Fallen Sepulchre

by J D Franx

  Dominique stared for only a few seconds. “I will return you home,” he said. “The rest will be a decision for another day.” Bowing, he turned and walked out of the throne room.

  “That was bracing.” Voranna smiled. “Perhaps you should tell me where my soon-to-be-born DeathWizard is? Before you end up spitting blood on the end of a Northman war axe.”

  Sythrnax sighed heavily. “Very well. One of your fellow Sisters will have the child with her in about a year, whether it was born to her or not. The Syddic priests were not sure if it is a new birth line, or Kael’s, or perhaps even—”

  “That mangy mongrel the Cardessa has been force breeding,” Voranna growled. “The one born at the same time as Kael? He’s a simpleton, scarred by the magic that created him.” Sythrnax nodded as she continued. “Three years go by, and now, he possibly impregnates a Sister? I do not believe it, and that is not good enough, Sythrnax. That inbred dog will only spawn another simpleton.” Magic flared bright green in Voranna’s hands.

  “It won’t be the only one,” Sythrnax sputtered quickly and made a futile effort to protect himself but failed.

  “Speak! The truth, or you will die a slow and miserable death,” the new Cardessa demanded. Agitated by her anger, the magic sizzled violently in her hands.

  “Fine,” Sythrnax growled, holding out his hand. “Before the snows fall in just over a year, there will be at least three DeathWizards in Talohna—possibly more. One or two will be born to the Black Sun approaching—by your Sisters or others, we do not know. The few priests in our Syddic Order who have been freed cannot tell us more. With Giddeon Zirakus imprisoned by the DragonKin, I would imagine several could survive their births during the Black Sun coming in less than eight months. There is no one left to track them down and kill them. Find them all, and you’ll have everything you have ever wanted. There should be at least three of them born.”

  The new Cardessa scoffed, whirled, and headed for the door.

  “Voranna?” Sythrnax barked.

  She turned, raising an eyebrow.

  “The filth in my blood?” He reminded her.

  The Dead Sister snorted. “Can’t help you, Sythrnax. The only person who could,” she glanced to her left and down at the remains of the Cardessa, “is in too many pieces to tell you.”

  “How long, witch?” he snarled.

  Voranna bobbed her head back and forth in a mockery of thought. “If the stories about the Ancient’s ability to heal themselves rapidly is true, I imagine you’ll stay ahead of it for a year before the initial effects return and you die. Slowly. And hopefully painfully.”

  “There has to be another answer, Voranna.” He persisted as panic re-asserted itself. It was a feeling he disliked immensely.

  The new Cardessa smiled at him. “You know of anyone who has enough control over demonic magic that they can draw it from your blood without killing you?” she asked.

  His eyes went wide as the answer came to him, but Voranna said it first. “Yes. He could have, but you killed him, too, didn’t you? There were many reasons why Kael was our savior, Sythrnax. Freeing us from the dependency of demons was only one of many. His control over the magics of the afterlife was another.” She turned on her heel and left the throne room without another word.

  Sythrnax relaxed, finally. “You were listening?” he asked as the Vikress entered the throne room from behind a curtain at the back of the destroyed throne. She paused at his side.

  “I did.” She grabbed his arm and stared at where Mydea had scratched him. Its progression had drastically slowed once his natural healing kicked in. “You have grown slow in battle, brother. I suggest you correct that problem.”

  “The warriors of this world have produced no significant battle challenges. Yet, the Dead Sisters magic is a vile, putrid filth. They are unlike any foe we have encountered before. Nothing like them existed in our time.”

  “Because they would have been executed for even thinking about demonic magic, let alone using it. This world and the dosa within it are soft as if all we accomplished was for nothing. The magic here is pathetic and weak. The Dead Sisters will fall in line if they have their savior—in whatever form that takes—and if not, we will wipe them from existence and purge them from all of history. I do not believe it will come to that. We will watch the Sisters closely. But, the Kai’Sar. Three of these DeathWizards, as they are now known, are halfway to a very serious problem.”

  “Yet we will need four of them in the coming years,” Sythrnax added.

