by J D Franx
“You are correct. I saw the DemonKind seal and the black one who died on it just hours before it opened,” Dravik said, disappointed. “Your kind rely on magic too much, gorgeous. It will be your down fall someday.”
“It matters no longer.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Dravik growled. “The concern is here and now.”
“It’s why I came,” Eva replied.
“And it’s why you must leave now,” Dravik told her. “Once the Vascuul begin their attack, there will be too much magic in the air for even a Locke wizard to protect your jump.”
“I... I got us here... I’ll get us out,” Seifer huffed out, clearly tired and shaken. Blood dripped from his right ear and he kept shaking his head.
Dravik ignored him and instead turned back to the Fae Matriarch. “That jump should have killed you both. There’s only one explanation. How in the Nine Hells did the Locke family manage to keep their bloodline pure? The gods forbade it. You should not have gotten here.”
“What?” Seifer asked, mockingly wiggling his finger inside his ear as if he was having a hard time hearing.
Eva shook her head. “I don’t know, but I’m glad they did. Now, please, Dravik, go to the Elvehn seal and let the Ri’Tek have this one. Don’t let another of the great races— your race and our children’s race—become extinct.”
“The old and very young have already fled. The attack will come before we could evacuate my fighters and Draven’s priests, Eva. It is too late to run even if I wanted to, and I don’t. Sythrnax is out there. I can smell the bastard. The Host will stay and fight, and I will get one last chance to kill that backstabbin’ traitor. Now, get yourself clear before—”
A giant explosion rocked the fortress’ front gate. A second and third followed as the gates groaned under the stress and pressure of the detonations. Dravik stared in shock and awe as the gates that had kept them safe for over ten thousand years came crashing down.
“Defend the breach!” he yelled as a Vascuul dragon shoved its way through the opening. Dozens of Dwarven warriors and several priests obeyed immediately and the thump of two catapults rolled through the air while Dravik turned to Eva and kissed her briefly. “It was good to see you one last time, gorgeous, but you have to leave. Now. Or everything we sacrificed and the lives we will lose here today will be for nothing.”
Eva nodded and turned toward Seifer, grabbing his arm. “Get ready, Master Locke. We are leaving.”
“Eva?” Dravik asked.
“Yes, my love?”
“You tell her... tell her I’m sorry I never got to meet her.”
“I will. She was devastated she could not come with. Her and Yrlissa jumped through the Kasym twice after Kael’s death.”
“And a third jump this close would kill her,” Dravik said, finishing her sentence when she trailed off.
Eva nodded. “She will help save this world, I know it.”
Dravik laughed and a proud smile spread across his mouth from ear-to-ear. “How could she not?” he said softly. “She is our daughter.”
“I’m ready,” Seifer replied.
Tears ran down Eva’s cheeks as she smiled at Dravik. “You say hello to our boys for me when you get to Paradise, love,” she said and nodded to Seifer. A white light sparked around Eva and the Elder Wizard. The crack of magic reached Dravik’s ears just as he grabbed the two bags of DragonKin weapons and ran to assist his men. Dozens of Vascuul spilled through the gap as the dragon took to the sky.
Tossing the weapon bags to his men, Dravik pulled his axes from their sheathes and smiled.
“It is a good day to kill Ri’Tek. Tahl Vah Kai,” he muttered and banged his axes together. Black sparks jumped from the blades as the spell activated, and the first axe sunk into the flesh of a magically-mutated gorgon female while Dravik side-stepped its stream of spit venom. The creature screamed in agony as a dense fog flowed from the axe blade into her flesh. The DeathGod’s poison spread through the gorgon's veins like wildfire, and she was dead before Dravik pulled the axe from her scaly hide.
“Even you monsters cannot stand against Death’s magic and those who wield it,” he hissed. Spitting on the corpse, he waded deeper into the battle. The black corruption of death dripped from his axes as if possessed by a dark, living entity, and dozens of Vascuul fell dead in Dravik’s wake.
