Sunrise came slowly to the thinning woods Cailin and Kuro travelled through, the leaves turning towards the light after another night spent bereft of its life giving gifts. The gnarled and ancient oaks slowly gave way to tall pines, which in turn gave way to clumps of ash. The vegetation slowly scaled down the further the pair went, until they traversed an open plain, the sea of tall grass before them rippling in the wind that danced across its surface. Cailin felt a sense of relief as they crossed out from the forest. The pair sat quietly for a few minutes, watching the play of wind over grass.
Finally, Cailin put heels to his horse and Kuro swept ahead, disappearing into the green mass. Cailin smiled as his friend sent back images of green stalks across the bond, with the occasional rodent mixed in. Fortunately, he wasn't eating them, and Cailin doubted that rodents would feed the cats hunger. A rabbit here and there, on the other hand…
The clear blue sky above them seemed to stretch on forever, with the sun two hands above the horizon, in front and slightly to the left of the pair. Cailin leaned back in the saddle, letting the horse pick the way. He felt a burst of amusement from Kuro as the giant cat started chasing a rabbit through the grass. He often forgot that Kuro was still young, considered adolescent by his species, regardless of how mature his mind and behaviour was most of the time. Now, the inner child was having a ball, and Cailin could see his friend's long black tail poking out from the grass, like a rudder on an overturned ship, swishing this way and that as he chased the rabbit.
The rolling grass gave way to a flat plain, cut by a wide river which the pair followed. By dusk on the second day from the forest, Cailin could see the river curving slightly to the west, with the steppes of the great mountains rising east of him before marching north, away from where he and Kuro were going. Kuro found some ruins where they decided to camp that night before resuming their journey in the morning.
As he ate his evening meal, Cailin studied the ruins he found himself in. The crumbling stone was covered in strange symbols and markings, which all seemed to spiral inward, as far as he could tell. He strolled from pillar to pillar, following the lines of the symbols cut into the remaining walls and the floor. He eventually found himself in the centre of the room, beneath a starry sky as the waxing moon shed its weakening light on an indentation in the floor.
Cailin scraped away the accumulated plant debris with his boot, revealing a crystal set into the indentation, with all the lines of symbols spiralling into it. The moonlight reflected off of its dulled surface, and the warrior squatted down next to it, putting his plate on the ground next to him and gently wiping the dust off the facets of the crystal before him. It seemed to glow with a burnt orange colour in the faint light.
Temptation crept into Cailin’s mind. He could take the crystal and no-one would know or care. He found himself staring into its glowing depths, seeing images form and flow and swirl. The images spoke to him, reached out to him, seeming to pierce the barrier of the crystal itself. The images seemed to draw him into the depths of the crystal.
He found himself standing in the ruins, watching as it rebuilt itself around him. The world seemed grey and washed out, like looking at a colorless landscape through water. The walls reformed, bricks coming to rest each in their place as the overgrown vegetation receded. He looked up as the last stones of the ceiling settled into place. Figures began to move around him, shadows looking like a giant hand had smashed them flat and tried to wipe them away, smudging their outlines.
He looked on as the figures moved in a bizarre dance, a ritual of some kind. He could not make out any words, only a dull dum, like listening to a huge crowd from the inside of a windowless room. He watched as a little girl was brought into the chamber, and made to stand over the crystal. She looked like she was crying.
One of the shadowy figures stood behind her as the rest encircled the child. All raised their arms as the drone swelled in Cailin’s ears. The child looked up, and Cailin could see a thousand faces flitting over and replacing the child before him. He tried to reach out to her but found that he couldn't move. One of the shadows was raising a knife behind the child. Cailin strained, a scream fighting to break free of his throat, but he was forced to watch as the knife descended and the thousand children screamed as one.
The figure with the knife looked up , directly at Cailin, and threw its hood back. It was a woman. Her piercing lavender eyes were rimmed in red, and her smile revealed two elongated incisors, almost like fangs. Her raven hair seemed to float around her head, like a shadowed halo. She stepped over the body at her feet, pushing the other shadows aside, reaching out to Cailin.
There you are… her voice rose above the hum, and her laugh sent chills racing up and down Cailins spine. He strained with all his might to break free as she closed the distance between them, her knife glinting in the shadowy light.
The distance shrunk, and her fingers brushed his face, her long nails lightly scratching his skin. Where they dragged over him, searing pain shot into his head and he tried to scream again but still couldn't find his voice. The woman sneered as she grabbed his face, and the pain of her touch burned through Cailins very being. He finally screamed.
As he screamed, he felt something release deep in his chest. A thump, more felt than heard, thrust the woman back several steps, and her face changed from sneering to shock. Cailin found that he could move, and he instinctively slammed his fists together, another shockwave bursting out from him. The woman raised her arms, floating up more than a meter from the floor.
Cailin knew that he had to break free from whatever this was, and clenched his fists above his head, feeling his power build inside him, as the woman floated closer, both hands reaching out for him again. He was running out of time, and should the woman get her hands on him again, he knew he would be lost. He snapped his arms down, a third shockwave ripping out from him, and he caught a glimpse of the crystal quivering where it was stuck in the ground.
The place he was in quivered with the crystal, and he knew what he had to do.
Cailin swiftly drew his sword, leapt forward and swung at the crystal with all his strength. The tip of the blade sheared through several of the shadows as it came around, the figures vanishing into the greyness as the blade cut them in two. Cailin could hear the woman screaming at him, but he paid her no mind, focussing on the crystal to the exclusion of everything else.
He felt her nails clawing the back of his neck as his blade bit into the floor just before the indentation that held the crystal. The stone of the floor barely stopped his blade, and it sheared through the crystal, shattering it. Cailin spun with the momentum, bringing the sword up before the woman floating before him.
She hung in place, clutching her head as she began to scream. Cailin watched, unwilling to release his guard, as she clawed at her face. But instead of blood, dark cracks were appearing. The cracks spread over her face, a spider's web of destruction, reaching down her neck and climbing into her hair. She screamed louder as the cracks spread until she threw her head back in one massive howl of agony, and the place they were in shattered like a pane of glass meeting a hammer.
The pieces got sucked back into the shattered crystal, dragging the howling woman with them. In a few moments they were gone and the stillness was broken only by Cailin’s panting. He lifted up his blade, inspecting the front edge where he had sheared through the stone. The razor sharp edge glinted back at him in the faint moonlight. There wasn’t so much as a scratch, and not a single nick or chip in the blade. Blake would be very pleased with his handiwork, Cailin thought to himself as he pushed himself upright.
He sheathed his sword, and took note of how the back of his neck stung where the woman had scratched him as he absently rubbed the area with the flat of his hand. It felt so real, he thought to himself, as he picked up his plate and headed back to his gear. No. It WAS real, somehow... He rinsed it off with a bit of water from his bottle, then packed it all back into his saddlebags, constantly rubbing at the back of his neck. A burning sensation had begun creeping down to his shoulders, and he dug around in his bag for his healing kit that Hazel had packed for him.
When he found it, he pulled out an ointment Hazel taught him to make, that worked against inflammation and infection. He pulled his shirt off, liberally applying the salve to the back of his neck and shoulders, leaning forward afterwards and feeling the pain begin to recede. He had just packed everything away when Kuro came padding into ruin, nose to the ground. Cailin felt his friends’ sense suddenly explode into the forefront of his mind, worry and fear mixed with anger and desperation.
Kuro looked up, relief flooding his senses as he jumped over to Cailin, trotting in circles around the man as questions flooded over the bond. It took several minutes to calm the massive cat down, and when he finally laid down with his head in Cailin’s lap, the source of Kuro’s worry became clear.