  The Vikress rubbed her forehead in frustration. “True, and six would be ideal. But forget that for now. It is a matter that does not require our attention currently. The pirate, however, does. He will not fall in line.”

  Sythrnax shrugged. “Once the Sepulchre is destroyed, the remaining seals will open, and he can take us home. We will destroy Havarrow and his new ships before they leave the beaches of our homeland unless he swears fealty to you.”

  The Vikress nodded. “It begins again, brother. When the blood of the Lost enters this world, we can begin. I would never have thought being exiled for so many millennia would get us closer to freeing what was stolen from us so very long ago.”

  “The magic granted to us by the true gods of Talohna,” Sythrnax said and smiled. “I have not felt our magic for so long I have nearly forgotten it.”

  “Soon, brother. But after we free our people and return to our beloved homeland,” the Vikress said as a frown marred her forehead.

  Chapter Two

  “My decision to stay in Stillwater permanently has finally paid off. Hidden away in an alcove in the library is a journal from what I believe to be a true Ancient being. It has taken months to translate just a few pages, but I have discovered that this Ancient was a member of a religious faction of their governing body—a high ranking… priest, of what was called the Syddic Order. I will devote most of my research and personal time to translating the rest of this journal. If only Giddeon and that young red-haired… Ember, that was her name. If they were here, this would be much faster. I have sent word to Giddeon and will wait for his arrival, but they have only been gone for a few months. No word has reached us about his mission.

  I hope this priest will have much more to tell me by the time they return to Stillwater. They will be so excited to learn of this Ancient priest who my fellow scholars have taken to calling the ghoul. I have tried to tell them repeatedly the name is spelled Ghul, but they are young and their mirth helps lighten the day...”

  Salabriel Aranasse.

  Stillwater Dig, 5025 PC

  DYRANNAI FOREST

  FIELD OF THE FALLEN 5025 PC

  Agony assaulted every sense Ember could recognize. Her brain sparked as if it were a sleeping limb trying to wake from numbness. Moving was a mistake, and pain sliced through her arms and legs. Slowly opening her eyes, she struggled to place where she was.

  A massive forest surrounded her and those she had jumped with. Directly in front of her stood the granite pillars of a large mausoleum, and just like Yrlissa had described, black vines were etched into the surfaces. They covered every inch of the pillars. A heavy set of polished gray and white doors kept the crypts below secured. The weight in her lap dragged her attention back to their immediate situation, and she stared down at Kael dead in her arms. Their last few days came rushing back on her.

  All the running, the fighting, and the death bombarded her.

  “No, Kael,” she cried. Pulling him closer, she held him tight and buried her face in his heavy cloak. Her heart ached as the odors ingrained in the cloak wafted up her nose. Blood, smoke, magic, and death was all she could smell. The body in her lap did not even smell like Kael, and her tears continued while panic nearly overwhelmed her entire being. “This can’t happen. Please, God, help me.” She prayed, already knowing no answer was coming.

  A scuff of feet in the grass and a moan made her glance over her shoulder. She saw everyone she had realm jumped with from the Animus Seal below Kazzad
or Mountain were unconscious. Everyone except a young blond-haired girl no older than twelve. Ember recalled the concussive shock from activating the jump spell and the agony that had torn through her head. The little girl stared at her with startling, all too familiar yellow eyes before turning to the forest and bolting.

  Ember suddenly understood what had happened to her jump magic, and why.

  The young girl had hitched a ride on her spell, throwing the power needed out of balance. The last second correction to her magic had saved everyone, even if she did black out upon arriving. When the little girl reached the tree line of the forest, she stopped.

  She turned to Ember and pointed at Max. “He will die soon,” she said and rushed away, disappearing into the forest.

  Ember wiped her eyes and focused on Max.

  Grabbing her alchemy pack, she eased Kael off her lap and scooted to Max’s side. As she did, she desperately tried to pull herself together. She needed to be able to help him. The sword wound caused by one of Sythrnax's warriors was deep, and his punctured side bled heavily. She dropped the useless pack and closed her eyes, forcing her senses into Max's body and attempting to follow the swathe of destruction caused by the enemy’s weapon. Ember searched the shattered remnants of her mind for a spell to heal a mortal wound. More of the magical wall holding back her Fae genetic memory collapsed, and a trickle of Fae knowledge entered her mind, accompanied by something else—something different.