DAL DAGORE
The Dwarven brothers had retreated as far as they could as they fought. Dravik cursed as his last two shield sisters fell under the claws of a mutated creeper and the Gorgon Queen, Gahainna.
“Nasty viper,” he barked, stepping in front of Draven. “Come! I’ll add a match to that scar on your ugly mug I gave you an aeon ago!”
Gahainna hissed, but he easily sidestepped the spit poison. Draven shadowed him, also avoiding the sizzling acid as he chanted a prayer to Izotan for even more power. Dravik winced. Already the priests’ hands and arms were burnt black—scorched from the insane amount of power he had already released onto the enemy.
Gahainna hissed a second time, but no poison followed. “Dwarves,” she snarled, spitting air. “No fear to feed the frenzy of the scaled clans. Surrender, and face justice.”
Dravik shook his head as his brother’s chant continued. “I will not live on my knees, gorgon. You shouldn’t have, either. You should have accepted our offer and united the Deep.”
The creature shook her head. “For cold-blooded death is a mercy the Ri’Tek will never offer, even had we fought against them. Only the Black can free us.”
“Then you die here, Gahainna. The Black are long gone,” Dravik said, and a crooked smile crossed his lips. Draven’s prayer was complete, and he ducked as the Dwarven god’s power exploded from Draven’s hands. The white light raced for Gahainna, but the gorgon snatched the creeper from the ground and held it in front her body. The overgrown millipede’s shell cracked under the torrential magic as it detonated and threw her through the air.
Draven collapsed. “Brother.” He gasped.
Dravik turned in time to see his brother’s scorched fingers curl into his palms. “I’m here, Draven. Come on. Get up. Dying on our feet will have to suffice.”
“No... no... no,” the priest stuttered. “You must flee.”
“Never,” Dravik growled.
“The Lost, brother. Find them. The Black one is on his way back.”
“Impossible.”
“Izotan told me.” Draven persisted. “He comes from across the Kasym. Set him on the path, and then, find our ancestors. They have to help.”
“I cannot leave you. It is against all we stand for. Never abandon a brother in battle. The Host live and die as one.”
“I know, brother,” Draven said, sighing. “Forgive me when you next see me—to the stone we come, and to the stone we rise. From the power of the one god, rise to defend our leader and to save our people.”
The priest chanted, and Dravik whirled as he recognized the prayer, but he was too late. The stone golem burst from the ancient Dwarven wall and wrapped its arms around him. It turned and carried him through the hole, running across the flats behind the old Dwarven fortress. It ran until Dal Dagore was a smoking pile of rubble miles behind them while Dravik struggled against its grip.
“Damn you.” Dravik cursed. The golem released him and stood guard as he stared back toward the home he had protected for over ten thousand years. “May Izotan take you to Paradise with his own hands, brother.”
Chapter Fourteen
“For centuries my Sisters and I have trained, planned, and prepared for the re-emergence of a matured DeathWizard. Master Kael's return to Talohna was an event in our history that should have been celebrated as my fellow Dead Sisters, and he began our campaign to conquer Talohna. It wasn't to be. For some unknown reason, the corruption of morality and conscience had eaten into Kael's very soul. My Sisters tried valiantly to purge Kael of this filth that held his true soul captive, even giving their lives in the attempt, but to no avail. Kael died with the stench of t
his rot embedded in his soul. I hope all the demons of Hell tear him to pieces for every second of his miserable eternity.
But all is not lost. several children were born during the Black Sun two months ago. The Dead Sister's sole purpose for existing has been renewed, but we were betrayed by one of our own, and the only child whose location was known to us was stolen before we could retrieve it. I now hunt the thief and our child. I will not rest until the betrayer vomits her own insides from her mouth and our young messiah is brought home where she belongs.”
Journal entry of Voranna Talavyr,
Dead Sister’s Cardessa.
Found on a body in a side alley of
Soena's slum district. 5026 PC
SOENA, SOUTHERN CETHOS
PRESENT DAY
The young woman sat in the mud with her hand out, begging for the smallest amount of coin the poor of Soena's slums could offer. A filthy black shawl covered her head and a tattered blanket so dirty its colour was unknown wrapped around her body. As a passerby dropped a single copper coin into her open hand, she looked up. Her swollen gray eyes offering her thanks even though they held the agony of those completely lost. The generous soul disappeared into the crowd of people long before her thanks could be given.