You were just gone, the cat said. One moment I was scouting the area, and knew where you were and the next your sense disappeared. I’ve been hunting for you for hours. Cailin was surprised by the last bit. He had only been in the illusion for what felt like a few minutes at most, not several hours. When he told Kuro about his experience, the cat’s ears turned back and lay flat on his head, the fur along his back rising and his tail puffed out. It was evil, the cat’s thought shot across the bond. And if more such places exist, we must destroy them as well.
Cailin nodded his agreement, still feeling the heat from the scratches on the back of his neck. Anyone could stumble onto places like this and be caught and killed in the illusions. If it had not happened already. He patted Kuro’s neck, feeling the muscles underneath, like coiled steel ropes. We will find them. And destroy them. One less evil in the world. Kuro huffed his agreement.
Cailin heaved himself to his feet. Let’s go, Kuro. I don't want to stay here tonight. Kuro’s agreement flowed across the bond, and he was already heading into the shadows. Cailin saddled up hurriedly, glancing around the ruins and back at the shattered crystal. On a whim, he quickly strode over and gathered up the remnants of the orange stone, tying them in a cloth and stuffing them into a saddlebag before hauling himself into the saddle and following the giant cat into the velvety night.
From the shadows, a pair of lavender eyes followed him, a hunger burning deep within them. This had been an unexpected boon, to find the warrior from the north, this Acolyte. Geros had been explicit in his instructions, to infiltrate and corrupt all in the fortress, but Ath’Teruk’s instructions overruled those of the priest. And his instructions were simple. If the Acolyte is revealed, he is to be killed.
The succubus closed her eyes in the ruins, and opened them in the cathedral. It had been a week since she had been born into this body, and she has been thoroughly enjoying herself. Some of her amusements died in the process of entertaining her, and some fed more than her lust. Some fed her hunger.
The illusion the orange crystal had almost caught the Acolyte in was a web laid over several crystals in several ruins scattered across the land, and became active recently, when a succubus again walked the land. The magic of a succubus was ancient, evil and vicious, and nearly claimed a victim this night. The fact that her web failed at the last moment slightly soured her experience in the illusion. She was also curious to know how he knew to smash the crystal.
The questions floated around in her head as she headed for the stairs leading from the chamber beneath the cathedral, her naked body glistening in the torchlight. As she crossed the chamber towards the stairs, the air around her shimmered, forming clothing of the finest weave, smallclothes followed by a deep red dress, ending with a black cape sweeping the floor behind her. As she passed the double ring of boiling blood, she felt the essence of the woman whose body was given to her scream in the dim recesses of her mind.
The succubus quickly climbed the stairs and went in search of the priest. She found him in his study, writing a sermon for his ‘flock’, as he called the simpletons of the city. If the sermon was anything like the others she had heard, she would admit that this mere human was as skilled at manipulation and the slow corruption of the soul as any of her master’s lieutenants. She stepped into the study, and closed the door behind her before settling into one of the other chairs in the large room, glancing around at the religious paraphernalia and bookshelves filled with books that lined the walls behind and to either side of the large oak desk the priest was sitting at.
He merely glanced at her when she came in, and ignored her until he had finished writing his sermon. He sat back, watching the woman before him with his fingers steepled before his chin. His dark eyes seemed to bore into her, a look which would have caused anyone else great discomfort at the very least, but she merely spread her legs suggestively as she pulled her skirt up slightly, her tongue skating across her ruby lips.
He snorted, leaning forward and resting on his forearms. “You have blood on your teeth.” he grunted, clearly not impressed by her show. Of course, he knew exactly what she was, so he felt no inclination to engage in any form of physical contact with her. And, he has seen the pile of corpses in the chamber below the cathedral. “I’m assuming you wanted something. Or are you just here to flaunt how you can disobey my orders?”
The line between master and servant was blurred to the point of indistinction between them. They both served the same master, and while she was supposed to be subservient to him, she routinely ignored his instructions and went about her business in any way she pleased. Geros recalled one particular incident that riled him still. She came prancing into a private sermon naked as the day she had been born, grabbed a young man from one of the pews and dragged him away for some sport. This, of course, created a situation he found difficult to handle, as he could not come up with a plausible explanation for a naked woman having her way with congregants in the cathedral itself. Fortunately the young man survived and was forcefully convinced that it was a religious experience, but his scars would be with him forever. He still hung around the cathedral, completely under the succubus’ spell, and Geros had considered killing him on several occasions.
Still, having the succubus around was useful, in its own way. She was a brutally efficient killer, for one, and her origins gave her certain advantages over mortal servants. If only her obedience to his orders would match her efficiency in other aspects, he would be less displeased with her other activities.
“I wanted to tell you that I’m leaving for a time. I hope you won't miss me too much.” Her voice was Ariadna’s, tinted with a throaty undertone. Where Ariadna’s voice had been soothing, the demoness’ voice was as soothing as drowning in molten rock. She leaned forward, licking her lips again and smiling. Her incisors had lengthened slightly since she possessed Ariadna’s body, an effect Geros found somewhat arousing.
He huffed, lounging back in his chair again. “And you need something from me? Are you finally going to hunt down the ones that destroyed the stones?” he asked, hiding his annoyance. It stemmed more from the fact that she was leaving than anything else. He would need her in the near future, but would have to alter his plans to make do without her. She grinned as she rose to her feet. “I need nothing from you, mortal.” her laughter had a mocking edge to it that Geros ignored.
“And where will you be going, succubus? Have the cattle in the city begun boring you? Off to find a fresh supply of young, virile men and women to sate your lust?” He snorted again, muttering about the dead bodies littering his spell chamber below.
She grinned widely, but there was no mirth or amusement in it. It was the coldest grin Geros had ever seen, and he had delivered many of his own.
“No…” she hissed. “I have found the Acolyte. And I’m going to track him down, and tear him apart, and bathe in whatever blood remains!” Geros’ eyes widened, and he shot to his feet, leaning on his fists pressed to the tabletop. “Where is he? Where is the Acolyte!” he demanded of her, but her grin never faltered as the two faced off across the table. Geros drew power, feeling the air begin to stir around him. The succubus, in turn, seeing Geros drawing power, bled her human appearance away in favor of her true one.
Her nails lengthened to claws, black and shiny as obsidian, and her skin darkened to a deep green hue, the skin splitting into millions of small scales that shimmered in the light coming in from the high windows. Her clothes melted into her, flowing over her scales to her back, there to form her inverted wings which snapped open. Her face elongated slightly, and her brows sharpened and hardened into ridges above her eyes. Unlike the red Ariadna saw that night, her eyes were now a burnished yellow, with vertical pupils. She grinned at the priest, showing her long incisors, and a forked tongue flickered out. Her change ended with her hair, splitting down the middle, hardening as they twisted into her huge curled horns.
“Well?” she hissed at Geros. “Want to take the chance and face me?” Her voice became talons on a chalkboard, but Geros stood firm. He was tempted, so tempted, to strike this monstrous thing down. He could easily summon other servants. But she was here on Ath’Teruk’s direct order, and crossing his master was the last thing Geros wanted to do. He took a deep breath, and let it out slowly, allowing the built up power to drain away. The succubus smiled, melting back into her human body, complete with clothing.
“A wise decision, Geros.” She smiled at him, a condescending smile dripping with derision. She turned away, but paused. Throwing a look over her shoulder, she winked at him. “I'll call you if I need your … assistance…” she grinned again, then swept from the room.
Geros sat down heavily. The Acolyte was moving in the world. Ath’Teruk has warned him of this day, that a descendant of those who had defeated him in the great war would emerge to oppose him again. Of course, Geros had no way of knowing who the Acolyte was, nevermind where he or she was. A bitterness welled up inside him at the thought of the lost glory, glory to be won in delivering to his master the news that the Acolyte was dead.
