Index:
Episode 1 - The League of Iron assembles
Episode 3 - Legacy of the Veil Breakers
Episode 7 - Home is where the hearth is
Episode 8 - Last of the Old Ones
Episode 12 - Mistress of Flesh
Episode 15 - March of the parasites
Soothing tranquil.
Shrouding everything and everyone, Sister Night's dark mantle ruled the outside. Unperturbed and aware, the guardians of this fort marched along its thick walls. They patted their warm cloaks so the frosty snowflakes could not hold their starry hands and grow into sheets of ice. Magick lanterns wrapped these vigilant soldiers in capes of hallowed glow. These marching patches of light scintillated like little stars upon Night's sprawling cloak of comfy darkness.
Gloves of dusk most natural, Sister Night caressed their mind and soul, for these soldiers stood guard not only against enemies of flesh. She knew, if these noble warriors failed in their duty, Thulm vileness would corrupt all, Her siblings included. They without a lantern and touched by Night's tender fingers, found their sight able to pierce Her mantle.
For as long as Sister Night ruled here, none would overcome the soldiers' watchfulness, or slink past their ear.
The homely abode of Master Gelduin was at peace once more. Safe, little Lyra slumbered in her mother's loving bosom. Breathing evenly, calmly, the child's face was adorned by a gentle smile, yet Gelduin studied his daughter's face. The worried father sought but a single wound and unable to detect any, sighed a heavy sigh of relief.
Awoken by the commotion, Lyra's sisters came running out of their bedchambers. Both father and mother attempted to calm the panicked girls by uttering reassuring words and promises of safety. However, what defeated their panic was them witnessing their calmly sleeping sister and parents safe.
Without elaborating upon the true measure of what horrid danger had nigh befell their homestead, the parents sent them all to their beds. Once morrow dawned, Osnhild promised to tell them and, 'twas beyond evident she wouldn't give the whole truth up.
A truth which the Sorceress was soon to share with them.
“What was that... thing?” - Whispered Gelduin, as his eyes studied the vanishing remains of Lyra's beloved stuffed toy.
“It was Shog-Khaigath.” - The candle lights flickered for a single breath when the Sorceress uttered this name most unnatural.
“Last of the Old Ones, this monstrum's home is somewhere far beyond our Cosmos. A place of unexistence, where only the unborn roam. A time-locked horror, which even the daemons conjured by the Flesh Witches of Thulm couldn't dream of. Just learning its name took the lives of many a generation of sorcerers.”
“Then how is it that you managed to smite it into ruin?” - Inquired the Knight, still reeling from the shock, as he studied a pinkish scar; one of his many, healed lesions left on his palm.
Eirunn frowned, and a single, glistening in the candlelight tear tumbled down her beautiful cheek. She cast her gaze upon the sleeping child and sobbed a few times, until the Priest wiped her tears with his callous-covered coarse hand.
“I shan't ask you Master Gelduin, nor you Lady Osnhild, what would you do had this monstrum took your child.”
The parents shared another look, primal terror spilling out of their eyes.
“That thing... it took my baby brother.” - her lower lip trembled and terrible memories spilt out from her eyes - “My mother gave her life to rebuke this otherworldly beast.”
“As a little girl, I thought that my family was so lucky! Mother married Father soon after her twentieth summer and they had me. Then, two years later, my baby brother was born and they rejoiced. We were both healthy and with great magicks burning bright within our strong hearts. My parents, happy that Life gifted them with such a boon, immediately went out and sought perspective partners, for when I and little Teirn became of age.”
Eirunn's gentle fingers twitched and she reached up, as if someone of little stature stood there, hair ready to be ruffled, face, caressed. Denied, her hands recoiled, and she clutched them near her bosom, a shaky smile upon her full lips.
“Not that many know about the nature our magicks, but a few priests of Vayila and mayhap the oldest of Sages. Creation is powerful, yet there is a hefty price to pay. Sometimes children are unable to control themselves and endure great bodily harm. Others, born weak of constitution, cannot suffer to bear that power and are... crippled for life by it. Thus, this ever-growing magick is best controlled by what nature gave us.”
“The life-giving gift of Motherly and Fatherly Love.” - Nodded the Priest, and with his left hand made a series of blessing motions, pointing at Gelduin and his pregnant wife Osnhild, singing - “Gentle Vayila bless your children.”
“In my folly, I let my hubris consume me and believed that without help, alone I could avenge my brother and mother. Against the wise words of my father, all I did was train, study, and then train some more. During the day I ran up the steepest of hills, climbed the tallest of trees, and swam in the deepest, swiftest of waters. At night, instead of embracing Slumber, I would read olden scrolls, on the look for this thing's name. Years passed like a flash, and my already significant gifts blossomed into a mighty power.”
Deep inside her eyes two blue lights became aglow and with even more sadness, Eirunn continued:
“On my twenty-fifth birthday, I had finally uncovered the filthy thing's name. Upon returning home I bragged about this victory of mine, yet with a sad frown, my father tried to reason with me. He warned me, just like he did many a time before, that I am playing with fire. That unless I put my happiness before revenge, I could cause the bane of others. I didn't listen! Why didn't I ever listen!?”
Eirunn clutched her hands into fists and, teeth gnashing, hit her chest.
“I was so full of rage and said things... terrible words, such that I couldn't take back. Moreover, deep down inside I felt my father spoke the truth. Because he loved me so much, I, his only remaining child, father wanted me to be happy. Instead of following his advice, I recoiled and gave myself to anger, to fire, I...”
Her companions glared at the ruined bedchamber, their eyes tracing the still smoldering burn marks left on its floor.