Glancing down the way, the beggar quickly ducked her head and pulled her shawl further over her face as a group of three men approached, all stumbling drunk. Though she wanted to curl up and hide, the woman knew drunks were often loose with their coin, and the single copper would not go far enough to soothe the savage ache of hunger eating at her insides. Keeping her head down, she slowly raised her hand. The three men stopped, but no coin was offered.
“Filthy beggar,” Kanin snapped, bending over to inspect the woman. “You a man, woman, or beast under there, ugly?” He lifted her shawl from her face. “Ah, my mistake, pretty little young thing.”
“Pretty, you say?” the second man asked, almost tripping over his own feet.
Kanin smiled. “Very pretty, Jake. What say you, pretty? Care to earn more than a few coppers. My boys and I'll show you a right time. Give you a silver and warm you up, too?” The young beggar shook her head as she lowered it and moved the shawl back over her face.
“Don't think she likes you, Kanin,” the third man said, laughing. “Think maybe she just wants me and Jake.”
Again, the woman shook her head. “Please, leave me be. I am not a whore,” she whispered.
“Hear that, boys?” Kanin laughed. “She's not a whore. Guess that means it's free!” he said. Grabbing a handful of her hair, he dragged her further into the alley. The young woman screamed. Her blanket fell away, revealing a baby in her lap. Exposed to the cold air, the child wailed miserably.
“What the fuck?” Jake yelled. The young beggar grabbed her baby, holding her close as she did her best to make sure the little one was not harmed.
“No, please! Don't hurt my baby—” The back of Kanin's hand slammed into her jaw, dazing her. Tearing the two-month-old baby from her arms, he handed it off to the third man.
“What the hell, Kanin?” he demand.
“Crush its head in, Shaig. Toss it in the mud.” Kanin pulled the dazed woman to her feet and bent her over a stack of boxes as she mumbled incoherently, trying to reach for her child.
“Fine, if only for the sake of my ears,” Shaig hissed as he laid the baby on top of one of the other crates. “But I get her first for killing this ugly thing.”
“Fair enough.” Kanin grinned as he pinned the struggling mother down. Glancing down the alley, he saw a tall woman walking toward them. Unlike the young beggar, she was dressed in an expensive robe of black velvet. The wide hood, lined with fur, surrounded her head even though it rested on the woman's shoulders. “Look boys, Miss Rich and Tasty has come to join us for some fun.”
“I assure you, young man, I am here for no such reason,” she said, disgust laced every word. “Release the child and the woman. Now.”
Jake stepped across the alley, stopping in front of the well-dressed woman as he pulled a dagger from his waist.
“That is not going to happen, Miss Rich-Bitch,” he said, sneering.
“Oh, Miss Rich-Bitch.” She mocked him. “How original. You will let them go,” she whispered. Leaning forward, the woman stroked the thug's cheek. Lost in his own heightened desire, the thug never saw the danger in front of him until the woman poked him between the eyes with her fingernail. A dark green and black corruption immediately spread out under his skin. “Just die. You are not worth the effort of the Ichor’s dreams.” The woman took a step back, and Jake’s body shook with tremors. White foam traced with strings of red blood frothed from his mouth, and he died before he hit the ground. Shaig left the crying child lying on the crates and pulled his sword from its sheath. He attacked, but a putrid green energy tore through his abdomen and opened him wide before he could take two steps in the woman's direction.
Kanin shoved the beggar to the mud and took off up the alley. Sticky black webbing wrapped around his knees as the witch cast more magic. A second black web hex smacked his face as he looked back over his shoulders in panic. The corrosive webs ate into his flesh as he crumpled in the alley. The young beggar crawled to her child and picked the baby up off the crates. She cradled the wailing baby while she slid down the wall of the building behind them.