  She felt... different. Her entire body became unknown, and she gasped as the pain and aches caused by her injuries and her fatigue from travel melted away as if they were never there. The rumors and stories Yrlissa had told her about the Fae became a reality as her Fae accelerated healing magic kicked in. More importantly, a myriad of spells came with the change, including one to save Max. The words throbbed against her mind and gave her a headache.

  “Sianas Afaney,” she said aloud. The spell slipped off her tongue without any conscious thought. Her side split open when the spell activated. Ember bit her bottom lip to suppress a scream and waited for her new accelerated healing to ease the pain, understanding the purpose of the spell. It had transferred Max’s wound onto her body so her accelerating healing would mend the wound at a quickened pace.

  She tried once more as her side began to heal.

  “Sianas Afaney,” she spat out through clenched teeth. Grabbing her bleeding side, Ember clung to the magic and forced her senses deep into Max’s body to the point where the enemy’s sword had stopped doing damage. She released the magic, and it shifted the deepest part of his wound to her own insides.

  Ember screamed. She was unable to move all the damage at once. Even with her accelerated healing, the transfer of damaged tissue, nerves, and organs was overwhelming. Ember struggled to keep the magic active and to concentrate through the agony.

  It was a vicious cycle. As the wound and pain would fade with one spell cycle, she was forced to repeat it to fully heal Max’s body. The longer she pushed, the more unbearable it became. The misery increased dramatically, and her consciousness wavered until she nearly slipped away. Pushing the magic harder one last time, she fell backwards while the wound in Max's side closed, but it was only partially healed. Pain radiated from Ember's lacerated insides, and she stared into the blue sky, sobbing as she waited for her magic to offer up relief.

  Slowly dragging herself upright, she checked on Max. His breathing was slow but steady. She could feel how much blood he had lost, and he was far from fully healed. The spell had closed the wound, stopped the bleeding, and mended muscle and nerve, but rushing the process had left the wound extremely fragile. It would take weeks for him to recover, but he would get better if he did not push himself.

  Ember eased her way back to Kael's body and snuggled into him. Something crunched under her knee so she glanced down. A broken glass vial lay on the ground between them. Picking up the chunk of glass, she carefully examined it before realizing it must have been Kael’s. The label was partially missing, but she could still make out some of the letters: .B. urge. Holding it tight in her palm, she she cuddled back into Kael and passed out with her head on his chest.

  DYRANNAI FOREST

  DAY AND A HALF LATER

  "Please, Max. Go talk to her. She hasn't moved since yesterday."

  Wincing, he struggled to sit against the fallen logs surrounding their campsite. "What am I supposed to do, Yrlissa? Pry her off Kael's dead body? I don't know what to do for her… Fuck, Yrlissa. I barely know what to do for myself. Kael was the closest friend I had," Working to stand, he grimaced as a wave of pain rolled through his body. Ember had yet to leave Kael’s side. He stared at the Elvehn assassin. Swollen and blood-shot amber eyes stared back.

  “Leave her be,” Aravae said softly. “We have several hours left. Ember knows what must be done.”

  "She won't even speak to me.”

  “She is hurt and angry, Yrlissa,” Aravae said. The Elvehn woman’s control over her emotions was not surprising. Like most Elvehn, Max guessed Aravae’s mourning would be done privately during a time called the Commune, and it would only begin after more important matters were taken care of. “You lied. We are the first people to stand on this land, in this forest, for over five thousand years. My family has not lived here for thousands of years before that, and yet, you have been here before. You knew the area well enough for Ember to transport us here safely, and you withheld valuable knowledge from the one person who could have used it to save my son—to save the man she loved. She may never forgive you.”

  “Speaking of which,” Max snapped. “If you knew Ember could jump us like that, why the fuck didn’t we jump to Kael sooner?”

  “Because,” Yrlissa retorted. “She wasn’t exactly in the condition to jump us, was she?”

