She felt as Shale was thrown halfway across the clearing by the concussive blast. Oh no! Lynia wailed within her mind. She knew she needed to take control of the situation, but the panic was making the task difficult. Fear made routine tasks more challenging, and difficult tasks seem impossible. She fought to separate her mind from the collective consciousness of the others. It felt like she was pushing a boulder uphill, but after indeterminable moments she was successful. Once she had done so, she felt like a great weight had been lifted off her chest and that she could breathe properly. Her analytical mind began to reassert itself.
What do I need to do? Control the scene. Administer aid. Evacuate to a secure location.
Lynia ran through the list in her head. Sumnu and Shale had taught her the basics of warfare; it was their lessons that she was reciting. She tried to think of the bigger picture. Each battle was just a part of the greater conflict. She knew that their position was likely compromised. She knew they were about halfway between Bastion and Ithicus, and there were bound to be more Collective forces in the area. There had to be support personnel and miscellaneous camp followers for the cult members that were present in the clearing. The Vallyr weren’t like the Scourge. They couldn’t simply travel through the woods without a baggage train and logistics personnel. Lynia knew that if they were stumbled upon now, it was likely that they would be completely eradicated.
Mystics, set up a perimeter. I want to know if we have incoming forces. She issued orders rapidly. Lurkers, begin scouting for signs of enemy locations. Enticers, on me.
She moved forward into the killing fields and saw bodies with limbs ripped from their sockets, silhouettes that looked like melted candles, and corpses that looked like wild beasts had ravaged them. She felt the urge to throw up almost overpower her, but she took deep breaths through her mouth. Even the smell of melted and dying flesh was an assault on the senses. She had heard of dead things smelling sickly sweet, but clearly, they had never smelled the recently expired. It smelled like blood, shit, and rotting meat. Tears dripped down Lynia’s face. Startled, she flicked them away with claw-tipped fingers. It was just another reminder of how she had left her former life behind. The dead and the dying made her think of Merus. He must have died on a similar battlefield in similar conditions.
I’m not cut out for this. She wasn’t sure what it would take to press on, but she wasn’t sure she had it. Merus would continue. The thought crossed her mind unbidden, and it made the tears fall harder. Merus would continue. She thought again. This time the voice was firmer in her mind. She needed to do this. She needed to be there in a way that Merus couldn’t be anymore; he would’ve accepted the position as the First Mystic. He would be heartbroken seeing his comrades bleeding out on the battlefield, but he would press on. That was the kind of man he was. If Lynia did anything less, she would betray his memory.
She rubbed her eyes roughly as if the pressure would stop the tears and picked her way through the gore-strewn field. A handful of Enticers trailed behind her. They didn’t have many of the priests to go around. She sent a silent prayer to Lucidus that they would be enough. She needed to find Shale. She was the most important member of their party. Lynia didn’t want to think about what Slate would do if he found his queen had fallen while in her care. He didn’t seem to be the very forgiving type, and no matter what the explanation, she knew that he would be annoyed at a loss. She merely needed to think about the dead elders of Woodhaven to remember that fact about her Scion. He did that only as a sense of removed loyalty to Merus. He had said as much. For Shale, he would burn down the world and piss on its ashes.
There was a type of animal magnetism that drew Lynia to Shale’s position. She felt like if she closed her eyes, she could point to where the Paramour would be lying. She knew exactly where she would be. Her presence shone through the Scourgemind like a fallen beacon begging for rescue. She gasped when she witnessed the state that Shale was in. Lynia bent down, rolled her over, and brushed the bloodstained mud from her angelic face. Lynia studied her with a logical eye. She had lacerations and rent flesh all over her body. They decorated her skin like mercurial tiger stripes. Somehow, the silver, metallic color of her blood made it seem more absurd that she had been seriously injured. For Lynia’s whole life, Shale had been something more than mortal. She had existed as a peerless warrior and beauty.