The witch approached and knelt close by her side, slowly caressing the beggar’s cheek. “Kyah, my dear. So good to see you, again,” Voranna Talavyr said. “We have missed you. All the Dead Sisters have. You shouldn't have stolen our child like that.”
“My child,” Kyah whispered. “She's my child.”
Voranna snorted and shook her head. “You truly are delusional. The child of a DeathWizard belongs to the Dead Sisters. Now, say goodbye, Kyah, and I will send you to Hell to join your lover. The two of you can suffer forever in the Halls of Perdition.”
Kyah pushed herself further away from the Dead Sister's most powerful witch, but the building pushed at her back like a living entity. “I won't let you take my baby, Voranna. She’s all I have left.”
Voranna smiled, her eyes heavy with mock pity. “You know you can't stop me, my dear. The child took your magic from you the moment you decided to steal it and spend every waking moment with it. You did well tracking down the woman who would give birth to this child. I arrived at the small farmhouse only three days after you left with the baby. You really didn’t have to massacre the whole family like that.”
“I didn’t harm them, Voranna. If they are dead, then you did it.”
“If you say so, my dear, but the Cethosian Wizard’s Council is now hunting you. They don’t take kindly to murder, especially when that murder takes place, so a young woman can steal a newly born DeathWizard. You are lucky the ArchWizard is still missing, or he would have already found you.”
“I will stay ahead of that fool if it means keeping my baby.”
“How?” Voranna scoffed. “Look at you. You barely have the energy left to stand. How long has it been since you've eaten? Sooner or later, you will not be able to find or buy milk for it, and the child will suffer as you do. Both of you will die. Is that what you want?” Voranna reached out and gently caressed her cheek, a smile of tenderness and love curling her pursed lips.
Kyah frowned at the cruel expression of false empathy. She wormed away from the deadly poisoned nail growing on Voranna's corrupt fingers. She had heard that the demon queen, Reetha, had awarded the new Cardessa well.
“No,” Kyah whispered.
“Let me end the torment, love, and you can see him again—even if it is in the eternal suffering in Reetha’s hell.” The smile of pity vanished. “Or you can suffer now, for hours, or maybe days, while the child listens to your cries of agony until your heart finally gives out under the torrential stress of my magic. You've lost everything, Kyah. Your magic, your place with us, and even the man you so deeply loved. Once you are rotting in the ground, this child will become the most powerful DeathWiz
ard ever to walk Talohna under our tutelage. You have no magic and nothing left to fight with Kyah, just give u—”
Voranna stopped short as she stared wide-eyed at Kyah. A puzzled expression crawled over her face. She gasped twice, but no words followed.
“I don't need magic,” Kyah spat, twisting the blade in her hand as the hilt thudded against Voranna's chest and the blade slid into her heart. “Kael taught me that a steel blade kills a Dead Sister better than magic ever did.” Kyah twisted the dagger back and forth, pushing the blade harder even though it had nowhere to go. “The DragonKin Queen gave me this blade. It will mark your soul and send it straight to Kael. He will absorb it as raw power, and you will cease to exist. It will help him escape from your queen and any others who try to use him in the afterlife. You are not the first he has received and I will make sure you are not the last.”
Voranna slowly collapsed backward as the blade slid from her heart and blood trailed down the front of her robe. Kyah crawled forward and quickly searched through Voranna's belongings. She ached to take the fancy warm robe, but Dead Sisters worked in groups of three meaning Voranna's ternion wouldn't be far away. Taking the robe would make her a glowing beacon to the other Sisters.
Instead, she grasped the necklace and ruby charm from the dead woman's throat. Kyah pulled, snapping the leather choker. Tying it around her neck, she knew the obscurity charm would keep unfortunate incidents from happening if she kept her head down. Every Dead Sister wore one to keep prying eyes from looking their way when they could not use cover provided by the vested robes of the goddess Mylla. A small pouch of coins on Voranna’s hip jingled, and Kyah quickly snatched it for herself. The prospect of eating real food nearly overwhelmed her. Struggling to stand, she held the baby close and checked to make sure she was all right.