  “Don’t you dare play semantics with me,” he growled. “There were plenty of chances before she saved that bastard Northman’s life.”

  “When, Max?” Yrlissa challenged. “After the jump to Corynth when her heart failed? Or maybe after she healed that child in Dasal? I did what I had to. It saved our lives in Kazzador City. It was fraught with risk, and the jump nearly killed us all.”

  “That’s bullshit, Yrlissa,” he snarled. “You were protecting your secrets. Again! At some point, we could have jumped. Ember would have, I know it, and she’s a hell of a lot tougher than you give her credit for. Kael might still be alive had we…” He pressed his left palm to his forehead. “Fuck. We didn’t have to lose... We lost him… I can’t… Goddammit.”

  “Easy,” Aravae said as she put a hand on Max’s arm. “He has a point, Yrlissa, and Ember may never forgive you. I do not know. However, we have other concerns right now. When the time draws closer, I will talk to her and help her prepare Kael for the afterlife. It is a mother's… it is my duty.”

  Yrlissa sighed with frustration. “I understand, but we need to do it soon so that I can preserve his body before the sun disappears from the sky. I need Mylla's rays of light for the spell. Our only other option is to cremate him, and I will not allow that to happen."

  Aravae nodded her agreement.

  DormaSai’s king, Nekrosa Kohl, and his queen, Sephi, overheard their conversation.

  “You are quite concerned about preserving his body,” the King said. “Why?”

  “I… it is safer,” Yrlissa said.

  Nekrosa frowned and glanced at his wife. “So, the scrolls were right?" He smiled, and he turned back to Yrlissa. "Why didn't you tell her?"

  "Tell her what?" Max demanded.

  Yrlissa sighed with frustration again but ignored Max as she spoke to Nekrosa. "The little I could have told her could have been tortured out of her. I know firsthand what Dead Sisters can do to make you talk. Even now, it is still knowledge that can be used against us should Sythrnax get his hands on it."

  "Told her what?" Max growled, his temper flaring. "I won't ask a third time without busting your fuckin' head, Nekrosa."

  Sephi stepped in front of Max but looked t
o Yrlissa. "May I? Tell him what we know?" she asked. Max calmed visibly as if her voice had a soothing effect.

  "Fine. I suspect you two know more than most anyway," Yrlissa replied.

  Sephi nodded and faced Max. "From what we discovered hidden inside the catacombs below the library in Drae'Kahn during the rebellion, Kael's kind were created by the gods to help Talohna's races fight a war—one that they were badly losing. We assumed, like most people, that it was for the DemonKind Wars."

  Max scoffed, but it was Yrlissa who interrupted as she frowned. "Created by the gods and the Lesser races, and with far too much magic. For a war, yes, but not that war."

  Sephi nodded at the corrections and continued, "We found one scroll that told us about the Guardians. How every wizard like Kael had a Guardian, and that person had a wide array of responsibilities. Most of the documents were faded and unreadable, so we never learned all the Guardian's tasks, but we did learn one. It said should their charge die, they had to do everything in their power to lay the wizard to rest, bound by a stasis-preservation hybrid spell. It had to be done before the second day of death had passed. We assumed it was to avoid releasing the DeathWizard’s chaotic magic back into the world, or to avoid growing black deathflowers perhaps. The normal coloured flowers are dangerous enough. The rest of the info was lost, but we have scholars searching the catacombs every day.” Looking over her shoulder, she stated, “You should have told Ember what you are. She had a right to know."

  Yrlissa frowned, and her nose turned up with disgust. "It is not as simple as that. The magics that combined to make wizards like Kael were flawed, volatile, and wildly unpredictable from the very beginning of their creation. Seven lives were sacrificed—one of a god—so their magic could be taken and used for the ritual.” Yrlissa shook her head as if trying hard to control her anger. “Magic is not designed to create living weapons. At times, it took everything we had just to keep a DeathWizard under control, to stop the corruption from eating their souls, and when we couldn't? We had to kill our life-long charges... our friends... our family… I didn’t want Ember to watch me do that if Kael had succumbed." Yrlissa covered her mouth with her hand and walked away.