There’s Often a Dead Body at The End
A World of Tialma Adventure
by
Jeff Draper
When the Wildguards want something done, they are pretty damn efficient at it. But when they want something done, attribution is a tricky political challenge, and it’s shockingly dangerous, they call on me. They don’t ask me how I do it. I don’t tell them.
But there’s often a dead body at the end.
This mission came with the usual message drop that was kicked off by an inconspicuous green ribbon on the fence outside the Warden’s Outpost east of Skalhyn. Vi’Captain Montri thought he was a great secret operator and I didn’t tell him otherwise. I mean, he was pretty good, but greatness still eluded him like a mouse eluded a drunk cat.
The package I’d recovered from the drop had everything I needed. In that, Montri excelled. Some silver coins for spending money, two gold trade bars for my fee, a purple Aether crystal about the size of a pea, a circular symbol inked into a sturdy cloth that was sure to become Very Important at some yet to be foreshadowed time, and a thin sheet of rice paper with lightly drawn instructions that would fade in the sunlight just before the paper dissolved. Everything so far had been very deniable. See, I said he was pretty good.
Mining operation north of the Riddenspike. Burn it all on day three. Bring the circle to the ruined hill fort at Wessen’s Bell.
I’d read the note a few times, filling in the details that came with years of associating with Montri. I couldn’t say he was my favorite client but that was only because I never said things like that even though he was. The Riddenspike was inside the Wildlands and that presented its own problems, but I had a lot of experience in that regard.
Because they were asking me to do it, it was probably run by one of the Untouchables. House politics within the Vinian Crown was something I followed only as much as it shifted my client list. Everything else they did was a pile of rut slime on a dinner plate; served up nicely but still just shit.
The three day time limit was a little annoying. It was going to take me two days just to get there and then only by moving with a purpose. Luckily, I could take the Starling Road most of the way this time of year. Montri’s specificity meant that there was some other event that needed to match the timing; either before, during, or after. Not my concern.
Wessen’s Bell was the most interesting part. That was another day deeper into the Wildlands and Montri knew that. I’d been there before and knew a shortcut, but Montri didn’t know that. The circle symbol would match up to something I was supposed to grab and take to the Bell.
An hour later, with the trade bars hidden where I always hid my fees, the note dissolved, and me sitting an old horse and provisions that hadn’t used up all my silver, I was passing the Gremlin Gates at a brisk trot with the Wildlands right in front of me.
This is a simple mission, I thought.
***
This is a fucked mission, I thought.
I would have yelled that at the horse but the old guy died about a mile off the Road when a grimbadger attacked. Horses never worked out for me. That’s why I always bought the oldest one I could find. I tell myself that they’d had a good life.
Grimbadgers were big and ferocious but pretty dumb. They tended to run straight onto your sword. The problem was that they didn’t always think to die before they disemboweled you. I had three bleeding claw marks on my side to testify to that.
Morning was on my right and the Riddenspike was at my back. A small hillock was under my feet and a big steaming pile of This-Should-Have-Been-Part-of-the-Briefing was to the front.
The mine was a Volkir military operation.
I’d been running through my options for the last quarter hour. Returning to the Outpost and giving Vi’Captain Montri his purple crystal back as an Aetherbound suppository was not last on the list.
My problem was threefold. First, there’s at least twenty Volkir soldiers that I can see. They probably have very specific orders about letting someone burn up their mine. Second, the mine is a little more spread out than I’d like. The one purple crystal Montri gave me would be stretched thin and I really hated doing that. Third, there were about a hundred or so civilians that looked like forced labor of some kind. Now, Volkir didn’t allow slavery inside their borders but… we were conveniently not inside their borders right now. Sure, they could be criminals sentenced to hard labor but Volkir didn’t have a great track record differentiating ‘criminals’ from ‘ordinary subjects who are tired of their abusive King’.
I sighed. Having nothing available but bad choices usually led to more bad choices. But, I had made a lot of bad choices in my life so one more probably wouldn’t kill me. I started running down through the brush when it looked like my path was clearest.
I broke out into the open. Several guards saw me and drew swords or picked up crossbows. Several of the workers stopped and watched the show.
And a show is what they got.
Aether crystals are the bane and boon of the entire continent of Afiris. Their concentrated magic has been destroying and creating and destroying and creating for over a hundred years. Some people use them to build up; some people use them to tear down. I’m one of the lucky few that can use them both ways at the same time. It makes me a great special operator. It also kills me a little bit each time. More on that later.
I threw the purple crystal in my mouth and swallowed. The magic started to unspool in me immediately. The power surged through my breath and my veins. It gathered at my fingertips, begging to be released. When I released it, the show began.
A semicircle of glowing purple magic formed around me. The ground I ran over smoked in my passing. Crossbow bolts burst into flame and ash as they came at me.
I started launching small lines of fire at the nearest guards, drilling through them with concentrated heat. People’s bodies didn’t react well to this. The heat both burned through their skin and flash boiled their blood. The resultant burst of red steam and unearthly scream that cut off in their throat completed the action. They were dead before they hit the ground.
