Odder- The Blood Curse

by Nathaniel Red

  The Archwizard walked back to his chair. “Among the Seven Houses, four are involved in the production of silq. The clerics,” he said, with bitterness, “from The House of Rigan mine the raw material from lava within the Mountains of Scaro. The wizards in the House of Gelusador then cool the solution and escort the material to the House of Skyger for refinement. Finally, the House of Elestus fashions silq to create our Elven magical tools, weapons, shields, and armor.”

  He held the vial up to his eye once again. “The silq trade is crucial in all the land, and I, as the Archwizard of Elestus, cannot allow disruption of this process. The silq is life. There must be order.”

  A knot grew in Odder’s throat as the tension thickened in the air.

  “If the other Houses perceive me as weak, then I may lose my authority. Embarrassing my son in public without penalty would certainly encourage this perception. What do you think a fair punishment should be for your transgression?”

  Odder dared not answer.

  Arzed placed the gauntlet on the chair. “I promised the Prince I would not harm you, but I have a punishment in mind. Let’s call it a learning experience for my son.

  Odder tensed. His spirit sank, and panic dripped from his brow.

  “That being said, I am scheduled to meet with the King.” He nodded at Renzt. “Renzt will see you out.” The wizard stepped up to Odder and whispered, “Embarrass me again, and I will feed you to the demons.”

  “Quick, fall on your knees and beg for mercy,” said his inner voice, but Odder clenched his fists and stood firm as the pretentious wizard departed.

  “Well… well.” Renzt grabbed the glove and placed it on his hand. “Perfect fit.”

  “You’re beyond mercy,” Odder’s inner voice said. “You deserve what’s coming to you.”

  He took several steps back. “I know you’re upset, but what happened in the alley was not my fault.”

  Renzt mirrored Odder’s steps. “Don’t worry; I will take care of your lassie when I find her.” He pointed the glove at a chair sitting across the room and made a fist. The chair crumbled. “Ohhh, this is going to be fun. Father has the best toys. The Gauntlet of Thedis may not be his most powerful weapon – it only took five years to create – but the relic will do for now.”

  “You don’t have to do this,” Odder pleaded.

  “Oh, but I do.”

  Renzt thrust the gauntlet in front of him, sending a force of magic which knocked Odder to his back. He then levitated Odder’s body and smashed him against the granite wall. The young elf gasped and reached for his sword, but Renzt lifted Odder to the ceiling, followed by slamming him to the ground.

  Renzt approached Odder, who’s breathing turned shallow. “Good, you’re still alive.”

  Odder turned toward Renzt. His face swollen and ripped. Blood dripped from his nose. “Go ahead, kill me.”

  Renzt kicked Odder in the gut. “Don’t tempt me, slug.” He used the glove to slide Odder across the floor and pushed him up against the door. “Now get out. And by the way, this isn’t over.”

  Odder climbed to his feet, opened the door, and staggered into the hall. He straightened his posture though it caused him pain as he walked past several elves. They appeared to be uninterested. With his room in sight, it took every effort to keep his body from collapsing before making it in. He unlatched the door and fell to his knees.

  CHAPTER 8

  THE EXORCISM

  Odder lay on the cold stone floor at the edge of his small, wood-framed bed and stared at the markings on his forearm. Most of the swelling disappeared, allowing a clear view of the bold pattern, as well as the ink, spreading into his veins. He rubbed the patterns and grimaced at the pain his movements produced. “Ugh.” He clenched his fist and slammed the floor.

  Renzt! He’ll get his payback.

  “Not from you,” said his inner voice.

  “Get out of my head!” Odder yelled.

  A knock at the door interrupted his scuffle. “The Archwizard sent me to deliver a washbasin,” a flat and dull voice said. “Once you’re clean, you’re to meet the King in the assembly room.”

  Drawing strength from his last resolve, Odder composed himself enough to answer. “The King? Why?”

  “I have no other details besides what I already conveyed.”

  “Leave the basin in the hall then.”