Lynia looked down her face and studied her torso. There was something horrendously wrong, and, at first, her mind couldn’t accept what was missing. Shale’s entire right arm was simply missing from the shoulder. Lynia glanced up and saw the limb further afield; it had been wholly blown from the Paramour’s body. The group of Enticer’s circled the two women, and Lynia glanced up at them.
Well? She hissed. Heal her. One of the Enticers knelt and studied Shale’s prone form. He prodded at some of the wounds and hovered over the shoulder before responding to Lynia.
I’m sorry, First Mystic. We cannot heal our queen. Look closely, he said calmly. There is already fresh skin covering her wounds underneath all of the blood. Her body is already healing. If we try to attach her arm and perform some manner of magic, we could do more harm than good.
Lynia listened to the Enticer’s advice without responding. She methodically checked every wound to confirm what he said. She realized that he was right. Underneath all of the blood, fresh but thin scales had covered every opening. Even the shoulder had closed up. If Lynia wasn’t mistaken, Shale would be completely fine outside of the missing limb.
Okay, she said more calmly than she felt. Start triaging the wounded. Focus on those who are most severely injured and bring them back just enough to let their natural regeneration take over. Make sure you group them close enough that their regenerative effects are strengthened.
The Enticers nodded and then began their grim search through the battlefield. The Vallyr had indeed struck a blow against the Scourge forces. Lynia looked around in horrified silence, still cradling Shale in her lap. She couldn’t help but smooth the queen’s hair away from her face. The rhythmic motion soothed her somehow. She knew it didn’t help, but just the act of caring for someone else in a small way helped keep the sense of loss and depth of death away.
A single Lurker approached her, but Lynia’s eyes looked past him at the Enticers that were dragging bodies close to each other and laying them against one another like cords of firewood. It was a shame. These majestic, terrifying warriors were being reduced to nothing more than fuel for the fire.
First Mystic, the Lurker said respectfully. There are Collective soldiers inbound on our position. The explosion has attracted them.
Lynia looked up at the man sharply. Her blue eyes turned frosty as her mind turned over the implications.
How far away are they? She demanded.
They’re still about an hour away. The darkness and the treacherous terrain are slowing them. They’re composed of foot soldiers. We have a scout shadowing them. You should be able to search the Scourgemind and get an update on their location when you need to.
Lynia nodded and did as the Lurker suggested. She found herself riding the sensation of the other Lurker. She saw everything she did; she smelled every scent and felt every particle of dirt that crunched between her talons. Looking just ahead, she saw a medium-sized party of Collective regulars. They wore ash-darkened chainmail and carried a variety of weapons. The Collective didn’t seem to have anything approaching a regular uniform. These particular forces carried whatever was close by. Sometimes, the odd man had a lance or woodcutter’s ax, but many of them carried simple spears and wooden bucklers. She noticed one Vallyr among them. He was a hulking, brutish member of the species, and he was wearing a black padded tunic and breeches. Unlike the rest of the troops, he was the only one that didn’t seem to be in a rush. He had two large sickle-shaped swords that he swung in lazy revolutions. As they walked, he spun and slowly moved through combat forms. From Lynia’s position, he seemed infinitely bored. She returned to her own body immediately
.
Keep me informed of the army’s progress, she ordered. Additionally, I didn’t get a good count of their forces. The last was a statement, but the Lurker took it as a question.
Yes, First Mystic. He paused. We haven’t gotten an accurate number yet, either.
Lynia nodded. It wasn’t ideal, but she knew the Lurkers were doing their best. They had all been personally trained by Matek and the rest of the Circle. Lynia never had any problems with one of their number. She hoped that one day, the other Scourge leaders would think the same thing about her line.
Alright, Lynia decided. Let’s head out. We can’t take on anything stronger than a housefly in our current condition. We need to find a place to rest and recover before we press the fight against the Collective.