I’d crossed the open space quickly, trailing a burnt scar in the earth with smoking dirt, flaming grass, and the body of a motivated guard who ran at me with a spear before finding out what a bad idea that was. The crackle of fire and heat all around me muted the screams of the dying but I’d heard them before and was pretty sure I’d hear them again so I didn’t miss it.
Ahead of me was the first building, a simple shed probably used for tool storage. A wash of flame cascaded out and turned it into a heap of burning wood and metal. As I ran past, I thought there might be an innocent worker in that building but hoped there wasn’t. I cared about killing the right people but I rarely lost sleep over killing the wrong. It’s a brutal world out there and death happens. A lot.
Three more guards appeared and three more fire bolts took them out. My count was reaching ten now, and quicker than I thought. Not very well trained at fighting Aetherbound foes, these guys.
A string of rapidly launched fire bolts shot into the main building. There would probably be the most soldiers there. Flames erupted everywhere along the face of the building and several guards ran out, burning.
As the flames and the smoke and the death happened all around me, I started to scream. I wish I could say that it was a bellowing scream of defiance and power but no such luck for me. I screamed the high pitched whine of a ten summers girl. I suppose now would be a good time to mention how much this fucking hurts. What makes it worse is that I figured I was going to need another crystal to finish the job. Oh, trust me, I was going to rip another trade bar out of Montri’s ass for this.
The pain always starts at the extremities. Fingers burning, even when I’m flinging ice or poison around. Toes and feet feeling like a needle puncturist who uses crucifixion spikes. It’s bad.
But then my insides start to rip. It’s like molten spears jabbing me deeper and deeper. When one drives into my brain, show’s over.
I could feel that blade clawing up my spine and knew that this crystal was just about to run out. I wasn’t done with all the buildings yet, there were a few up the hill that I couldn’t reach. I ran at the mine entrance, thinking I could get there before collapsing into a wretched heap of uselessness.
That’s when I noticed that I hadn’t kept track of where the laborers had gone. I also noticed that the biggest man I’d ever seen was stomping out of the cavern wearing the biggest plate mail I’d ever seen. He was rippling with red energy; pouring from every seam in his armor, beaming out of his eye slits. He’d just popped a red crystal down his gullet and was feeling pretty sure of himself.
I would say that these guys I kept fighting learned that they couldn’t match me with an Aether crystal but that would suggest that any of them survived. I kept running forward about to teach him his lesson.
He punched his knuckles together. It might scare others but I’d done this kind of thing before. With a grunt and a renewed scream, I sent out a drill of spinning fire right at him.
It staggered him back and ripped away at some of the power he’d been building around himself. But now he knew he had a fight on his hands and I was about to unleash again. He set his feet and raised his gauntlets in a brawler’s stance as I came in close.
That, unfortunately, was when I felt a volcano erupting inside my head and the Aether betrayed me, like it always did. I lurched to a breathless stop right in front of him as all the triumph and majesty of my power evaporated like a cloud on a summer evening. I had just one more thing I could do.
I vomited on his fine metal boots.
I would have hit the ground in a spasm of pain and bewilderment but he kindly stopped that by swinging a backhand and knocking me aside like a worthless slave laborer. I could tell he had experience with that.
I flew to one side and tumbled over a work bench, flopping around like my bones had turned to jelly. One day, they just might.
He was moving faster than I hoped, stomping right over to the bench and flipping it out of the way. I needed time that I wasn’t going to get. I also think my arm was broken.
Some people can combine Aether crystals into all sorts of creative magical spells. Some people spend months of careful research and end up with permanent powers and abilities that allow them to make a living being just a little bit better than everyone else.
I’m not those people. Brute force. That’s what I do. Lots and lots of it. No one I’ve come up against can get what I get out of the Aether. My problem is that it’s never permanent. I have to go through the whole fucking process every time. Yes, it’s getting old.
I watched the table fly up away from me. My fingers slipped into the tiny pocket of Aether crystals I always carried. The big armored red powered guy stepped closer and reached down for me. I drew out a crystal at random and threw it in my mouth. The big armored red powered guy picked me up by my broken arm and drew back to punch my face through the back of my head. That’s when we both found out I had swallowed a green crystal.
Green Aether crystals, in addition to tasting way better, are best for changing the world as it exists around you. Common applications were healing or cursing, among others. This was good because his fist came down and did a pretty good job of punching my face through the back of my head.
There was a flash of green energy, like spikes shooting out all around us. My face and head instantly healed themselves. I must have looked like one of those weighted child’s toys that wobble but won't fall down. My head snapped back into place, the cycle of pain started over again, and I grabbed the metal arm that was holding me up.
I said before that I can create and destroy at the same time with Aether. This is what I did now. The armor corroded away like spunsugar candy in a waterfall. It peeled off and dropped in dissolving pieces all around us. Then the rest of his body followed suit. Since I didn’t want to stand in a pile of smouldering guts and bones I kept the effect going and dissolved all of him into a gentle cloud of powder, like flour in the air of a bakery.