  He listened to the clink of the metal as the bowl landed on the hard tile. Water splashed over the rim, trickled under the door, and spilled into his room.

  Odder wobbled to his feet, lurching from an ache in his back. He stumbled to the door and pulled the basin inside. He removed his clothes, splashed the cold water into his wounds, and cleaned himself.

  He picked a pair of freshly washed trousers and tunic. Once dressed, he sat on the side of his bed with the intention of mustering his strength. Several pages sticking out from under a book caught his eye from the end table.

  My collection of prank spells.

  He smiled and grabbed them. Shuffling through the pages, he called out the titles.

  “Endless Hair, Stone Flesh, Slippery Step, Bounce, Flaming Head, Fly Away, Donkey Ears, and Flatulence.”

  He longed to use them someday. The collection gave him just enough cheer to rise to his feet and meet the King.

  ***

  An emptiness swelled in Odder’s heart as he approached the assembly room. His body ached, but it was nothing compared to the fears and insecurities battling in his mind.

  “No good will come of this,” said his inner voice. “You must flee.”

  He took a deep breath. His hand trembled as he reached for the door. He hesitated and almost turned away when the door opened. An elderly gnome stepped out.

  Odder gasped. “Momma Tonk?”

  She placed her finger on her lips and pulled at his pant leg, encouraging him to lean down. “I am of no concern, lad,” she whispered. “You’d best strengthen yourself.”

  “What’s this all about?” Odder asked, worried lines drawn into his forehead as he took a knee.

  “Destiny calls us to rise at certain times in our lives. Now is one of those times.”

  “I already received my punishment. What did I –?”

  She placed her finger against his lips. “Even in the darkest of times, we can choose the light. You can choose to rise.”

  “But I… I don’t think I can,” Odder said.

  “Ignore that inner voice of yours,” Momma Tonk said with her quick tongue. “It’s evil.” She stepped aside and motioned for him to enter.

  Can she hear my thoughts? Odder stood with a slight wobble. His legs quivered like limp noodles in a focarie’s stew, but with an encouraging wink from Momma, he mustered the will to walk through the door.

  The massive room, barren of any furniture, echoed when the door shut behind him. Magic flames danced along the stone wall, producing eerie shadows. Closed wooden shutters blocked any view of the outside world but vibrated from the storm’s thunder. Across the chamber, Odder caught the silhouette of the King and Drugan hiding in the darkness.

  In the middle of the room, stood the High Wizard Edan holding a large book balanced across his left hand and forearm.

  With his right hand, he pulled glowing words from the pages, throwing the spells into the air where they hovered. He motioned for Odder to approach.

  The high wizard glared. “Magic flows through and around all life, yet you are void of it. After our encounter, I held counsel with the elders of Skyger. Demon possession is our conclusion.” He turned the page and threw another word into the air. “Are you aware of this?”

  “Not entirely, my lord.”

  The King whispered to Drugan.

  “A fortuneteller told me I’m cursed and confirmed by a healer.” he said, clearing his throat. “but a possession too?”

  “They are correct, but this is powerful magic with a wicked purpose. The demons will use your soul and the path you walk leads to darkness.”

  Odder’s
face washed blank, his thoughts bounced trying to comprehend the gravity of the high wizard’s words.

  The sorceress didn’t mention that bit.

  “What must I do?”

  “Say not a word and clear your thoughts.”

  The High Wizard set down his book and held up his hands, plucking a spell from the air and throwing it toward Odder.

  Odder stepped back – alarmed, but the glowing words took no heed and stretched out like a whip, wrapping around his arm at one end while the other sunk to the ground like a golden chain. The wizard reached for another floating spell and repeated the process with his other arm. Two golden chains now shackled Odder to the ground.

  “Wait,” said Odder, his voice shrill as if his whole body screamed. He pulled at the chains with all the terror of a hanging thief but to no avail.

  The wizard flung a flat silver plate covering Odder’s mouth. Odder’s body trembled, and he dug his nails into his palms.