Aye, First Mystic. Lynia could feel through the Scourgemind that the man was relieved to be given an order, any order. In moments of crisis, soldiers looked to their leadership for guidance. The worst thing that could happen to a unit was having a leader that refused to decide in those moments. Lynia felt that weight of responsibility for the first time. I have to make Merus proud, Lynia said to herself. Merus did what he needed to when the Collective attacked Lighthaven. She had more leadership experience than he ever did. All he wanted to do was study his magic and explore the Wyldwood. Lynia had at least garnered experience from helping the elders of the village.
She stood up and heaved Shale’s limp body over her shoulders. It was somewhat awkward, but she managed. She heard slight murmuring from the Paramour as Lynia shifted her into a more comfortable position higher on her shoulders. Lucidus had imbued all of the Scourge with more strength than their frames suggested. Lynia discovered that she had no trouble hoisting Shale’s form onto her back and walking even though she was slighter than most of the other Scourge. After ensuring that she could hold the woman, she reached out through the Scourgemind to get an understanding of how badly they had been mauled.
Almost a quarter of their numbers had been killed outright in the explosions. Another quarter had been severely wounded, but it looked like they would recover, especially if they remained close together. The Enticers were walking around and healing only the worst wounds. Everyone was aware that the dogs of the Collective would be hounding their retreat. The Enticers were focusing on those they could stabilize for movement. Lynia frowned. They would just be able to take all their non-ambulatory wounded with them, but they wouldn’t be able to carry the dead as well. They still needed scouts to range ahead, and they still needed to be able to defend themselves should they be caught by their foes or a wild beast in the woods. They wouldn’t be able to do both of those things with their dead brethren over their shoulders.
Further, their speed would be drastically decreased. As it stood, there weren’t enough able-bodied men and women for them to take any breaks. Everyone would be carrying somebody else or performing scout and guard duty, and many had minor injuries that would preclude them from carrying anything but their demons.
She frowned at a sudden realization. I’ll have to leave our dead to the Collective. Her mind vehemently recoiled from the fact. She wouldn’t allow them to become trophies or sources of fuel for their soul magic. She needed to do something, but she wasn’t sure. She wasn’t strong enough to conjure magic to vaporize the bodies and still have time to flee. She knew she didn’t have many options, so she did the only thing that had helped her in the past: she prayed.
Lord of Light, I know you have no reason to help me. But I must ask for your guidance and your help. We’re in a bad spot, and I’m not sure we’re going to make it.
There was a beat of silence before a feminine voice responded into her mind. Child, I have every reason to help you. You and your queen have done me an excellent service this evening.
Lynia was surprised that the Lord of Light had deigned to reply. I-I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Lord.
A girlish chuckle resounded through her head. That’s quite alright, child. I’ll explain the particulars to Slate when he gets a chance to speak with me. There was a slight pause. Which I expect will be sooner than he realizes.
Lynia remained silent. There was something about having a god in your head to instill a sense of healthy fear and respect.
Now, back to you, child. What did you need from me? Lucidus asked.
Lynia thought carefully about what to ask for. Lucidus seemed to have very clear logic on exchanging favors for favors. To Lynia’s knowledge, the Lord of Light had never done anything completely for free. She needed to make sure she got exactly what she needed and avoided asking for anything foolish.
I need two things, my Lord. First, I need a safe place to recover. Lynia took a deep breath. This might be considered the more excessive of her requests. Second, I don’t want the Collective to be able to claim a single corpse from the Scourge. I don’t want my brothers and sisters to be dishonored in such a way.
Once again, there was a pause through the Scourgemind while Lucidus considered her follower’s request. Finally, the Lord responded, and Lynia could feel the smile in her voice. Child, I led you to this place. Of course, I will guide you from it. As for the bodies of your comrades, never fear, Vallyr trash are not worthy of placing their hands on your brothers and sisters. They will be consumed by my Cleansing Flame and be sent to the beyond where their souls will remain at peace, untouched by Vallyrian soul magic. The last part she seemed to spit out. Lynia could hear the love in Lucidus’ voice when she spoke about the Scourge and the hate she felt when discussing the Vallyr. It felt a little like Slate himself. He gave extreme loyalty to those that served him and nothing but winter’s wrath to those who did not.
