with Thelais and Sielan. Of all the Tormos it was Tulinda he respected and feared the most. To Lorne, Tulinda came off as the only Tormos who did not possess glaring deficiencies in behavior, intellect or morals. Although she was small of stature and appeared unimposing, she carried herself with an air of absolute authority. She rarely spoke to the group, but when she did everyone listened including Lorne. He still did not consider the geomancer his superior in any fashion, but it was clear there was something special about her. Lorne could not feel or sense the elements like Tulinda and his wife could, but he knew Thelais to be one of the most powerful pyromancers, so if she deferred to Tulinda in the arts, he knew she must harbor an incredible power.

  Lorne was so lost in the monotony of travel that he was shocked to suddenly see Zeranidul riding towards him. As the Tormos approached, Corvul took up position slightly behind and to the right of the high commander. The rugged chieftain wiped his face which was covered in dirt and pointed to the northeast. "About half a mile up is a series of low boulders which has traditionally been used by my tribe when out hunting. I scouted and it's empty so tonight we'll set up camp there. We're close to the Dallion Forest and it is generally best to not be around the forest come night."

  Lorne pulled the furs he was wearing around him tighter as the bitter wind picked up battering his top knot around like a rag doll. Despite the layers of wolf pelts, Lorne still felt as if the winds were tearing straight through him to the bone. "How soon until we reach the Dallion Forest? How far once we're in the forest until we reach the cavernous depths?"

  Zeranidul patted his horse gently and looked past the two Phlebos to the rest of the party in the distance. "We'll get a few hours of sleep and leave while Nua is still active before Aun awakes. It should only take us a few hours to reach the Dallion Forest once we start moving again. Once in the Dallion Forest it will take almost a full day of marching without the horses, but we should arrive at the cavernous depths just before nightfall. Tonight we will need to set watches though as we are near the untamed wilds of Juxton."

  Corvul snorted in derision at the statement. "You mean everything we've seen so far you consider tamed?"

  Zeranidul scowled at the impudent officer and nudged his horse closer to the two Phlebos warriors. While Lorne was slightly taller than Zeranidul, the lanky chieftain stood at least a head taller than Corvul. "We Tormos do not believe in building structures that defile the holy lands gifted to us by the Three. We tame our lands through knowledge, skill and mastery, not hideous testaments to our ability to pile rocks atop each other."

  Zeranidul brushed pass Corvul heading for the rest of the group to spread the word. Corvul and Lorne glanced at each and shared a brief smile at the expense of the barbaric Tormos. The two Phlebos kicked their horses and rode off to the northeast, the rest of the group in tow behind them as Aun slowly began to recede behind the horizon.

  * * *

  Thelais sat close to the low burning fire amongst the spattering of boulders the group was camped at. In the distance, lost in the darkness, she could hear their horses moving about in the night. She pushed at the kindling with a stick trying to get the fire to roar brighter. More than anything she just wanted to get warm, however the small campfire did little to beat back the constant frigid temperatures of the northern wastelands. She contemplated casting a spell to turn the campfire into a roaring inferno but figured her Tormos companions may not appreciate such an action. All four Phlebos were positioned near the fire to try and soak up the warmth. Lorne was fast asleep next to Thelais whereas Sielan and Corvul slept close to each other on the opposite side of the fire. Far away from the light and heat of the camp lay Vuurbin, Gowinda and Zeranidul somewhere off the darkness. To the Tormos this harsh landscape and its brutal chill was home.

  Thelais glanced at her husband and frowned in worry. Although the pyromancer had no love loss for the Tormos and believed them inferior, she did admire them for having to endure these harsh lands. While Thelais' respect for the Tormos had been increasing since their journey began, Lorne had grown colder in his beliefs. More and more her husband came to view their brothers and sisters to the north as barbarous creatures. In private before falling asleep he had spoken in whispers to Thelais about how the Tormos were more beast than Vesnian. Thelais had wanted to argue against his increasingly hostile beliefs but she knew now was not the time or place for such an action.

  A figure stepped out from the darkness, as if almost appearing straight out of a nearby boulder. The sudden appearance of Tulinda in her dark robes startled Thelais who jumped where she sat. A small smile appeared from under the cowl that hid most of the geomancer's face. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to scare you."

  Thelais placed her hand on her chest to try and calm her furiously beating heart, the pyromancer smiled and laughed a bit. "No, it's alright; I'm not used to someone getting the drop on me is all. Will you sit with me at the fire?"

  Tulinda pulled back the hood revealing her slim and strangely beautiful face. The geomancer had the darkest blue eyes Thelais had ever seen.

  "Sadly, I have bad news," began Tulinda. "We're going to have to douse the campfire."

  Thelais sighed, smiling as she gently shook her head in frustration. "I was afraid at some point one of you was going to tell us to do that."


  Tulinda stepped closer and sat down on the ground a few feet from Thelais. It wasn't until she was closer and fully illuminated by the campfire that Thelais noticed the geomancer's hair was fully braided into dozens of strands trailing down her back into the folds of her robes. How long the geomancer's hair really was remained a mystery to the pyromancer.

  "Off in the distance to the north," spoke Tulinda while motioning with her hand in the direction, "I saw campfires and movements. I believe a group of Anidul nomads settled down for the night about a mile away from us. The last thing we need is for them to see our campfire and come try to make friends with, what they believe is, another group of Anidul travelers."

  Thelais smirked at what Tulinda's statement had subliminally implied. "You’re trying to say a group of Tormos nomads wouldn't take too fondly to Phlebos wandering around their territory?"

  "Trust me," began Tulinda, "if you and your Phlebos traveling companions think the likes of me and Gowinda are backwards barbarians, I can't imagine what you would think of the Anidul nomads."

  "You must be exaggerating. They can't really be that bad, can they?" Thelais asked the question through a wide smile.

  "You have no idea," laughed Tulinda. "The nomads, especially the Aniduls, are deeply superstitious. They’ve likely never even seen a Phlebos, they might very well think you’re the spirits of the Dallions returned."

  Thelais whispered words and waved her hand towards the flame, the campfire instantly died leaving the group in blackness illuminated only by pale light from Lunara slowly crossing across Nua. The two sat in silence for a few minutes staring up into the sky, the White Watcher's face gleaming down towards her wayward children. "How did you accumulate all your power?" Thelais’ question broke the silence of the night.