The healing surged through me, thanks to the life force I’d just consumed as part of the deal. My face and head went back into place, my arm healed, the grimbadger claw marks vanished, and I felt renewal and invigoration all over. No, this doesn’t stop the Aether crystals from killing me slowly, it actually paradoxically speeds it up. It all has to do with borrowed time, or so the heraldric demon devil said. Neither of us were clear on the details of that encounter. More on that later.
What the healing didn’t stop was the pain. That was a kick in the crotch that no amount of healing had ever fixed. I staggered to the side, hand out and feeling for anything to lean against. I missed the wall but luckily there was plenty of rocky floor to hit.
At this point, most people would question why they do this kind of thing. Why the pain and the danger and the likely chance of death? They would have a deep, introspective conversation with themselves and try to locate their inner motivations or some stupid shit like that. I’d done all that already so there was never any point to doing it again. The clocktower is clocking and apparently no amount of blood will gum up the gears. When it’s over, it’s over. An account will be settled and a new one will be opened. The future is written.
None of that was helpful now, though. I stopped the healing and dispersed the remaining Aether power before it knocked me out. Couldn’t be sure if all the Volkir soldiers were dead. And yes, I’m sure some of them had families and gave their alms every Fiveday but that wasn’t my problem. Remember the part about not asking how I did this?
I rolled over on some rocks and squirmed myself to sitting. I was in the entrance to the mine with smoke and ash blowing around outside and some mining equipment laying on tables around me. Picks, shovels, lanterns; all the things one would expect. There were two tunnels leading into the hillside from here. I didn’t care about either of them.
I stood, finding that wall I’d needed. The air was dusty but clear enough to breathe deeply. The memory of the pain was receding into all the other memories of pain and my fingers had stopped twitching. This was the best part about the Aether crystal power. The end.
Later would come the dread of knowing that I’d have to do it again some time.
The first laborer appeared from behind a cart. Timid, unsure if death was near or nearer. Then others appeared. They were male and female, human, most with dark hair. If I had to guess, they were Garman refugees and were forced laborers, also given the title of ‘criminal’ because that made everything easier.
This is when the second part of my task here dawned on me. They were all wearing patches on their fronts and backs with different types of symbols. Shit.
I reached into a pocket and pulled out the cloth with the inked circle symbol. I didn’t have time for chit chat so I just held it up and started walking towards them. I didn’t speak Garman so it was time to play that fun child’s game of matching symbols to prove your intelligence.
They all shied away from me until they figured out what I was doing. Some started to point back down the passageway. Good. Let’s get this over with.
A woman came out of the dark. She wasn’t particularly outstanding in size or looks, rather plain probably, behind the dirt and grime and partial emaciation. She had on a threadbare shirt of homespun fabric, trousers tied up with a rope for a belt, and boots that seemed like Volkir military hand-me-downs.
Most of the other laborers were meek and avoiding eye contact. Not her. Despite the abused look, she stood tall and upright. Her eyes were clear and they took me in slowly. I’m used to judgement and dismissal but that usually came from ‘polite society’, not from a slave worker.
“Are they all dead?” she asked. There was a certainty to her, as if she was expecting something like this to happen.
“I think so,” was my reply. “But I lost count around ten and didn’t have a good starting number anyhow.” I looked back at the mine entrance. No one seemed to be charging in to reclaim their property.
When I turned back she was already moving past me. I followed and muttered ‘you’re welcome’ but she kept walking until she got to the opening. I came up behind her as she paused and started looking around. I could tell by her head movements that she was calmly surveying the damage.
She glanced up at me. “You did all this by yourself?”
I couldn’t tell from her expression whether she wanted a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’. There was something familiar about her but I couldn’t place it. I knew very few Garmans and I’d never been in that part of the world for any length of time. I just nodded and kept my commentary to myself.
I handed her the cloth with the marking on it. It matched the symbol on her front and back perfectly. She was the item I had to get to Wessen’s Bell. That was a slight twist that I hadn’t counted on.
She took it, looked at it for barely a second, and dropped it. “Fantastic.”
I didn’t usually expect rescued people to be so unenthusiastic but that barely registered with me because I’d heard that tone of voice and word used before in exactly the same way. “Wait,” I started.
She nodded. “Vice Captain Montri is my brother. Half brother really.” She had a Garman accent but spoke with the tone of someone used to being in control. She put on a smile and stepped clear so she could shake my hand. “Revel Montri. Pleased to meet you. You must be Khenton.”
There was no way to hide my surprise so I didn’t try. “Fire and fuck,” I muttered. I looked back at the other captives. They had stayed back out of earshot. Good. “He told you about me? Told you everything?”
She nodded. “Only the bad things, I’m sure.”
“That’s pretty much everything.” There was still no one out in the field in front of the mine. The buildings and bodies were still burning away and sending smoke into the air a couple hundred feet up. “Look, you’re now one of five people alive who knows my real name. I’d appreciate it if you kept it quiet.”