Thank you, my Lord.
You’re welcome, child.
Lynia felt the presence depart. She had not realized its arrival, but the absence of light and warmth made her feel cold and lonely in comparison. Soon after, she felt a tugging sensation at the end of her awareness. She looked around at her troops and could sense their readiness to depart. Breezing through the Scourgemind, she felt righteous anger coming from her forces like heat waves in the summer. They radiated enough excitement and hate to keep the winter chill at bay. At that moment, Lynia was incredibly proud of them. There was no crying to be found, no overwhelming sadness, and no self-pity. They were ready to do what was necessary to bring defeat to the Vallyr. Lynia realized that she could do no less than them. It’s what Merus would have done.
With a last look around the clearing, she ordered the Scourge to follow her.
We fly!
She chose her words carefully. She didn’t tell the warriors that they were fleeing. She didn’t tell them that they were retreating or that the Collective had won a victory. No, they were merely finding a new place to launch a renewed attack. The Scourge did not withdraw, they did not lose, and they did not flee; those were actions for lesser warriors and lesser peoples. The Scourge destroyed or converted any or all that opposed them. This force that pursued them would soon learn that their quarry had fangs.
CHAPTER 15: THE CULTIST PLOT
GENERAL BLUDTYR ROLLED over in the plush bed that she had fallen asleep in after her enthusiastic celebrations last night. She had finally found a pretty plaything in the city of Ithicus. She opened her eyes and allowed them to adjust to the cave-like darkness that permeated the room. This was the private chamber of the High Lord David dal Luvyth. There wasn’t a Vallyr alive that enjoyed the sun. Most chose to either place their bedchambers deep within their domiciles to keep the intruding rays from penetrating their sleeping chambers. Still, some, like Luvyth, kept them on an exterior wall but covered any windows with heavy drapery.
Bludtyr stretched and sighed contentedly. Her body was sore yet satisfied. The high lord had been less than willing participant in last night’s festivities, but her unique blend of magic had caused him to rise to the occasion. Her eyes traced the splatter of blood across the ceiling and the walls. It had dried into a deep tar color in the hours since it had been s
pilled. She followed the trail of blood down the wall until her eyes rested on the source of the decorations.
David dal Luvyth shivered in heavy cobalt manacles. They had been welded to the floor using magic. The high lord’s superior strength and speed would be hampered by the consuming chains that bound him. It was a common enough enchantment in the Collective. These types of bindings were used on everything from slaves to sacrifices by the Vallyr. However, few of them worked on the Vallyr. Their very nature was to consume sources of sustenance for others, and that typically meant there wasn’t enough wood on the fire—so to speak—for the manacles to drain away. However, Bludtyr had grown exceptionally skilled at adjusting the enchantment so that it worked on the soul rather than the mana found within the body. The latter the Vallyr could hide away. The former couldn’t escape the manacle’s draw.
“P-please let me go, General,” the man stuttered when he realized that Bludtyr had awoken.
Bludtyr raised an eyebrow and laughed. “Ah, I do so love to hear begging this early in the morning.” She gave the man a small smile. “What was it you who said to me, high lord? ‘I will never give you command of my forces, bitch.’”
Bludtyr watched the blood drain out of the man’s voice. He remembered all too well how arrogant he had been when the General first approached his settlement. It had been some time since he had seen a Collective general so far south. They typically stayed in the north where their services were needed. Down on the coast, they weren’t generally prevalent. The high lords raised their own armies to deal with insurrections or pirates on the water. They were mostly a self-sufficient settlement. They only required some trade, in the form of slaves, for their farms. They even had their own chapter of the Cult of the Leech. It wasn’t typical to have a full group of Cultists in a settlement their size. Cultists typically remained in larger population centers and sent members of the cult on pilgrimages through the rest of the Collective. When Luvyth had initially turned the General away, he was confident that there would be no reprisals. He had already worked out a protection agreement with the Cult, and most knew that the Cult was the actual authority in the Collective. The Patriarch was just a figurehead for their machinations.
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