“You see, no matter how beneficial, too much of something can kill. I trained myself too long and way too hard, my only purpose in life to visit terrible vengeance upon the monstrum. At this moment, in my fool's rage, I became one! My mind and soul became blank. I awoke on the burnt to cinders floor of my home, a bronze-forged bracelet on my wrist and the curled remnants of my father laying beside my feet. He'd hugged me after crawling through that magick, intent on using that item to save me, and everyone else in our town.”
“I became my father's bane...” - Ending her story said the Sorceress and wept another, sorrowful tear.
“This is why you wear Thulm's accursed craft upon your wrist.” - Uttered with sadness on his chiseled face the Elven clergyman, and sighed - “A slave's bracelet.”
“You learned your priestly craft well, Master Elf.” - Nodded she and showed said bronze-forged bracelet on the candlelight, so her companions could see it.
“Cursed?” - mumbled the Ranger, his eyes squinted as he studied the item in question.
“Indeed, this is how the Bone Raiders bond those of the arcane persuasion into soul-crushing slavery.” - His brow furrowed said the Knight, and moved the candle closer, eyes locked at the bronze-craft.
“A foul, spell-drinking curse, one which I was learned how to decimate.” - Master Ainhart stated and his voice radiated so much concentrated calm, that this feeling spread swifter than the candlelight which illuminated their surroundings.
“Mayhap one day, if we are bound to fail our Quest, I will ask you of such a doom.” - The Sorceress gazed into his eyes, the ends of her long mane still aglow, and twinkling with magick.
“Speak neither of failure or of doom, Sorceress.” - The Knight showed her his fully healed hand and added with a grin - “We are together and we are alive. Therefore, our mightiest allies, Princess Hope, her guiding light shines upon us!”
The Dwarf scratched his beard, and eyes full of thought, raised an eyebrow.
“The Veil Breakers hid from Creation behind the souls of the innocent. This... Shog-Khaigath... he used my Lyra as a shield... didn't he?” - Master Gelduin asked, notes of steel in his voice.
“It called itself, Us, Master Dwarf. Even I know not why, and that after reading hundreds of ancient scrolls about his kind. Pure luck or... mayhap the will of Vayila herself that I was even here! For only one who survived them could sense their vile presence.”
Eirunn canted her head and some of her sadness vanished when she faced Ainhart's tranquil grin.
“Oh, you better believe it was Gentle Vayila who placed you exactly where you needed to be. For little Lyra's sake!”
“For justice!” - Stated Dalnor, left hand on his heart - “I feel it is because of your father's love you can even unshackle that accursed bracelet, dear Sorceress.”
“Yes, I believe our knightly companion speaks true!” - Smiled the Dwarf, holding his wife's hand in his.
“I would imagine nothing and no one could stop my dear husband. He'll come charging out from Afterlife itself, if his children are threatened.” - Said Osnhild and kissed her husband's brow.
“When I petitioned my King, proclaimed my desire to volunteer and become the Arkan kin of this Four, my want for vengeance was long dead. Instead, what I promised my noble Liege was to use this nigh uncontrollable force of mine and ensure the Overlord's demise. If things turn for the worse, sacrificing this foolish Sorceress might atone for her terrible sins.”
“My life for many.” - Said Eirunn and stole another look at Osnhild's belly.
The Four were silent for many breaths and looked at each other. Osnhild silently observed them contemplating the thought of giving their very lives to protect others. She reached for her husband's hand and placed it upon her stomach. He could be the Ranger of this Four, yet he had a wife, a home, and children to return to.
Helping no longer sobbing Eirunn on her feet, the Priest announced:
“I, for one, embrace Princess Hope! Might I remind you, dear Sorceress, that is why we are Four. Alkiorn's Kings and Queens have long since deduced that no warrior, priestly sage, warden of Mother Forest, or master of the arcane, is to face danger alone.”
“We may be strong, but few could suffer all of us.” - Uttered the Dwarf and he too stood up, joined by Osnhild who gently rocked her sound asleep child.
“Whatever hardships lay ahead, I believe in our Sorceress.” - Dalnor stated with confidence and graced Eirunn with a stern smile - “After all, she vanquished a thing not of our cosmos, and smote Veil Breakers upon their ruin with word, spear, and magick.”
The Four walked down the corridor, some of them still limping, until they reached the staircase. Ainhart patted Eirunn over the shoulder before he and Dalnor entered their rooms.
“Come, maiden Sorceress, our Hearth is still warm.” - Osnhild gave Lyra to her husband and pointed down the stairs - “I can't offer another room, but my mother's rocking chair is empty, and I have many a warm blanket.”
When the Arkan kin was resting in the aforementioned chair, swiftly being turned into a cozy cocoon, Osnhild inquired:
“One thing I can't understand. How is Lyra still asleep after all of this... commotion?”
“The power of Creation offers many boons, Lady Osnhild. As hard as it is to control, often the simplest of magicks are the most useful.” - Yawned the tired Sorceress, her spear at an arms reach.
“I wove a simple dream for your littlest. Right now she be chasing that beloved, fluffy toy of hers.”
More the Arkan kin could not say, for she was dreaming herself, in Slumber's gentle embrace.
The dwarven matron canted her head and hands on her hip, whispered under her nose:
“Then I better get sewing.”
***
Dear reader, if you liked this story, you might enjoy my published work.
A good glimpse into the sorceress's past - I wasn't expecting tragedy, especially such a gruesome one. Hopefully she finds some kind of redemption before this quest is ended.
One part confused me: the slave bracelet on her wrist. If it supresses magic, how us she still able to cast spells? Did Ainart disable the bracelet's curse? I couldn't tell if that's what was meant when he said “A foul, spell-drinking curse, one which I was learned how to decimate.”
One of my favorite ongoing stories right now. I look forward to this every wednesday.
Thank you for posting this. A powerful woman!