“Lips are sealed.” She pointed out to the blazing buildings. “If there are any patrols out, and there always are, they’ll see that soon and come back. We should go.”
I nodded. “Certainly. Did he tell you the next part as well?”
“He said you’d get me to Wessen’s Bell via a shortcut but we’d still have to move quickly to get there in time.”
How the fuck did Montri know about my shortcut to the Bell? I guess I have to take back my previous comment.
The son of a bitch was a great secret operator.
***
The run from the mining operation was quick and we were soon out of breath. We dodged a patrol but had to kill the scout. Well, I had to kill the scout. She was putting up a good front but I could tell the starvation diet had gotten to her. She didn’t talk much and she sat back quietly while I ambushed the scout and killed him the old fashioned way, a knife to the back.
The rest of the run through the woods was literally a run. We had to keep up the pace because the Wildlands are not called the Wildlands for no reason. We skirted around a slayspider’s web, dodged several thrashvines, and almost ran straight into the mouth of a thunder lizard but thankfully it was asleep.
She couldn’t keep up the pace and I knew it, but she was a trouper and didn’t complain. At least, didn’t complain until we got to the part of the shortcut that wasn’t short. It was a fifty foot climb up the side of a cliff.
She looked up as we slowed to a walk and it became obvious that I was about to say we were going to climb it.
“There’s no way I can climb that,” she said between rapid breaths.
I looked at her and watched as she bent over and put her hands on her knees. I hadn’t noticed but she’d lost a sleeve during the run. The muscles in her arms were wiry and strong but her skin was just yellowed enough to tell that she hadn’t had a good meal in a month at least. I had to agree with her. “You’re right.”
She glanced up at me with a half smile and nodded. “Any way around? Or was this the plan?”
“This was the plan.” I stepped away and found a thick vine that wrapped around a tree. My water flask was empty so I handed it to her and punctured the vine. She stepped up and started filling the flask.
Everything about her exuded confidence and competence. She hadn’t argued or complained once as we ran. And that was with me occasionally giving loud verbal instruction so that I could be clearly understood. There was an immediate trust she’d given me, knowing that I was in my element. Only very stupid or very smart people did that. She was obviously not stupid.
I left her to the vine and started looking up at the face of the cliff. She drank and refilled and drank again. I gave her her time and then asked, “So, Montri never mentioned he had family. Although to be honest, we never had a lot of deep conversations about that kind of thing. You have some of his same mannerisms but you weren’t raised in Kotengar. How’d you end up in Garm?”
“I’ll tell you when I know you better.” She followed me while I stepped along the face of the cliff, looking up and not at her. She kept sipping from the flask as she went.
“I think you already know me as much as I’d like. I’m just trying to catch up.”
She shrugged. “We’re both the children of a diplomat’s indiscretion. Grew up in two different worlds but saw each other often enough. It was odd. Like the two of us against everyone else or something. Not a lot of acceptance in proper society for either of us.”
“That’s something I know a little bit about.”
She looked around in the limited view of the sky like she was trying to find the sun. “I’m not sure what day it is but if you’re here it means we have to get to Wessen’s bell by nightfall. Are you looking for an easier path to climb?”
“Not exactly.” I kept looking up at the cliff and walking slowly. “What happens at the Bell tonight?”
“I thought you didn’t ask questions.” There was no malice in her voice, just an assured matter of fact tone plus a hint of you-don’t-want-to-know..
I smiled. “Not really a question, more of a tactical decision making process.”
“Well, when you get me to the Bell, your mission is over so there’s really not much of a tactical decision to make.”
“Just trying to figure out if I need to wear a jacket and sash, that’s all.” I thought I heard her laugh a little at that but just then I thought I saw what I needed. “This looks promising.” I picked up a rock and threw it up at a clump of vines that were lighter colored than the others. “Yeah, that will work nicely.”
“What will work nicely?”
I pointed. “Those vines are not vines, They’re tendrils for a skyla. Probably a big one. We climb up just a few feet or so and the vines will reach down and grab us. Then we let them pull us up to the top of the cliff where a giant mouth of teeth and tentacles is waiting for us. It’ll try to eat us. It’ll try pretty hard. But we avoid that. I don’t know, we jump over it or something while trying to get untangled from the vines. I’ve done it before. Just have to be careful not to pull away too soon or you fall back off the cliff. And you can’t be too late or you’ll come away missing an arm or a leg. And that’s about it. Ready?”
She didn’t hesitate. “Let’s go.”
***
Walking away from the skyla and its frustrated thrashing, I had to admit that I was impressed as fuck. The whole Montri family was rising in my esteem today. I especially liked the extra touch of her rolling over its back and then picking up a dead branch and clubbing it a couple times just for spite.
“That was invigorating,” she said, checking her arms for cuts and scrapes.
“If you liked that, you’re going to love the second part of the shortcut.”
“Can’t wait. Is it going to be as safe as the first part?”
