by J D Franx
King Bale struggled to breathe as Kael gently lay his right hand on the man’s chest. “I can help you see clearer,” he offered. “But the blade’s toxin might feed on it and speed your passing.”
“No, Father,” Corleya moaned.
The King took her hand and nodded up at Kael. He trickled the smallest bit of his magic directly into the King’s wound and his voice grew in strength. It was a false strength, though, as Kael merely increased the King’s heart rate and enhanced the effects of the adrenaline and endorphins already working overtime.
“My time is up... Queen Corleya Bale.” King Bale’s smile held a joy and sense of pride. “You have to take back our throne...”
“I will, Father. I will.”
“Listen child,” King Bale said softly. “A monarch listens as much, if not more, than they give orders. It is where I went wrong and why this has happened. I should have listened to Giddeon more,” he said.
“You can’t begin to comprehend why this happened,” Kael quipped. “And listening to that fool wouldn’t have helped you at all.”
“You would be surprised, young man,” the King said. “I am well aware that the Ancients have returned.”
Kael scoffed as he spoke over him. “They have, and I highly doubt they’d want a Bale on the Cethosian throne. That is why this happened.”
“Perhaps,” King Bale agreed as he frowned. “It matters not. The Ancients cannot know about the Citadel’s secrets. They were added long after they were gone.”
Kael laughed, but kept the magic flowing into the King as he bent closer. “When you assume to know what the Ancients know or how they think, then you have already lost,” he hissed.
King Bale held up his arms and motioned to himself. “Perhaps you are right. Again, it matters not.” He looked to Corleya. “This castle may have been built by the Ancients, Corleya, but they were gone thousands of years before the gods granted our family this throne and the Pillars of Rule to protect it. The Pillars will lose their magic the moment I die, and you will have to choose your own.” He grabbed the Spy’s arm. “Get my wife out of here safely. It will be my last demand of you,” he said earning a nod from the fourth Pillar. “You, my dear child. You will have to make this castle accept you as its master. Once you do it will come to your aid in dealing with the traitors above us.”
“How, Father?” she asked. “We don’t have magic.”
“No,” King Bale agreed. “But the castle does. The gods made it, so the rightful ruler can bring it to life. The castle will serve your will, daughter. I made them stir once...” His voice trailed off with delirium. The King wheezed, and a rack of coughs rolled through his chest. “Go,” he added. “Take back what belongs to our family... Go, please, Corleya.”
The Princess stood as the Queen slipped out from under the King and Kael eased the man back on a filthy pile of straw.
Corleya knelt quickly and kissed her father’s forehead. “I love you,” she whispered. “I am so sorry...”
“I will always love you, child. Never forget that... I am the only... I am... the one who should be sorry.” Corleya hugged her father while Kael struggled to keep the man coherent. Alia helped the Princess from the cell, and the Spy left with the Queen, leaving Kael alone with King Bale.
“You are Giddeon’s son,” he said. “You are not what I expected. They said you were dead. Another thing I am sorry for. Forgive me for what I put you through.”
“No,” he said. “You drove me into the hands of hell.”
The King nodded. “I understand.”
“No, you don’t, but you will when you get there.”
Again, the King nodded. “If you can put her on the throne,” he said, his voice failing. “I... I would ask a favor, deserving or not.”
“What?”
“Free Giddeon. My daughter will need him.”
“Where is he?”
“The DragonKin have him, Saleece, and Kasik imprisoned on the Isle of Ver Karmot... have for over a year now. Free them so they can help her. Please.”
“I will do what I can,” Kael replied.
“That will have to do. Now, go, so Mistress Spy can get my wife out of here before she loses her Pillar-bond.”
Kael nodded and left the cell. Even though the lock bars were cut and it would never pass close scrutiny, he still closed the door behind him so no one would spot the open cell and discover their escape.
“Is he gone?” Corleya asked.
“Not yet,” the Spy answered. “But it won’t be long.”
“We can’t leave him, Kael,” Corleya said, a she struggled not to cry.