  Edan walked over to the bound elf. “Be calm, I will release your demons, but first I must make sure you cannot speak up against me.” The wizard grabbed four screws from under his robe. “This plate and these screws are enchanted and will bind your demonic words.” One by one, he pressed his boney forefinger against the screws and pushed them into the plate.

  Odder tried to scream, but the plate suppressed any sound. He thrashed, trying to avoid the unbearable pain. The pain only sharpened until he collapsed on the ground, writhing. The wizard grabbed Odder’s hair and turned him over, then placed a gold coin on each eye.

  Odder convulsed, and sour foam spewed from his mouth. His breathing became shallow and rapid while his flesh smoldered, giving off a spoiled-burnt odor like meat thrown into a fire. The wizard chanted words in old Elven, causing the spells in the air to plunge into the Odder’s chest like a flashing dagger.

  A muffled roar rose under Odder and grew louder like the sound of a thousand goblins charging through the castle’s defenses. Light erupted from the markings on Odder’s left forearm. Claws sprouted from his fingertips and horns shot out of Odder’s forehead, throwing pieces of skull and blood into the wizard’s face.

  He snapped one chain and grabbed Edan by the throat. Drugan swooped in behind a wall of blinding light to free the High Wizard as the King grabbed one of the floating words, wrapping it around Odder’s arm and securing it to the ground once more.

  “This is foolishness!” shouted the King.

  “The exorcism must go on!” Edan protested.

  “No! There is too much at stake.” The King removed a small mirror from his cloak and broke it over Edan’s head.

  The High Wizard cried out and vanished into the minuscule reflective shards.

  Odder’s rage regressed, and a sudden silence overtook the chaos. The pain drained from his body leaving a desolate hole and a restless mind. Only the onset of darkness gave him peace.

  CHAPTER 9

  A TENDER HEALER

  The radiance of Kellas warmed Odder’s face, and he stretched out his arms. With a wide yawn, he opened his eyes and blinked, struggling to gain his bearings. He found himself standing amongst the fields outside the castle walls. The aroma of sweet honey with a slight hint of bitter citrus filled the air. Odder gleamed. He knew, in an instant, the scent of Mulder berries.

  Farmers gathered in the fields, picking this magical fruit from the bushes and placed them into their wicker baskets. With every touch, the shrubs erupted into different shades of reds, blues, greens, yellows, and even purples.

  Several laughing elflings darted between and around the farmers. They chased each other through the shrubs, playing a game of wizards versus beasts. A youthful lassie with long black hair giggled as she ran by Odder’s legs, almost knocking him down. She stopped a few steps away from him and turned back to meet his eyes with an innocent grin. Odder smiled back. Her piercing blue eyes seemed familiar, but he struggled to remember from where.

  Her smile dissolved into a grim expression. Her lips moved, but sound failed to escape. He knelt in front of her.

  “What’s wrong? What are you trying to say?”

  She pointed past him and whispered, “Your House. It’s on fire.” Odder peered over his shoulder; his face turned pale at the sight of the castle walls collapsing. Smoke and flames billowed over the wooden structures, which screeched as they fell. His home resembled an ancient ruin. He leaped to his feet but froze, wrestling with two immediate thoughts.

  I need to run! – I need to help!

  His heart ripped inside his tight chest waiting for an answer. He glanced at the other elves standing motionless.

  “Why are you standing there?” he shouted. “Run!” He grabbed the elfling’s arm and sprinted.

  “Help!” a faint voice cried out. “Odder, please help me.”

  The voice pierced his consciousness, and he froze. He stood paralyzed as if hexed.

  I know that voice from my childhood – whispers any child would recognize. “Mother?”

  His spirit withdrew, leaving him in a dismal pool of grief. He took a deep breath and let go of the elfling’s arm.

  “Get to safety!” he told her.

  Her indifferent look defied her character. She stared back at him with wide eyes.

  With uneasiness, he turned toward the soaring inferno and ran in the direction of the voice. He didn’t stop until he stood in front of the thirty-foot-high entry designed to protect the castle from all forms of invasion. Yet, like cackling carvers hacking apart their dinner, the fire consumed the massive doors until they buckled, creaked, and collapsed to the ground.