“I thought you didn’t ask questions,” I said, and started picking up the pace.
That time I did hear her laugh.
***
We were both breathing hard, wiping water from our faces, and staggering up a river bank. The sun was lowering in the sky over the Wildlands and the shortcut had done its work. We were near the Bell with time to spare.
I looked down at her ass and slowly started to reach for it. She saw me out of the corner of her eye and simply raised an eyebrow. With a sharp tug that almost dropped her pants, I tore a razorfish off her.
“What the hell is that?” she asked, pulling at her waistline.
I held up the little guy; its mouth was working and its teeth were many. “This,” I said a little triumphantly. “Is why we have to get out of the river here.”
“Noted.” She re-knotted the rope belt and cinched it tight.
I walked past her and up to the tree line. “We’re not far from Wessen’s Bell. Normally you’d come at it from the other side of that lake up ahead but–”
“But we took a shortcut. I got it. I can make it from here.”
“My job’s not done yet. I need to get you to the Bell and that’s what I’m going to do.”
She shook her head. “I can almost see it from here. I can make it.”
Sometimes stubbornness can be frustrating. “Are you going to walk down that clear path right over there?”
Clearly irritated now. “I was planning on it, why?”
“Those flower pods will have mites all over them this time of year. Worm larvae that you can barely see. They’ll burrow into your heart and nest until winter. Then, when Crown’s Day comes around you’ll have a hard time holding your rum punch when they hatch and start feeding.”
She paused for a second before giving up and waving me forward. I didn’t feel the need to tell her that mites like that didn’t exist.
We skirted around some tree trunks and walked quickly through an open meadow. I was watching everywhere and I noticed that she was too. We went on like that for several minutes before the ground became rockier and the trees spread further out. We climbed upward towards a line of large boulders and then crawled up behind them.
Wessen’s Bell had nothing to do with a bell and I don’t think there was ever actually someone named Wessen. I think it’s a mispronunciation of an Old Vinian saint who was briefly worshiped out here before the Wildlands took over. It had something to do with the bell that tolled for his death. I don’t know, maybe I’ll remember to ask a librarian next time I’m researching Ancient Disasters That Have Fuck All To Do With Me.
The Bell was actually a huge swath of broken ground. Sinkholes, rocky crags, outcroppings of razor sharp obsidian; they all stretched away from us for a couple thousand paces. Very few people have seen it up close in the last thousand years and most of those were involved in various evil plots to summon power from the Wildlands and take over the world with it. At least, that’s what happened the last time I was out here. More on that later.
Directly in front of us was a bowl shaped feature about a hundred feet across. The ground dropped away after that so I wasn’t sure what exactly was past it. We could just see the lake out at the edge of the Bell.
Broken rocks and crevasses criss-crossed the immediate area. Down near the other side was a cleared spot with a post fitted into a flat piece of ancient stonework. It was sticking up at least ten feet and giving off strong vibes of ceremonial sacrifice accoutrements. There were chains nailed into it, hanging loose with shackles on their ends.
There were also a dozen cultists in gaudy robes of red and yellow kneeling around it. They started a low chanting right on time; just to make the whole scene a lot more ominous.
Revel watched for a moment and whispered, “All right, this is it. Thank you for your service.”
“Wait, uh, do you need help with this?” I’m not sure what prompted me to say that. She was right, I’d completed my contract. Everything after this was charity and I don’t do charity.
“No.” She started to get up.
“What are you going to do now?” Better question, why was I still talking?
All the composure washed away from her face. I saw her hands pick up a slight trembling and her lip quivered as she spoke. “I’m going to play my part. And then I’m going to do what must be done.” She reached over and grabbed my hand, giving it a friendly squeeze. “Thank you.”
I watched her stand up and swing her legs over the rocky ledge we were hiding behind. I ducked down before anyone could see her and look up. I busied myself with slowly brushing the dust off my trousers, listening to her footsteps pull away from me. The chanting from below changed its tone to something more expectant and it slowly built up.
I didn’t like the sound of any of this. I didn’t like the thoughts that were popping up in my head about what ‘playing her part’ meant. I didn’t like that when you see a dozen cultists around a pole with chains on it as if they were waiting for something, that ‘something’ usually ends up on the wrong end of a ceremonial dagger. I didn’t like that I was still sitting here thinking about all this instead of figuring out how to get out of the Wildlands alive.
The sun was hitting the twisted hilltops to the west. The transition to twilight was about to begin. I was weighing my options when a female voice came from below. The shape of the terrain carried it up to me perfectly.
“Welcome, daughter of Garm, daughter of Kotengar. You have met your appointed time. The hour is upon us. You will no longer be hidden, and the thrones will brought down and the thrones will be built up. We will cast off the bonds of our oppressors and claim our true place on Afiris.”
I’d heard my fair share of murderous maniacs ramble through a long justification for their actions. As monologues go, this one was pretty unimpressive. Lacking in detail for the casual listener like me.
The voice continued. “Are you ready, daughter, to complete the sacrifice?”