Geros raised his head, a thoughtful frown creasing his face. He got up from his desk, striding over to one of the large bookshelves, and began reading the spines of the books there. As steeped as he was in evil, he was not stupid, and was incredibly well read. A large portion of the books in his study were histories, some dealt with magic and its applications in forgotten times, others with religious thought.
He had read them all, and regularly purchased new books, from reputable merchants, and from faceless men hidden in shadows.
One of the books dealt exclusively with the great war, was exceedingly rare and had been banned in times past. Geros had paid handsomely for it, in coin and favors, and it had been worth every single coin and drop of blood. He found it, hidden behind several books on religion and its practices, and carried it over to his desk, setting it down carefully before settling into his chair.
This book was strange in that it was not skewed or biased in either direction. It was completely objective, totally balanced and very explicit in its details. It was rumoured that the spirits themselves had written this book, before, during and after the war that almost ended the world. Geros didn’t believe that, but the insights delivered in the book were unparalleled.
Geros pored over the book for hours before finding what he was looking for. A prediction was made that Ath’Teruk’s appetite for destruction and domination would drive him to break free of his bondage the seven mages had sentenced him to, and the spirits living in the world must oppose him, such was the terror he spread among their number. And the bloodlines of the seven would rise to meet him in battle again.
Geros paged through the rest of the book, looking for any other mention of the seven, but could find none. But, he thought to himself, if there was one, there must be others. Several hours and several genealogies on the descendants of various families, he had identified several lines that may be descended from the seven. He pulled a blank page to him, dipped his quill in ink, and began writing instructions to his agents. If the Acolyte was moving through the world, and the damned succubus eliminated him, another might rise in his place. But if Geros could find the other descendants, and kill them off…. He smiled a cold smile as he signed the instructions.
He leaned back in his chair, waving his hand over the page and watching the duplicates appear on the pages next to it. He picked up the stack of pages, rolled them up individually and sealed them with black wax, then went down to his chamber under the cathedral. Once there, he summoned several imps, minions he was given control over, and instructed them to deliver his letters to his agents abroad. As the last of the imps scampered into the portals he held open for them, he felt satisfaction well up in him. Let the succubus eliminate the Acolyte. He would be the one to ensure that no one can replace him.
The land around Cailin stretched out, dotted here and there with lonely farms that they passed without incident. Once or twice they were close enough for a farmer and his sons to see them as they passed by a field. The farmers spared a glance for the warrior on his horse, but goggled at the massive cat keeping pace. As the land had become more and more tamed, the need for Kuro to scout ahead had evaporated and he now stayed close to Cailin.
For his part, Cailin was grateful that his companion had stayed close. The conversation was a welcome distraction from the memories that gnawed at him from the illusion. He had started having nightmares when they stopped for the night after he had gotten himself trapped in the illusion. Visions of unrelenting slaughter; men, women and children falling under flashing knives and he was powerless to stop it. He had tried avoiding sleep altogether but his irritability from lack of sleep finally drove Kuro to put his paw down and insist that Cailin get some sleep.
While the sleep had been broken, Cailin still felt better when he got up the next morning, and apologized to Kuro for his recent behaviour. Kuro just brushed it off before heading out to hunt down some breakfast.
The road they followed went past more and more farms, and began to widen, and before long, a small city began to rise out of the horizon, smoke streaming from several places as the sun reached its peak. The city’s stone walls stood against the backdrop of several four and five story buildings peeking over the crenelated top, and the stone looked grey and weathered. As the pair approached, a huge gate greeted them, standing open and manned by several soldiers. Their breastplates and conical helmets shone in the midday sun, and they were armed with spears, short swords and small,leather covered wooden shields. As Cailin and Kuro approached, they were halted by the sergeant of the guard.
“Good day, traveller. State your business in Belen’s Bridge, if you please.” the sergeant asked politely. Unlike the other soldiers, he was armed with a large ledger and a quill. Cailin smiled at the sergeant, nodded to the giant cat beside him and replied: “Merely passing through, my friend. We are on our way to Gannon’s Rest. Do you know of a good inn, one with a stable?” The sergeant was writing in the ledger but stopped with a thoughtful frown on his face.
“You could try the Triple Die. I know the owner, and his wife. Ask for Renn and tell him Sargeant Rivers sent you.” He replied, then eyed Kuro who was busy cleaning one of his massive paws. “They have a good stable. And a large yard with no chickens or goats….” Kuro looked at the sergeant, and flexed his paw, letting his long, razor sharp claws slip into view. The sergeant took an involuntary step back, his face going slightly pale and his squad stirred behind him.
Cailin laid his hand on Kuro’s head. He knew Kuro was playing with the sergeant, but he also knew that the sergeant didn't know that. “Be at ease, sergeant. He can understand our language, and he was making a joke.” Kuro huffed at the sergeant, a ripple running down his fur as he bared his teeth. The sergeant stammered a bit before regaining his posture, huffing back at the cat before waving them through the gate. As he rode past, Cailin leaned down, slipping the sergeant several small coins. “For the information, and a drink after your shift.” Cailin winked at the sergeant.
Humans are strange. So lofty and sure of themselves until they find something bigger and stronger than them. Kuro’s thought carried amusement across the bond, and Cailin smiled to himself as they made their way into the city, looking for the Triple Die inn. They found it eventually, in one of the more well to do areas of the city. The yard was spacious, cultivated trees marched down the perimeter of the property, with a low fence and gate greeting prospective patrons. The road to the stables at the back of the inn was gravelled, as was the path from the gate to the front door.
The inn itself was quite large, with three floors reaching up to the sky. Cailin swung down from his horse as a stableboy ran up to the gate but stopped dead as he caught sight of Kuro sniffing at the fence, his tail swishing from side to side. Cailin handed the boy the reins, reassuring him that Kuro wouldn't attack him as the huge cat lightly jumped over the fence into the yard. The boy still goggled at the cat, who towered over him by several hands. The lad and the horse went quietly to the stables as Cailin walked to the front door with his bags over his shoulder. Kuro had decided to go investigate the trees lining the yard.
The common room of the inn was spacious, with several round tables scattered around and a long fireplace dominating one of the walls which was cold this time of the year. The tables were covered with white tablecloths and the chairs looked plush and comfortable. A bar ran down the wall opposite the fireplace, gleaming in the light streaming in from the high windows. A burly man was sitting at the bar, reading a book, with a glass of ale and a pipe smoldering at his elbow. He had short cut dark hair, a bushy beard and bushy eyebrows.
He glanced up at Cailin, a smile rustling out from behind his beard, and he jumped up, snapping his book closed and laying it on the bar. He strode over to Cailin, gripped his hand in greeting and ushered Cailin to a table. Once Cailin was settled, the man introduced himself. “Renn James, is the name. Welcome to the Triple Die Inn, owned and operated by the James family for four generations and counting!”, he proclaimed. His open and easy manner put Cailin at ease.
After he had ordered a glass of ale and a plate of food, the innkeeper sat with him in conversation as Cailin ate. “We get all sorts in here,” Renn said. “Travellers mostly, like yourself. Trappers and mountaineers going north, and when they come back south to sell the fruits of their labor. I know there are a few people that live up there in the mountains and forests, types that prefer solitude for whatever reason”, he waved his hand northward. “We also host traders and businessmen and women from the southern cities, and they bring their own problems.”
Cailin looked up from his food, a slight change of tone in the innkeeper's voice alerting him. “Their own problems?” Cailin fished as he took another bite. “What kind of problems?”