“We’ll come back for him,” he told her. “I promise. For now, we have to go. The Spy needs what time your father has left to get your mom out of here. You and Alia need to take us to a place where we can see where the new ruler will be holding court.” She nodded and turned right, leading the way to the stairs with Alia at her side.
Kael took one last look over his shoulder and shook his head. If King Bale had his way, he would have been held in the very dungeon where the King was about to die alone. Kael sighed and followed the two young women into what he was sure would be another day of pure hell.
GUTTERTOWN
CORYNTH
For the third time in as many hours, Cameron woke to the nauseating rush caused by magic caressing his consciousness awake. After the homeless man everyone believed to be the Ghul had left him alone with the real Ghul, things rapidly became worse. Memories of the black talon digging in deeper flashed in his mind as the pain renewed. Cameron screamed as his skin parted, just deep enough to draw blood.
"P... pl... please stop. S... stop…" he babbled, between screams. For three hours, Ghul had cut into him with his sharp talon. As Cameron glanced down at his sore, naked body. The raised welts all wept a yellow plasma, his body trying its best to scab the wounds to begin healing. However, for some reason it would not dry, it would not scab, and the wounds would not heal.
Not a single word had been uttered from his tormentor.
The Ghul continued peeling Cameron's flesh, tracing lines on his body only the Ghul could see. As the hours passed, Cameron's screams were reduced to an exhausted whimper. The Ghul's black talon cut through the flesh of Cameron's forehead and down to the tip of his nose. With a simple flick, the talon parted from his flesh, taking the last strip of skin with it. A shadow emerged from the darkness and strode to his side.
"Is he ready?" a female voice asked. Cameron struggled against the pain, listening as best he could. The Ghul nodded, and Cameron saw the woman step into view. She was pretty and older, but her bright blue eyes carried the cold horror of no emotion. She was obviously Elvehn.
"Journeyman Wizard Cameron Wik?" she started. It sent a shiver down his spine. The sensation was worse than when he had seen the Ghul for the first time.
"Y... yes, that's me… I—"
"Shhh." The woman touched his lips with her finger so gently he barely felt her. Though it seemed impossible, the fear flooding his veins heightened as if injected into him by her touch. Trembling, he tried to nod, but shook so violently he could not tell if he succeeded.
Without removing her finger, the Elvehn woman began, again. "Let's try this once more, wizard. My name is Merethyl Bellas, and I want the simplest answer to my questions. Clear?" Her finger slipped from his lips.
"Y... yes."
"Much better. Now, pay attention. When you stole that Dwarven charm from the vault below the Eye, you also took a small vile. I need to know if you swallowed it or if you hid it. Which is it?"
"I nev—"
"Stop! I'm going to clarify something for you, wizard. When I said I want the simplest answer from you, a truthful answer should be understood. Do you understand, now?" Too terrified to trust his voice, Cameron nodded—or he hoped he did. He was quaking so hard he had no idea what his body was doing.
"Good. Do I need to ask the question, again?"
Cameron shook his head and took a deep
breath. "I didn't take a vial, I swear, just the char—"
The woman placed her finger on his lips, again, harder this time. "Tsk, tsk. I thought you understood." The woman turned to the Ghul and bowed. "He is lying."
The Ghul gave her a crooked nod and turned to Cameron. Before he saw the Ghul move, the creature struck. Cameron closed his eyes, waiting for death, but it never arrived. The table he was strapped to popped, and with a dizzying lurch, swung upward to a standing position. For the first time, he got a good look at his captors. It did not help calm his rampaging fear.
The Ghul took a step forward, and Cameron flinched as the creature raised his right hand, palm out, and gently placed it over his pounding heart. The contact added to the burn of dozens of cuts.
"I warned you wizard. No lies," the woman said and turned her back, but not before he caught her grimace of pity.
Cameron locked eyes with the Ghul and braced himself for whatever was coming. He was determined to die with some shred of dignity. The Ghul's mask tugged to the sides as if following a crooked smile. It spoke.