Next I heard Revel call out, “Yes, mother. I have prepared myself with both trial and focus. I am ready to be sacrificed.”
That’s when I should have just picked up and left. Yes, I should have just walked away and enjoyed a relaxing three day jog through a horror infested forest stalked by death and disease. But something about Revel’s face when she said goodbye indicated that this was not entirely consensual.
And I knew a thing or two about being trapped in a situation where you had no real control. More on that later.
I looked down at the pouch which contained a few Aether crystals. Despite the ridiculous feelings of nobility that were stirring in me, I wasn’t ready for that torture again. I drew my sword and looked around the rock. This would have to be done the old way. Besides, they were just a bunch of weakling cultists. It would be easy, I told myself. Not even worth charging Montri another gold trade bar. Maybe a silver, but not a full gold.
Revel was down amongst them now. They appeared to be painting her face and clothes with red and yellow dyes. She stood still, thin arms stretched out like a scarecrow, letting them perform whatever pre-sacrifice ritual this was. That meant I had some time. Cultists could always be counted on for that.
I backed away and started quickly and quietly to circle around to a lower position. I’d have less distance to cover and could get several strikes in before they could coordinate. Knowing that I was going to probably kill everyone down there, I was hoping that it wasn’t literally Revel’s mother in charge of this. That would be awkward.
The chanting changed again and I heard chains start to rattle. Letting her get chained up would complicate things. I needed her mobile if we were taking on a dozen people. I’m also not sure why I was thinking ‘we.’ This was all on me. But decisions are what decisions are. All decisions we ever make lead us to right now.
So now I leapt over a rock and started sprinting down the hallow ground. The way was clear and flat. There was about forty feet to cover and I was halfway there before anyone saw me. Good start.
The chanting broke apart and panic set in. The first couple of people were shouting and raising their hands defensively. It was just what I was expecting. They were not fighters and would die quickly.
Revel looked up and saw me. I’m not sure what I expected. Maybe a rallying shout of defiance? Maybe a cry of relief? Whatever I thought, I wasn’t ready for the look of disappointment that flashed across her face before she grabbed a chain out of someone’s hands and wrapped it around their throat. As I slashed into the body of the first cultist, I wasn’t quite sure what situation I had just forced myself into but the time for pondering on that had long passed.
As the second cultist died at my hand I saw their faces under their hoods. They seemed normal enough, except for the red and yellow paint, and as they dropped bleeding to the ground they had the same surprised look that all non-warriors got when they died.
Not my concern. I kicked at another one and ran my sword through one more. The shouting was a cacophony now. Some were reaching out to stop me and some were backing away. Confusion was my ally here. Another one went down under my blade.
The lead cultist had her hood back and was shouting something about a prophecy that must be fulfilled. I ignored her. I ignored her because it was irrelevant to my current course of action and because a flash of red energy burst out from one of the cultists while he roared and grew about one foot taller and two feet wider. His robe shredded around his new bulging physique.
Getting out of this was no longer an easy road. I punched the last cultist who was next to me and reached for my pouch of pain.
The glowing red cultist took a step and threw a punch at Revel. She ducked behind the body she was choking out and a glowing red fist smashed into a suffocating red face. Red blood splashed all around and Revel ducked back behind the post.
I didn’t have time to be very selective but a yellow crystal seemed appropriate. I was pretty versatile with all of them and they all hurt the same. So with a glance at Revel, I tossed the crystal in my mouth and walked another clockstrike towards my death.
Aether magic swirled around me in bright yellow bands, flowing like silks in a sea breeze. The pain started its creep up from my fingers and toes. I leapt off a body at my feet as a big glowing red hand swished past me. I jumped at the post and sprang off it, flying back at the huge cultist. Dodged a poorly aimed backhand. Dropped behind him and slashed his leg. Stuck him in the thigh and spun away as he tried to hit me again. He was roaring and I was starting to scream with pain.
Out of the corner of my eye I could see Revel and the lead cultist saying something to each other at the base of the post. Something about both their stances and the looks on their faces suggested that they probably were literally mother and daughter. I’d worry about that after I finished the big red guy.
I dodged another strike and slashed him three more times. His blood was sizzling out of several wounds now and he dropped to one knee.
Wait, were Revel and her mom hugging? It was hard to see in my pain blindness. Big Red needed to go because now I had other things to attend to.
I spun in a complete circle to build up momentum. Coming out of the spin, I brought the sword into his neck and cleaved straight through it. The rage of his Aetherbound heart pumped enough blood up in a geyser that kicked his head up about five feet before it tumbled to the rocks.
All around me there were cultists laying down with wounds and blood and separated limbs. I didn’t think I’d done all that but couldn’t be sure. Some looked a little smashed so I probably needed to share credit with Big Red.
I got control of myself and let the Aether magic release. A burst of yellow energy shot away from me and I dropped to my knees, gasping. My sword was no longer in my hand. I had to blink several times to get my vision back.
I didn’t like what I saw.