Renn snuck a glance around the deserted common room, then leaned in and lowered his voice. “About a year ago, this fellow showed up at the South Gate, asking admittance to ‘spread the word’, as he put it. Turns out the ‘word’ was just another cult, you know the kind that crops up now and then. At least, that's what we thought…”
Renn scooted a little closer to the table, his chair scraping across the floor. “See, the thing is, this cult has been around ever since. They aren't as numerous as their ‘priest’ might want, but they have grown somewhat in the last several months.” He leaned in, lowering his voice further. “Something is wrong with that one, I tell you. When you look into his eyes, you will understand what I mean….”
Cailin sat quiet, listening to the innkeeper ramble on about this and that, pondering what the man said. There was something in his voice when he spoke of the cult, that told Cailin that Renn was scared of the cult. Very scared. Cailin felt compelled to find out more about this cult, but decided to go hunt up information elsewhere. He finished his meal, stowed his gear in his room, along with his sword, and left the inn on foot.
Several hours later, a footsore and slightly tipsy Cailin returned to the inn. He had spent some time in several inn’s, tavern’s and various other dives of varying repute, and had gathered a lot of information regarding the cult of Hak’Thetu, as he had heard it called. Cailin shivered as he collapsed on his bed in the Triple Die Inn, recalling one particularly nasty little bar by the western gate, called the Empty Tank.
He had made himself comfortable at the bar, ignoring the feeling of knives in his back and struck up a conversation with one of the other patrons, a shifty eyed and grizzled old man with two teeth left and the glaze of zealotry in his eyes. He was a servant of the goddess Hak’Thetu, he claimed, and was high in the upper echelons of the cult. The name of the supposed goddess sent ice crawling up and down Cailin’s spine, but he kept asking questions.
Cailin kept the man’s cup full with the best swill the bar had to offer, barely touching his own. It smelled like a rat had drowned in the barrel his ale had been drawn from. As he got more and more drunk, the old man told Cailin more than enough.
The cult was dedicated to the service of Hak’Thetu, who the old man claimed was a goddess. Based on the description of the rites, which all seemed to center on rape and blood sacrifice, Cailin doubted that the goddess in question was someone who he would like to meet or worship himself. The old man also mentioned regular gatherings at a house of the high born, but passed out before he could tell Cailin who the house belonged to or where it was. He did, however, show Cailin his armband, dark material edged in purple, and said that anyone wearing those colors can be counted on to be one of the “faithful”. The whole affair left a sour taste in Cailin’s mouth.
Brother…. Cailin’s mind was somewhat fuddled with drink, and his call was a little unsteady. Kuro, where are you? Cailin called his companion. But the bond was silent, no response came back. Cailin frowned slightly as he called again, and was left wanting for a response. A drop of worry fell into his thoughts, and he sat up, calling a third time. When his call went unanswered again, Cailin stood up, pulling power into himself to wash away the effects of the drink. A fourth call was sent along the bond but was also met with silence.
Cailin hurriedly dressed in fresh clothes, dark pants and shirt and a light coat, buttoned to his neck, with a black scarf wrapped around his neck. He slipped throwing knives into sheaths on the insides of his boots as well as a long, broad bladed knife that was sheathed in the small of his back, and strapped his blade on tightly, with the pommel rising over his right shoulder.. Once he was dressed, he quietly opened his room’s window, climbed out and dropped to the ground, the thick grass absorbing any sound he made. He glanced left and right, keeping still and waiting for someone to raise the alarm.
When no challenge came, he quietly ran to the trees lining the yard, slipping in between them and disappearing into the shadows. He crouched down, letting a faint glow of magic drip from his fingers like oil, watching it sail like glowing snakes in the dirt, tracing out where Kuro had been earlier in the day. His prints became lit up as the tendrils of magic found and marked them, and Cailin set off in pursuit. He held his hand out, letting the magic pull him onward towards his friend. He sent constant calls down the bond, and was slightly comforted that he knew that his friend was still alive. Had he died the bond would have been broken.
Between the bond and the magic tracking Kuro’s steps, Cailin ran through the streets, following the trail and his sense of Kuro. He followed the trail from the more affluent areas to the poorer side of the city. The buildings began showing signs of neglect, and the gardens became more unkempt. The trail led between two buildings and then suddenly disappeared. Cailin released more and more magic tendrils, some climbing the walls, others flowing along the dirty street he was on. Several minutes passed as he searched, but couldn't find any further signs of Kuro anywhere. He doubled back but the trail never deviated or changed, it always came back to the dead end.
Cailin eventually pulled his magic back into himself, the glowing tendrils flowing back to him, then back into him. He took a deep breath, refusing to let the worry dominate his thoughts. He calmed himself, letting himself feel the bond, and the direction it was coming from. Again, he held out his hand, letting the magic flow from his fingertips to illuminate the bond. A hazy rope of light blue energy sprang to life before him, dipping almost immediately into the ground before him.
Cailin squatted down, brushing at the dirt and dried leaves before him, revealing the edge of what looked like a trap door. He glanced around to make sure no-one was looking at him, then thrust his hands out, a strong burst of air rushing past him and clearing away the dirt covering the trap door. He grabbed the ring, heaving the door up and open, revealing a passage leading down into the earth. Cailin examined the door again. It looked relatively new.
He squatted down, holding his hand out over the hole and letting the magic tracers dribble out from his fingers again. They immediately picked up the trail, skittering away in a broad trail down into the depths of the passage. The trial was easy to read, and Cailins jaw tightened. Kuro was dragged down this passage.
Without a moment's hesitation, Cailin dropped into the passage and set off running, following the glowing trial into the darkness. The passage was a meter wide and about a meter and a half tall when he entered but soon doubled in width and height as he followed the trail. The passage seemed to lead in a single direction, with no twists or turns. Occasional passages merged into the one Cailin was traversing, but the trail went straight on into the dark.
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As he ran, Cailin became aware of a flickering light painting the tunnel walls ahead. He slowed down, then squatted down with his hand pressed flat to the ground. The tendrils of his magic flowed back into him, except for one that slowly spun in a circle, awaiting its masters’ command. With a flick of his finger, Cailin sent the tendril onwards, as he closed his eyes, reaching out through the bond to his friend.
The image that flowed back was hazy, blurred and carried a sense of immense fear and bewilderment. Kuro couldn’t move so much as his head and his body was a raging fire of pain. Cailin pulled himself back from the cat after a reassuring touch to let him know help was coming. The tendril Cailin had left traced its way down the passage, and around a sudden sharp turn into a large open space.
Cailin snuck up to the turn, wrapping his head in his scarf till only his eyes showed. He slowly eased his head around the corner, quickly scanning the area before him.
The cavern was roughly circular, with a raised dais and altar in the centre of the floor. Torches ringed the walls, spitting and hissing, the smoke rising from them hanging at the peak of the cave’s ceiling. The dais and altar looked to be carved from the stone of the cave, and was ringed by seven figures, all in black, hooded robes lined in purple. All had their hoods up and their arms tucked into the opposite sleeves of their robes. One was murmuring, and as Cailin watched, the figure pulled a large, curved knife with a serrated blade from its sleeve, and raised it high above his head.
Kuro lay on the altar, trussed up like a goat for slaughter.
Cailin acted without thinking. One of the knives in his boots seemed to appear in his right hand as he cleared the corner, and as his left boot crashed into the dirt, Cailin threw the knife with as much force as he could muster. As the blade left his fingertips, his next stride put him in the mouth of the cave, hand on the hilt of his blade, already pulling the steel free. Before the knife could hit its target, he had already launched himself into the air towards the dais.
His knife spun through the air, slicing open one of the figures’ cowls before slamming into the head of the knife-wielder, who promptly collapsed like a sack of rotten fruit, the knife tumbling from his hand to the stone floor. The group around the dais stood stunned as Cailin tore into them. The first two were separated from their heads in short order with a single wide slash from Cailin’s blade, a third received a boot heel to the chin as Cailin spun past to gut the fourth figure.