"Foolish boy." The voice washed over Cameron in a mixture of waves of whispers and hisses. The voice seemed to reverberate between reality and the inside of his own mind. It was impossible to tell and it made him nauseous as well as disoriented. "You suffer. Not die." The words crashed into Cameron with enough force to make his head spin. His stomach turned and tossed nothing but bile. Unable to do much else, he groaned. Laughter rolled around inside his head, and for some reason, it helped balance him enough to open his eyes.
"Please," Cameron begged.
But the Ghul shook his head and spoke again. "Truth. Tornis vagatic.” Cameron's eyes snapped open, and his breath snagged in his throat as pain overwhelmed his entire being. The Ghul’s talons slid into Cameron's flesh, deeper than the previous cuts. This time an ancient magic flooded in with them.
“Truth,” the Ghul repeated as the magic drove straight into the Journeyman Wizard like a living entity. The pain doubled. Then, it tripled. With the tiny shred of awareness he held onto, Cameron prayed to the Goddess of Magic with hopes of dying or passing out. His prayers and cries went unanswered. The Lady Inara had long since stopped caring.
Minutes passed, and Cameron lost all control of his body and its functions. Pain ruled his entire being. With no other option, he broke and gave in.
"Stop!" He screamed at the top his lungs, his voice riddled with torment. "P... please, s... stop. Please. I took it. I took it… please, please, just stop," he cried. The Ghul's hand lifted from his chest and the pain vanished. Gone just as fast as it started. The Elvehn woman appeared in front of him.
He panted, shivering from the assault on his body. He was too drained to be embarrassed at the mess dripping down between his legs.
"I warned you, wizard,” the woman said, stepping forward, again. “The truth. Or next time it won't stop. Ever. The vial. Where is it?"
Lifting his head and doing his best to keep it from bobbing like an apple in a bucket, he sobbed. "M… my dorm… r… room. At the... Eye. It... it's taped to the inside of the bed frame."
Tilting her head, the woman frowned. "Why not at your home in TinkerTown? Do you need a reminder about telling the truth?" Though futile, Cameron tried to grasp the woman, but his bindings held firm.
"No, please! It's the truth! If my home was searched, it'd be found. The Eye is full of magic! The vial is masked while there. Please…" He cried, sobbing. "It's there, I swear, please. Let me go. You can have it. Please, just let me go. I won't tell anyone. I promise..."
The woman's finger returned to his lips, silencing his weeping and begging. "I can't let you go, wizard. Your deal was with the Ghul. You must settle your end of the bargain."
"Please, I didn't know..."
"If you don't have the gold given to you to clear your debt, wizard, then your agreement states the Ghul gets the use of your magic for one day. Do you have the gold?"
"No, but please..." Having heard enough, the woman grabbed the metal collar around Cameron's neck and pulled. As sparks of deep nerve pain lit up inside his body, he realized the collar was not just for magic silencing. It was for something entirely different. Seconds passed before the fiery electrical signals subsided. He opened his eyes to find the woman nose-to-nose with him.
"Your deal is one day. Should you survive the one day, you will walk from here as if nothing ever happened. Suck it up, and act like a fucking wizard. You spoiled, university-trained brats give all real wizards a bad name." Taking a deep breath, Cameron steeled himself and nodded. Gathering the last of his nerve and what little bravery he had, he turned to the Ghul.
"Do what you're going to do," Cameron said, his voice wavering. Tears ran down both cheeks, but he managed to keep the whimpers suppressed.
The woman gave him a crooked sneer and turned away. "He's all yours.” She turned to walk away but stopped as she reached the Ghul. “What you have been looking for is in the city somewhere,” she whispered, but the words still reached Cameron’s ears.
“You sure?” Ghul asked.
“No. His magic is cloaked, but I know of no other wizard who can do that.”
The Ghul scoffed. “You know too little. Find out,” he ordered. “And if so bring it to me.”
“I thought you wanted me to stay," she replied. The Ghul frowned and grabbed the handle on the table's frame, puling. With a familiar, sickening lurch, Cameron was flat on his back and staring into the ceiling rafters, again.
“Find it,” the Ghul repeated.