Revel’s mother punched her hard and Revel dropped, hopefully just unconscious. That part I could handle. The really concerning part were the wisps of white magical energy rising out of her mother’s back and wrapping around her like the caress of a demon angel.
White and black Aether crystals were a myth. At least I thought they were a myth. White to have all the powers and black to nullify them all; something like that. I started thinking about running off and pretending none of this ever happened. Actually, if I’m being honest, I’d already made a decision on that issue and I’m not proud of it. Especially with what happened next.
Swooping white bands of power whipped out and smacked me, sending me flying back. I hit hard and rolled. I think I dislocated my shoulder. That was new for me so I wasn’t sure but it both hurt and went numb at the same time. I tried to push myself up in a panic but my shoulder gave out and I toppled over onto my face.
Revel’s mother was walking at me with white Aether energy flowing around her like the fins of a tropical fish. “I don’t know who you are,” she said, her voice echoing with inhuman resonance. “But I am the Baroness Vonnah Issemba and you will not stop my destiny!”
She said a few other things but I was too busy trying to roll away and clear my head. I was thankful for the long explanation of her history, though, because it gave me time to reach for my pouch of crystals. That would make four of them in one day and I’ve never taken that many before. I’d likely just release a burst of destruction and shatter this whole hillside, killing Revel and everyone else, then falling unconscious for a day or two. Bad decision, I know, but it was sounding better with every step the Baroness took.
She smacked me with another white whip and I tumbled again. I had just gotten my pouch open. From her delighted laughter I had to assume that my last few crystals were bouncing away from me like dice in a five way game of Dabbo. I reached for my dagger.
Unfortunately, I ran out of solid ground before I could grasp the hilt. I rolled right off a cliff and scrambled with my good arm to catch myself. In my blurry vision I could see a drop of enough feet to kill me. I twisted slightly to look up over my shoulder and see that I might be able to clamber back up.
That is, if my other arm was working right. I couldn’t get it to raise up more than a few inches. I clutched at the rim of the cliff with a sweaty, blood soaked hand while my other hand flailed about uselessly.
This was a mostly insurmountable situation I’d gotten myself into. I actually let out a laugh as it dawned on me that I was going to die. At least the Aether wouldn’t get its chance to kill me.
The Baroness knelt above me, gleaming white in the dying sunlight. Her face was beautiful and menacing, like a mother but one that was actually a bad mother.
“You show promise,” she said. “Provided you don’t drop to your death in the next few moments. Let’s see what you are. Perhaps I’ll make you mine like I did her.”
Thin white tendrils shot out of her head like her hair was exploding. They curved around and drilled down into my face. I could feel their magic instantly peel away layers of my mind and poke around in my brain. Not painful but I started yelling anyhow. I don’t like people in my mind.
This had happened to me before. A few times. It never worked out well for the other party. Of all the things she could have chosen to do right now, this would lead to my best outcome. And it probably wouldn’t hurt any more than what I was already feeling.
The Baroness gasped and started to retch. Her eyes flew wide in surprise and fear while all her white powerful effects started dissolving away from her like melting ice. She slipped and collapsed at the cliff’s edge, only a couple feet from my face. “Archon touched,” she whispered. “Protected.” A twisted and pained look crossed her face and she seemed to look past me. “You cannot have my daughter...”
Revel appeared over her with my sword and plunged it down with both hands. The blade went straight through her back, picked up some of the last bits of her power, and stabbed deep into the rock. The life and fear faded out of the Baroness’s eyes and she slumped dead. Like I said, looking into my mind was a bad idea. I seldom did it any more.
Revel looked like shit. The red and yellow paints were smeared and streaked. Her eyes and nose were running. Underneath all that she was gaunt and grey.
She reached down and grabbed my wrist just as I let go of the ledge. I couldn’t believe she still had any strength in her starved body but she got her feet under her and pulled hard, using her back and legs. She dragged me up over the lip and I was able to find purchase with my feet and lurch into a heap laying next to her.
We lay there for several seconds, just catching our breath. She lifted up her ratty shirt to wipe off her face, apparently not caring about what she was revealing underneath. We were either at a new stage of our relationship or she just didn’t give a fuck.
She groaned and propped herself up on her elbow, looking down at me. “You big dummy, you nearly ruined everything!”
“I figured,” was all I could spit out.
“My mother was planning on destroying three crowns tonight. I knew two of them but didn’t know the third. Thank the gods that she told me before you threw a bucket of shit into the whole thing.”
“Got it. Next time I won’t try to save you.”
“Please. I’ve got one more parent to kill and I don’t need your help.”
I grabbed at my bad shoulder and tried to feel what was wrong. “So, wait. Is everyone dead?”
“No, and that’s the point. There are two senators in this cabal and I’ve got them chained up at the post. We’re just lucky you didn’t kill them. How much random death do you spin out with your crystals?”
I’d stopped counting that number long ago. “A lot.” I kept poking at my shoulder and wincing.
“What’s wrong?”
“I think it’s dislocated.”