The fifth and sixth figures, however, reacted much faster than their companions, and had drawn short swords from under their robes and had both jumped off the dais and had given themselves and each other room to fight. Cailin stood before the altar, his sword in his right hand hanging by his side. He eyed the two, then slowly drew a long knife from the small of his back with his left hand, which he reversed, laying it along his forearm.
The two had thrown off their robes, and Cailin saw they both were finely dressed, short black coats worn over stark white shirts, tucked into grey pants over soft half boots. The coats had some sort of crest embroidered on the left shoulder, and a badge of rank on the right, vertical lines struck through a triangle. They both handled their weapons with familiarity, and spread out away from each other.
Cailin stepped down from the dais, his sword held to the side. The two men glanced at one another, then both rushed at Cailin. The first flurry of strokes from the two men were met and deflected by the blade and the knife. The pair backed off, glancing at each other. The older of the two, with wide streaks of grey in his flowing swept back hair and beard, motioned to the younger man. The younger man, with long blond hair tied in a tail, rushed Cailin, hoping to distract his left side to allow his companion an opportunity at Cailins right.
Their miscalculation was spectacular. Cailin spun, catching the younger man’s shortsword with his longer blade, easily flicking his blade up into the man’s wrist, shearing through bone and sinew to send it spinning away to clang against the dais. In the same motion he made an underhand throw with the long knife, catching the older man in his right knee, breaking his charge. In moments all sound in the cave were the howls of agony from the two men.
Cailin left them where they were, and turned back to the altar to find the fourth figure, the one he kicked in the head, was back on his feet and held a knife shakily before itself. Cailin glared at the figure until it dropped its knife and took off into the passage. Cailin snorted as he sheathed his blade and got to work untying his companion. When Kuro was free, he turned back to the men writhing on the ground.
Cailin janked the knife out of the older man’s knee, then held it up before the man whose eyes had gone wide with fear. As Cailin stared into his eyes, he drew a small amount of magic and sent it into the blade. In a few moments the blade was glowing red hot, and Cailin stepped over to the younger man, grabbed his stump and seared the wound closed before he bled out.
After he dropped the younger man’s wrist, he turned back and went to squat in front of the older man. The man refused to look at him, so Cailin grabbed a handful of hair and tilted the man’s head back to stare directly into his terrified eyes. “Now then.” His voice made a blizzard seem tropical. “Let's have a quick discussion about what was happening here before I so rudely interrupted you.” Cailin held up the still glowing blade before the man’s face. “You can see the results of my impatience, so I recommend that you not keep me waiting.”
Tears began to stream down the man’s face as he looked at the other man, lying still on the stone behind Cailin. “Your friend will live, I stopped the bleeding. Now talk!” Cailin grabbed the man’s jacket and shook him once. “He’s my son!” the grey bearded man cried. “Look at what you’ve done to my son!” Cailin stood up, pulling the man up with him. “I could have done much worse, and probably will, if you refuse to tell me what I want to know!” Cailin shook him again, more forcefully.
“All right! All right, I’ll tell you everything, just don't hurt my son any more!'' The man collapsed the moment Cailin released him. “This was our initiation into the higher order of Hak’Thetu.” The man stammered as he continued. “It required a blood sacrifice but we couldn’t bring ourselves to sacrifice another human, to commit murder, and then we heard of this massive cat roaming the city, so we captured it and planned to sacrifice it instead!” The man sobbed as he started crawling towards his son.
Cailin watched as the man crawled, disgust and sympathy warring in his heart. He shifted his blade on his back, then turned away from the man who had cradled his unconscious son’s head in his lap.
Gaia…. Cailin’s call was a whisper in the wind. We need your help, Gaia…. He repeated the quiet call twice more before turning back to the pair on the floor before him. He held the still red hot knife, and carefully drew away the magic heating it, until it was cool enough to return to its sheath.
A spot of light appeared before his eyes, revolving and growing larger and larger, filling the cavern with a steady light. Cailin closed his eyes again and stood quietly as Gaia materialized out of the light. Her nose wrinkled when she saw the bodies strewn around the altar. “What did you do?” the sprite asked.
Cailin held up his hand, and replied: “They were about to sacrifice Kuro. I did what I had to do.” He laid his hand on Kuro’s flank, who was still lying on the altar. “They drugged him and I don't know how to get it out of him. Can you help him?” Gaia jumped onto the altar and began stroking Kuros head. A faint light could be seen shining between her palm and his furry head. As she brushed him, Cailin could see the daze fading from Kuro’s eyes, and relief flooded him.
When the giant cat was up, Cailin gave Gaia a hug. “I have one more favor to ask…” he said as he set the sprite down on the cavern floor. Gaia folded her arms across her chest and tapped her foot, with a bemused expression on her little face. Cailin smiled, then motioned to the two men, the elder of which watched the entire scene without making a sound but with eyes like saucers. Kuro spotted him, and a low growl rumbled up from his chest, accompanied by the fur along the ridge of his back standing on end and his tail puffing out. Cailin jumped to get in front of the cat.
“Take them to Hazel, hopefully she can repair the damage to the older one’s knee, and the younger one’s hand. It’s that one over there, the one still holding the sword.” Cailin held his arms out before Kuro, trying to keep the big cat at bay. “And please hurry, this one isn’t a very lovable furball right now.”
Gaia giggled as she flitted over to collect the severed hand, before stuffing it into the older man’s hands and grabbing a hold of both of them. Cailin was having almost no success in holding Kuro back, being steadily pushed back towards the group. Gaia grinned at Kuro, which only infuriated him more, the growls turned to howls and Kuro shoved Cailin out of the way, leaping at the group as a light radiated from Gaia and built up into a visual crescendo before flashing away into nothingness. Kuro landed and spun around, looking for the two men.
When he realized they were gone, he bristled at Cailin, teeth bared and claws out. He slunk over to his friend, butting him so hard in the chest that Cailin sat down heavily on the stone dias. Kuro’s face was directly in front of Cailin’s.
Never stand between me and someone I intend to kill again. Next time I will go through you. The cat’s voice echoed through Cailins mind, and the seriousness brought him pause. Cailin held up his hands, nodding to Kuro. The moment lasted for another few heartbeats before Kuro pressed his head against Cailins chest again.
Thank you for saving my life, my friend… the relief in Kuro’s voice was in stark contrast to his previous tone, where that had been hard and cold to the point of fear on Cailins part, he now spoke with warmth and gratitude. Cailin hugged the cat’s head. Always, my friend. Always.
They left the cave together,and eventually found their way back up to the street. They discussed how Kuro got captured, and how they managed to drug him in order to get him into the chamber. They had dipped several darts with a drug known to render animals and humans unconscious, and used blowguns in the alley to pull him down.
My hind quarters still feel like I sat on a porcupine. The cat complained as they walked into the yard at the Triple Die. Cailin had his scarf around his neck as they walked around to the stables. The horses in the stable nickered nervously as Kuro flowed in from the darkness outside, and found a spot to lie down. Even after all that, I’d like to get some sleep… he sent through a huge yawn that nearly unhinged his jaw.
Cailin smiled and bade the cat good rest as he left to go back to the inn. He entered through the back door, slipped through the darkened kitchen and into the common room, where he found Renn again sitting at the bar, reading his book. The presence of his pipe and a small glass of brandy was not surprising to Cailin. He hailed the innkeeper, and joined him at the bar.
The two shared a long and pleasant conversation over small brandies, punctuated by Renn’s pipe smoke and the occasional clink.