  He dodged left and right to evade the flames as he ran through the blazing archway. He lifted his arm to cover his eyes, trying in vain to protect them from the heat.

  “Mother, where are you?”

  “Help Odder! Over here!”

  He staggered over to a small, feminine figure lying in the dirt. Long silver and black hair covered the right side of her head, but flames charred the other side beyond recognition. She reached out for Odder, but the fire scorched her skin making it black and crisp like a beast on a spit. Odder gagged at the sight and stench.

  “Come to me, dear,” she whispered, her face splitting into a gruesome smile.

  As he took a step, a ring of fire erupted around her.

  “I can’t,” he cried in a cracking voice.

  “You must!” she screamed, reaching for him once more.

  He tried again, but this time, three creatures manifested from the shadows. The first possessed the head, horns, and massive upper body of a bull with flames spilling from its eyes and mouth. The second creature stood tall with its flesh ripped from its bones. Rags and torn armor hung from its delicate frame, its skull frozen in an expression of misery. The final creature resembled an insect standing on only four legs. Six arms with thin claws protruded from its sides and an enormous mouth with hundreds of jagged teeth, nested in the middle of its chest. Tiny appendages circled the orifice and waved about as if to draw food into the opening. All at once the creatures grabbed the woman and disappeared into the dense smoke.

  “NO!” Odder shouted, lunging forward.

  Her final scream was one word – his name – echoing, as the last of her silhouette faded in the distance.

  He tried to follow, but the smoke overwhelmed him. With every breath, the fire burned his throat, and heat filled his lungs like smoldering leaves. He fell to his knees in despair. Exhausted, he clutched his chest.

  “No… no… no.”

  “Wake up. Odder, wake up.”

  His eyes snapped open. He squirmed, trying to regain the sensation in his feet and arms before pushing himself up to a sitting position on his bed.

  “Everything’s alright. You’re having a bad dream,” said a soft voice.

  “A dream?” Odder grimaced and shook his head. “Yes, of course.” He rubbed his eyes and blinked to clear them. “Aimma? What are you doing here?”

  “I’m tending your wounds. Are you alrigh
t?”

  “Not really.” He attempted to lift himself off the bed but let out a groan and fell back. “What happened?”

  “You suffered injuries when the High Wizard Edan performed a spell on you.”

  He rubbed the side of his head. “My head feels foggy. I can’t remember much. How long have I been out?”

  “I don’t know the exact details, but the ritual didn’t go as planned.” Aimma moistened a towel and pressed it against Odder’s forehead. “You’ve been unconscious for three days.”

  “What?” He snapped upright, pushing the towel away. “Three days? Did I miss the Masquerade Ball?”

  “No,” she replied with a frown, “Is the ball really your first concern upon waking. Aren’t you forgetting something? Besides, it’s tonight, and I don’t think you’ll be in any condition to dance.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry, I’m still adjusting. But pity the king won’t see me dance.” Odder smiled, proud of his wit, but immediately cringed. “The screws.”

  “What screws?” Aimma asked.

  “I remember the wizard screwing a plate into my face.”

  “Just relax,” she said, pressing the towel to his face again. “I examined you, and there are no screws.”

  He pushed her hands away and touched his face. “How? Did you use magic to heal me?”

  “Magic healing doesn’t work on you – or did you forget?” She cupped his chin in her hand and peered into his eyes. “No screws, I promise.”

  Odder squinted and rubbed the back of his neck. “But I remember.”

  “Perhaps it was part of the spell.”

  He scratched his head. “It seemed so real – the pain.”

  “Well, your face is fine now.” Aimma smiled and reached for his hands. “How are your wrists?”

  “What happened to my wrists?” He held out his arms and stared at the wrappings.

  She raised an eyebrow. “They were severely burned.”

  He took notice of her kind, soft face, and the doe-like gray eyes that looked after him twice now. “Thank you for helping me.”