She sighed with annoyance. I saw her check back on the litter of dead bodies and then she swung a leg up and over me, sitting on my stomach. “Here,” she said, grabbing my shoulder and elbow. With a twist she shoved my joints together. The pain was sharp like a hot needle and I let out a welp.
She sat back, putting her weight on my hip bones. “Big baby, that was nothing.”
I have to admit that even as wretched as she looked, I was having thoughts. So I started to roll over and push her gently off to one side. “Night’s falling and there’s blood all over this place. We’ve got to get moving.”
Luckily for us, while I was hanging above certain death I’d seen a train of horses waiting nervously below the cliff while the cultists finished their work. We’d have some transport out of here at least.
We both stood. I looked down at my sword and the dead body at its end. A couple tugs on it told me that the last of the Baroness’s power had fused it into the rock and it wasn’t coming out. That would likely spawn some kind of crazy legend when the Baroness rotted and crumbled away, leaving it stuck in the stone. I watched Revel move away without looking back. “I’ve heard of some fucked up families before but this tops them all. You’re killing your father next? What’s he going to think of all this?”
She was walking over to the post. Now I could see two of the cultists slumped over unconscious with chains around them. “Fucked up family? He was the one who set this up for me. That’s how fucked up we are. And since the palace of Garm didn’t shake itself into a pile of eldritch slime and he’s not being declared Governor General until the next king can be crowned, I think he’s probably figured out that this ritual didn’t work. He’ll be angry and he’ll lash out, make mistakes.” She toed at a couple bodies. “Ahhg! I was supposed to kill that bitch and then take over her coven! How the fuck can I take over a coven that’s all dead?”
So, clearly I’d made a mess of more than one plan today. Even after all my work and all my killing, I’d never usually stuck around long enough for this part of the client interaction. I literally didn’t know what to say so I just stood there with a stupid look on my face.
She turned on me. “What?” It wasn’t a question.
I shrugged, but not very well because my shoulder still hurt too much. I had no witty rejoinder so I just mumbled, “There’s horses down below.”
She made an irritated, exasperated sound and grabbed at the chains. “Help me with these two.”
I started forward but my mind went back to what the Baroness had said. I didn’t like the plan that was brewing in my head but maybe it was the way to put all my killing behind me.
***
Two days of hard riding and avoiding a Volkir heavy patrol followed. Actually we led the patrol into a slayspider colony and let them be eaten. Revel enjoyed that part and thanked me for the idea.
The senators accepted her leadership with some kind of odd sense of honor. It was Garman politics and I didn’t really care that much about it. When we got close to the border of the Wildlands and Skalhyn, Revel started getting antsy and said she didn’t want to see her brother so she and the senators took a side road leading north. It was family politics and I didn’t really care that much about it.
But as I watched her ride away, I knew I would see her again. And I felt terrible about it.
Now, I stood behind some sepulchers at the far end of an abandoned cemetery. Grey stone, weathered by time and indifference, stood around me like prison guards. Before you start bemoaning the location as an unnecessarily theatrical choice for the coming ritual, you should know that what I need is privacy and these types of places are great for keeping out curious eyes and still being close enough to a good noodle shop when I’m done.
I stood there and took in a deep breath to focus. The air seemed to cool around me and I began to walk in a sunwise circle. The steps were slow but steady. Sure, I could run and get there faster but that never seemed appropriate. The sounds of the city beyond the gates and the insects in the grass and the breeze in the leaves grew dim and hollow. On my third circle I closed my eyes for several steps. When I opened them I was no longer in Skalhyn, I was Elsewhere.
Grey cloud was all around me, above and below. My feet still felt like they were on gravel but the sound of crunching rock had faded. I looked up in any direction, it never mattered, and waited. Within a few moments some of the cloud rolled back and I saw the silhouette of a man approaching. He always appeared slightly above me, walking down to my level. I was sure that this was an affectation intended to exert dominance. I've used it myself plenty of times.
He was known in some cultures as The Shadow of the Self. In others as The Adversary. Kasmari legends called him Baelzebub but I always thought that was a stupid name. I called him Bubba once and he added several clockstrikes to my debt so I didn’t do that anymore.
He never appeared very close to me, always moving in shadow with dramatic wisps of cloud surrounding him. He paused at his normal distance. “Khenton Allgiver, good to see you again. You have whittled time away quite a bit since we last spoke.”
Remember when I said I’d tell you more about certain things later? Yeah, I decided not to do that. It might give you the mistaken impression that I’m some kind of hero. I’m not. “I have a new proposition for you. A game of chance, if you will.”
He turned and began his typical casual stroll like he often did. I noticed the faintest spark of red light where his eyes would be but it quickly faded. “Intriguing. Continue.”
“I’ve met someone with a mission a bit like mine. There’s a lot of killing she needs to do. I was wondering if we could arrange a trade. Time for time, souls for souls. That kind of thing.”
This time I clearly saw the eyes glow red. Along with his smile.
-30-
© Jeff Draper, 2025
“The World of Tialma” and all references within it are © Thorkhen