“You have been out and about this night, master Cailin?” Renn asked, gesturing to Cailins boots, which were still covered with dirt and worse from the cavern and adjoining passage. “It would appear that you stepped in something unfavorable…” Cailin glanced down at his boots, then looked at the innkeeper. He was still contemplating what to tell him when the innkeeper waved his concern away. “I know blood when I see it, lad. But I also recognize character, so I believe you had a good reason for the blood on your boots.. I won’t pry as it is none of my business, but I will ask you to leave your boots here when you go to bed, so that they can be clean in the morning.” Cailin caught the slow wink through a cloud of pipesmoke, as he worked his boots off and put them by the bar.
He cleared his throat, then said: “Lets just say that I had a run in with a few fellows who wanted to do something bad to my companion, and we discussed it. Not at length, but we discussed it.” Cailin took a sip of his brandy as he eyed the innkeeper. “Did these fellows wear robes? Dark with purple edging perhaps?” the innkeeper asked around the stem of his pipe. He also took a small sip of his brandy. Cailin scratched the side of his nose. “As a matter of fact, they did.”
Renn nodded and raised his glass to Cailin, and the two clinked glasses before downing their drinks. The pair went their separate ways shortly after, Cailin up to his room while Renn headed to the kitchen with his boots in hand.
The following morning Cailin rose early, went out to the stables and sat with Kuro for a while, discussing their options. Cailin wanted to investigate the cult further, but Kuro was adamant in his desire to leave. The close call with the cultists seemed to have shaken him badly and while Cailin had sympathy with the cat, he also understood that the cultists posed a threat.
After several minutes of back and forth, they finally reached an agreement that Cailin would look into the cultists and Kuro would remain in the inn’s yard, for his own safety. Cailin spent the morning going from seedy dive to run down bar, looking for cultists or those that knew the cultists. Just before noon, he slipped into the dim constriction of another basement dive and made his way up to the bar and ordered a glass of swill.
The barman was an evil looking, one-eyed man with a few teeth left in his maw and grudgingly served the men at his bar but was quick to scoop up their coins. Cailin looked at the glass of murky bathwater the barman plonked down before him, deciding to leave it as is for the sake of his health. He was listening to the general hum of conversation, trying to pick out anything that would give him a lead on the cultists when the door burst open, letting in a breath of fresh air and a little light.
Cailin watched them slither into the bar from the corner of his eye, swirling his glass of muck. He noticed that all three wore thin armbands of dark material edged in purple on their left arms. Well, that’s lucky… he thought to himself as he watched the three men empty a table and take it for themselves. They huddled together and began whispering amongst themselves. It looked to be quite heated.
Drawing on his magic, Cailin sharpened his hearing, filtering out most of the ambient noise and listened in on the conversation. “We have to find him. The priest demands it.” One of the cultists spat. He was a rough looking man, with long dark hair and a scar over one eye, and a few patches of a beard over his jaw. He pointed to one of the others, a small man with a wiry frame and shifty eyes with messy blond hair. “You said you could track him and that damn cat. So where are they?”
The small man took a sip of his beer before replying. “I followed them, Cor. All the way to the Triple Die inn. We have eyes on the place at all times so don't worry. The cat is there right now but our tail lost the man in the city.” Cailin narrowed his eyes as his mind began to race. He was being followed?
The third man,wearing a cloak with the hood pulled up, leaned into the conversation. “Enough. We know where they are. We can take them any time we choose.” He laid his hand on the table, drumming his fingers on the wood. Cailin frowned. The voice sounded familiar. “The slaughter in the caves has left us in a weakened position, especially due to the disappearance of our captain and his son. Have your men found anything out about that, Narem?” The question was directed at the small man.
The man called Narem shifted in his chair, looking awkward. “No, my lord. We have scoured the city but no one has seen or heard from them since last night before the ritual. But judging by the mess in the caves, I think…” He trailed off, looking into his glass of beer as if to divine the answer in the amber liquid. “I believe they are dead, my lord.”
The lord clenched his fist. “Blast… We have to know for sure either way. Find them or their corpses. And keep me informed.” With that he abruptly rose and left the bar, leaving the other two to talk to each other. After listening for a few more minutes, Cailin allowed his magic to fade, his hearing returning to normal. They were not discussing anything he needed to know any longer.
Cailin rubbed his chin as he thought about what he had heard. So, they were military after all. He mused. This cult is bad news. If they had infiltrated the military, then they likely had their fingers on the pulse of the general government of the city. He rose, tossing a few coins on the bar and turned to go. He kept his head down as he made his way outside. While he had no doubt in his mind of facing the two men in the bar, he felt it prudent to not make a scene.
As he stepped outside, he glanced up and down the dirty street, and started walking back to the Triple Die. He noticed almost immediately that a man slunk out from an alley and began following him. The tail had found him. He smiled to himself. Knowing that he had a tail was helpful and he decided he was going to have a bit of fun with the man.
He turned a corner, broke into a run and ducked into a narrow alley, and he could hear the footsteps of the tail following him. The alley had a few piles of garbage and smelled of waste, but Cailin dashed down it until he found a recessed doorway. He ducked into the doorway, and calmed his breathing as he heard the tail come running down the alley after him, the splashes and curses growing louder.
When the tail reached the doorway, Cailins hand shot out, grabbing him by his greasy and matted hair, yanking him into the doorway and slamming his forehead into the door itself. Cailin slipped a leg behind the man, and with a shove, tripped the man and let him land flat on his back in a puddle of filthy, smelly water. He grinned down at the man before stepping on his chest. He leaned down and said, “I don't like being followed, my friend, unless it’s by a woman much more attractive than you. I'd like you to stop, yes?”
The man groaned as Cailin ground his bootheel into his chest. Cailin leaned down further, and slapped the man across his face. “Stop. Following. Me.” Cailin punctuated every word with a little extra pressure on the man's chest. He grabbed Cailin’s ankle trying to twist his foot off but couldn’t shift Cailin’s weight off of his chest. “All right!” He cried as Cailin exerted more pressure.
Cailin eased off, allowing the man to get to his feet. As the man turned to go, Cailin grabbed his shoulder and spun him back around, his fist already streaking towards the tail’s face in a vicious hook. The blow spun the tail around again and he fell face first into a pile of garbage, to lie there still and unmoving. “Sorry, friend. But I don't believe you will. And you already know where I am going.” Cailin eyed the man lying in the trash for a few more moments before walking back up the alley and continuing back to the Triple Die.
When he arrived back at the inn, Kuro was pacing up and down in the stableyard. The wide eyed horses followed his every move very closely. Kuro looked up as Cailin came walking into the yard. We need to talk, they said in union. They stared at each other for a moment, before Cailin waved his hand, letting Kuro speak first. Kuro sat down, his tail swishing in the dust of the yard.
We are being watched. There’s men on either side of the street, and one on the roof of the house behind the inn. Kuro snorted. Not even trying to conceal themselves, and all of them are wearing a purple armband of some sort. The cultists have found us. Cailin nodded as Kuro spoke, then replied. I know. I overheard a few of them chatting in a bara short while ago. They were discussing our dust up in the caverns and made mention of the military they’ve infiltrated. I thought those two in the caves were city watch only. Cailin paused as a thought struck him.
Did we stumble into a coup, do you think? He asked, rubbing his chin as Kuro considered. The massive cat sat quietly for several moments. The tip of his tail threw up puffs of dust as it twitched. Eventually Kuro huffed, and said; Probably. Either that, or just a crazy religious thing. Do you think we should get involved? Cailins brow drew down. For threatening your life alone, I’d wipe them out. But I don't know if this is our business. We have, after all, more important matters to attend to.
Kuro huffed again. I agree. We should find them and destroy them. I remember you telling me what the innkeeper told you. I think this city would be better off without a cult getting their fingers everywhere. Also, I have a hunch that our business is connected to this cult. His tail stilled in the dust. Let us begin. I’ll ask around and see what I can find out. The massive cat flicked his tail again.