The woman stepped back, and the Ghul approached Cameron's other side. Lifting a vial from inside his pocket, the Ghul pulled the stopper and poured the contents into the wound on his big toe. Time passed in a painstakingly slow way as the Ghul poured a fine line of purple liquid into every intricate design cut into Cameron's flesh over. Once complete, the Ghul placed a clear blue crystal on Cameron's chest and began to chant.
Agony ripped through his body as tentacles grew from the crystal and grabbed onto his skin before dragging the crystal into his chest. Cameron screamed while the Ghul stood over him and stared. The pain built to its peak, and he held on for as long as he could before finally losing his grasp on reality.
The Ghul reached across and pressed two fingers to Cameron’s throat.
“A survivor,” he muttered. Turning to Merethyl, he nodded. “This wizard has passed the first stage. You may begin your search for this possible DeathWizard, as you call him. I need his magic if we hope to create the next line of Vascuul. Find it quickly or else bring me another full binding stone for this fool’s second stage.”
Merethyl nodded and turned to leave. A young boy stood by the door with the old man who pretended to be the Ghul on the streets. She turned her nose in disgust at the old man. The old man was the true parasite in GutterTown. His reputation as the person who could help anyone preceded him. Unfortunately, as the young boy was about to find out, the price for such a service was immense.
She shrugged and passed by the boy and old man.
The Broken Blades were on the hunt, again, and nothing else mattered to the Queen of Assassins.
Chapter Twenty
“Very few things in life will forge the bond of friendship faster than the rush and heat of battle. When a warrior has bled at your side and witnessed the closeness of death, it creates an unbreakable trust. When we call a ‘brother’ or ‘sister’ to battle, this trust is what we call upon. I call you now brothers and sisters. I call you all.”
Excerpt from Jarl Drenger Jafnkollr’s farewell speech,
Bloodbourne Ceremony. 5015 PC
SECOND FLOOR INTERIOR TERRACE
CASCADE CITADEL
Kael knelt behind the railing and gently put his hand on the shoulder of a gargoyle statue. He slowly peeked over the edge and looked down on the meeting hall used by the nobility. Alia crouched on the opposite side of his statue while Corleya sat on her knees by his side. One glance was all it took to clear up what was going
on.
“That’s Duke Sheering on the throne,” Corleya whispered.
“He has been busy,” Alia stated. “Two Pillars already.”
“Does that mean the Citadel has accepted him?” Corleya asked.
Alia shrugged as she peered around the gargoyle.
Kael nodded absent-mindedly as he focused on the woman tied and bound before the throne.
“Tania Vakaran,” the Duke barked. “Swear fealty or die. I will waste no more time with you. A dozen nobles have held out because of you. King Bale is nearly dead, and his daughter has been for months.”
“Fool,” Corleya muttered.
“There is nothing left to fight for.”
“You gods-cursed cowardly grand duke of a shit,” the Duchess hissed.
A knight dressed in heavy plated armor stepped forward and lashed out, smacking the duchess. The sheer force drove her to the floor. Blood dripped from her mouth.
“A tyrant from day one,” the Duchess said through a mouthful of bloody saliva.
The Duke laughed. “That is no way to speak to your new king. That determination will be needed in the coming months. Talohna is about to change drastically. I could use a strong woman at my side... one who knows her place among Ancient gods.”
The Duchess struggled to sit. “You are as stupid as you are fat, Sheering. You think the Ancients will be the godly saviors everyone wishes?”
“Of course, they will be,” he answered. He opened his arms wide. “They built all of this—Corynth, Avalera City, Dra’Kahn, Soena, Sao Vatos. The biggest and most wondrous cities in all of Talohna.”
“Fool!” Duchess Vakaran shrieked over him. “A race only builds when they are done conquering. The Ancients have no power in Talohna, which means they will conquer it before they bring peace and prosperity back—if those myths are even true. You have done nothing but doom Cethos into slavery.”
“We should bow to our superiors, foolish child, like the lesser citizens bow to us nobles when we pass them in the streets. They are the Ancients,” he said as his own voice climbed higher. “We bow if they so ask or we will be smitten by their godly hands.”