Cailin did a double take. How will you ask around? I think anyone would jump out of their skin if a giant cat decides to speak to them? Kuro bared his teeth. Who would I speak to, aside from you, my friend? With that, he stood up, arching his back in a long stretch. Seeing Cailin’s confused look, the giant cat laughed. I speak to cats, dumbdumb. We arent as afraid or hateful of each other as most people think. With that, he turned and ambled back into the dark barn. I suggest you have a chat with your friend, the innkeeper. Maybe he knows something.
Cailin shook his head as he went inside to the common room. Cats. Who would have thought… He mused to himself as he made his way into the common room. Renn was busy polishing glasses behind the bar as Cailin seated himself. Renn looked at the younger man from the corner of his eye, then poured him a small glass of brandy.
“Looks like you have something on your mind, my friend.” Renn had a way of sussing things out from his patrons. Cailin smiled as he took a sip of the rich, dark brandy. “Tell me, innkeeper. Have you heard of any new buildings being built in the area? Or new gathering places?” The two men looked at each other as the innkeeper considered.
Finally he set down the glass he was busy with, poured himself a small brandy and came to sit next to Cailin. He leaned in and lowered his voice, even though the common room was empty save for two men at a table by the door. “Well…” he began, “there's a rumour of a plot of land behind the mayor's residence that's being measured out for some purpose. And strange comings and goings coming from the house itself.Some say there are rumblings from beneath the house, strange lights flashing in the windows and sometimes what sounds like screams can be heard..” Renn sipped his brandy and opened his mouth to continue when the door crashed open.
Three men, one in a hooded robe and the other two in hooded jerkins and plain leggings, stepped into the common room. The one in the middle was of average height, but the hood of his robe left his face in shadow and his features indistinct.The other two threw their hoods back, revealing features like stones given flesh. They were big men, heavy of bone and heavily muscled, and towered over the robed figure. They almost looked like brothers, with one sporting a nose that had obviously been broken more than once, judging by the nasal wheeze when he breathed, and the other with a scar across his right eye, the eye itself being white and milky.
All three wore dark armbands edged in purple.
Cailin suddenly wished he had his sword with him. Things could get very messy very quickly in the common room, and even though he had not seen any weapons, the two brutes carried themselves in a way that said they didn't need weapons to be intimidating. And, Cailin had to admit, at one and a half times his height and double his width, they were doing a good job of intimidation.
The man in the robe sat down at one of the tables while the two brutes flanked him on either side. He motioned to Cailin to join him, pushing out a chair with his foot. Cailin glanced at Renn, then rose and walked over to the table. As he eyed the two men standing on either side of the robed figure, he did a quick mental stocktake of weapons he had with him. He only had his long bladed heavy knife in the small of his back. Well, he thought to himself, it will have to do.
He pulled out the chair across from the robed man, and sat down, trying to appear unfazed and nonchalant. The hooded man nodded, as if he had been expecting this show from Cailin, then reached up to pull his hood back.
It was Revin.
Cailin was aware of his mouth falling open. Revin chuckled as he watched the change in Cailin’s expression. “You seem surprised, Acolyte.” Revin’s voice was as smooth as ever, but he filled the title with so much malice, Cailin was surprised that the tablecloth didn’t catch fire. He goggled for a few moments, before hurriedly collecting himself. “Revin. What is the meaning of this?” Cailin hissed at the sorcerer. “What are you doing here and why are you wearing the colors of the cultists?”, he snapped off the questions.
Revin chuckled again and leaned back in his chair. “Innkeeper! Wine for the table!” he called without breaking eye contact with Cailin. He folded his arms with a smug little smirk on his face, his dark eyes sparkling. When Renn had deposited the wine jug and two glasses on the table, Revin waved him away, his gaze never leaving Cailin. He held out his hand, inviting Cailin to pour for them. After several moments of neither moving, Revin leaned forward, grabbing a glass and pouring for himself. Then he sat back, swirling his wine as he studied the warrior across from him.
Cailin glared at Revin. None of this made sense to him. Revin shouldn't be here, and shouldn't be wearing the cultists colors. "I'll ask again, Revin.", he ground the words out between his teeth. "What are you doing here? And why are you wearing those colors?" He fought the urge to reach over the table and grab the sorcerer and shake him.
Revin laughed. "This?", he asked mockingly, fingering the armband. "It's quite simple, really. I created the cult. I planted it's seeds a long time ago, and it has come to fruition here and elsewhere. And to what end?" Revin sipped his wine, that sly smile on his lips the entire time. He set his glass down, and laid both hands on the table.
"Power. It's all about power, Acolyte." Revin's mouth twisted in what Cailin could only interpret as hate. Hate directed at him. "Power to control, to bend others to your will. The power to dominate the weak.", Revin spat. He leaned back, the hateful visage slipping back into the sly smile. He picked up his glass again, swirling the wine around slowly. “Power you took from me.” His dark eyes glittered in their sockets.
Cailin was taken aback. What power could he possibly have taken from Revin? He was far inferior in terms of magical ability, and had never crossed the sorcerer. “I have no idea what you are talking about, or what this has to do with the cult!” Cailin growled. He slowly pulled wisps of power to him, preparing for what may come.
Revin’s smile slipped off his face as he leaned forward and slammed his glass down. “You know what you did. You stole the power I was meant to wield, power you don't even know you have, the title that should have been mine!”, he bit out. He abruptly closed his eyes and sat back, running his hands down his front. When he opened his eyes again, the sly smile and calm demeanor was back in place. “So, I have decided to seek power elsewhere.” he said softly as he pulled up his sleeve and turned his arm over to show Cailin his mark. He had a diamond shaped mark. But it seemed warped, bent out of shape, the straight lines and rounded corners looking like they've been melted and twisted.
“You see, Acolyte…”, he continued as he picked up his wine and took a sip. “The cultists believe they serve a ‘goddess’, but the truth is much much darker. They get wealth and status, but they give their souls over to my true master.” He arched an eyebrow at Cailin. “Make no mistake, there are many who have learned the truth of the matter and willingly serve me and my Master.” He snorted, “The rest, though, come for the orgy’s and money. But they come, and from them I have collected many servants.” He downed his wine, and poured a fresh glass.
“Revin, what are you talking about? I have taken nothing from you! And I have seen and heard what the upper echelons of your cult do, and it’s evil. How can you be involved in this?” Cailin said tightly. He spread his hands on the table, keeping eye contact with the sorcerer, keeping his attention, as he silently alerted Kuro. Kuro sent back an image of several men in the stableyard, all with armbands.
They came to us, my friend. Kuro's reply was tense. Have they seen you? Cailin asked. Kuro’s response was a snort. Not until I want them to. And by then it will be too late for them. Cailin opened himself to the bond fully, letting him feel where Kuro was and was somewhat surprised to find him on the roof of the inn. He refocused his attention on Revin, who had started talking again.
Revin downed his glass of wine, but did not pour another. He leaned forward on an elbow, raising his finger and pointing at Cailin. “Have you not figured it out yet? I thought you were smarter than this, Cailin.” Revin pressed his finger lightly to the table, and wrote the name of the cult’s deity in fire just above the surface of the cloth.
H A K T H E T U
Cailin looked at the letters as they floated in the air between the two men. He did not understand what Revin was trying to tell him. He had heard the name before but had not had enough time to unravel it yet. Revin chuckled as he waved a hand over the letters, setting them to spinning into a new configuration. Cailin hissed when they settled into the new word.
ATH’TERUK
Cailin clenched his jaw, fury blazing in his eyes as he glared at Revin. The sorcerer threw his head back and laughed at Cailin’s expression. “He understands!” Revin laughed again, waving the word away and he leaned forward on both elbows. He arched an eyebrow at Cailin. “I was promised power, Acolyte. You took that promise away from me when she chose you over me, and I decided to take up another promise in its stead.” Revin sat back and laughed again. “And on this promise I have already collected in part.” He turned his palm up, and a cloud boiled up from it, to spin above his hand. In the sphere of smoke, two glowing green eyes had opened.
Cailin fury warred with his shock. This can’t be true. Revin had betrayed them. The wisps of power he had been drawing to himself suddenly coalesced into a bolt of light, shot directly at Revin’s chest. The sorcerer waved a hand, easily brushing it aside as his other hand shot forward, the cloud of smoke blasting directly into Cailin’s face. He barely got his arms up before the force of the blow knocked him back and out of his chair, sending him rolling across the floor.
The moment the bolt was fired, however, Cailin had begun calling, screaming to Gaia. Gaia!! Help!!, was all he managed before he was sent sprawling. He got his wits about him in time to see Revin heave the table out of the way, sneering as he raised his hand and sent a blast of fire howling towards Cailin.He threw up as strong a shield as he was capable, feeling the flames smash into it. He tried to get his feet under him but the force of the flames battering him kept him down.
He could feel that Kuro had leapt from the roof, landing amid the men in the stableyard and was wreaking havoc. They had not been prepared for the ferocity that the giant cat had unleashed, ripping and tearing with teeth and claws. He could hear the screams over the roar of the flames. The pressure he was holding from him had not lessened one bit, and Cailin was weakening. He could not hold the shield forever.
Abruptly the roar of the flames fell silent and the pressure ceased. Cailin opened one eye, stealing a peek through his crossed arms. Revin was still sneering, but his focus was no longer on Cailin. “Well well well, I am surprised that Cailin would call you to save him.” Cailin kept his shield up but peeked over his shoulder to see who Revin was speaking to.
Behind him stood a middle aged woman, clad in a flowing green dress. Her reddish hair seemed to stir as if in a light wind, the folds of her dress fluttering as well. She held up her right hand, palm up towards Revin. Cailin saw a slight blue nimbus pulsing around her hand. Her eyes were completely white and glowed.
Cailin rolled away from between them, getting his feet under him and moving behind the woman. He had no idea who this was, but she radiated power and strength. Revin sneered at her, holding his hand up with red fire playing over it. Abruptly he unleashed a blast of fire at the woman. She smiled as the fire splashed against her hand. As Cailin watched, the fire seemed to be sucked into her palm and disappeared.
Revin’s sneer never faltered.
“We have not seen you in a very very long time, Rhea.” Revin lowered his hand, the sneer still fixed. He dusted his hands and brushed off the front of his robes, then pulled his hood back up. Rhea lowered her hand as well, the nimbus fading from around her fingers. “When did you come back from all points nowhere? I thought you would stay away forever…” The sneer faded away, replaced by a look of longing as he stared at Rhea.
Rhea tilted her head slightly, her gaze locked on Revin’s. A slight smile played over her lips. “You always reached above your station, Revin. Your hunger for power was never healthy. Gaia was right about you but Kal insisted on seeing the best in you.” She folded her hands. “I, on the other hand, have no illusions about you, Revin. I knew you would fall to the darkness eventually. You are weak. And you always will be.”
Revin’s face broke into a mask of fury as she spoke, Rhea’s words seemingly cutting deep. He clenched his fists, then took a deep breath, seeming to collect himself. As he breathed out he ran his hands down the front of his robe again, and when he opened his eyes, his arrogant smile had returned. “Rhea, Rhea, Rhea… My hunger for power, as you call it, has been sated.” Without warning he flung both hands forward, balls of pitch black darkness erupting from his palms. Cailin fell back, hastily throwing a shield up as the force of Revin’s spell hit him. Rhea simply stood quietly, the balls of darkness disappearing before they touched her. Several missed her, rocketing past to smash into the walls and floor behind her, ripping out chunks of wood from the floor and stone from the walls. Several small fires started and began licking along the floor.
The force of Revin’s spell broke Cailin’s shield like a pane of thin glass and threw him backwards to tumble along the floor. The balls streaked past him, close to hitting him as he jumped up and dove over the bar. He tumbled onto the floor behind the bar, curling up into a ball as the sorcerer’s assault continued. Renn was also behind the bar, moaning as his home was being destroyed. Shattered glass rained down on the two men.
Rhea stood unmoved. The balls still streaked towards her, and disappeared before hitting her. The carnage of Revin’s assault seemed to not faze her at all. She merely stared at Revin until he stopped firing the orbs. She glanced around, seeing the damage Revin had caused, then fixed him with her gaze. She stood still, her hands folded and her breathing even. She arched an eyebrow at him.
“Are you done?” she asked. Revin sneered at her. “Very well. My turn” Revin’s sneer turned into a grimace as Rhea raised her hand, palm facing him. A thump was felt through the common room as Rhea unleashed her power, a ripple flashed out from her, blowing away the stone and wood chips, pushing Revin and his bodyguards backwards in the process. Revin had his arms crossed before his face as the power hammered at him. With a groan, one of the guards collapsed, blood running from his nose and ears.
Rhea stepped forward, focussing her power on Revin, who was being steadily pushed back towards the wall. A high pitched wail swept around the room, pounding at Revin. Rhea could feel him drawing a huge amount of power, and focussed her force further, a large cylinder of rippling energy slamming into Revin. As she watched, he tucked his face into his left elbow, his right hand stiff and straight, pushing into her wave of power driving against him. She took another step forward, keeping the pressure up on the sorcerer in front of her.
A second thump swept the room, and Revin slammed into the wall, his other guard collapsing in the same manner of the first. He still held his right hand up, fingers pointing at Rhea. A flash of darkness jumped from his fingertips, cracking through the space between him and Rhea. The flash struck Rhea in the face, and knocked her back a few steps. Before she could recover, Revin threw a second bolt at her which struck her midriff, doubling Rhea over with a pained gasp. Revin cocked his arms to throw a third, but before he could, Cailin’s knife slammed into his shoulder.
Revin screamed, grabbing the knife sticking out of his shoulder and pulling it out. He dropped the knife and grabbed a hold of his shoulder, blood already running down his arms and staining his robe. His hate-filled gaze found Cailin, standing behind the bar. He screamed again, then spun around and with his uninjured hand, swept a section of the wall. The wall crumbled into a void, and Cailin could feel the void drawing him towards it.
Revin glared at Cailin over his shoulder, the hate etching his face and he spat through his teeth, “This isn't over, Acolyte!” With that, Revin leapt into the portal, the wall it was made on rapidly rebuilding itself from inside the void. Cailin threw a bottle after Revin but it shattered against the now rebuilt wall. He slumped over the bar, his breathing ragged in his ears. Renn still whimpered behind the bar, bemoaning the damage to his inn.
A moment later, he pushed himself upright and staggered around the bar to the woman. Rhea, he said to himself. Her name is Rhea. He heard her groan as she rolled onto her side, trying to push herself up. He dropped to a knee next to her, grabbing her arm and pulling her up with him. He walked her over to the bar, found a stool that was still miraculously whole, set it upright and helped her settle onto it.
Cailin held out his hand to Rhea, who took it after a moment. “Hello, Cailin. As you probably heard, my name is Rhea.” Her voice was shaky and there was blood on the side of her face. Cailin squeezed her hand for a moment, then dropped it. His voice wasn’t much steadier than hers as he replied, “Pleased to meet you, Rhea. And thank you. I am very sure that Revin would have killed me today if it wasn’t for you. I must admit, I have several questions for you. But they can wait.” Blood was running down her scalp, and she had a cut on her cheek as well.
Cailin stepped around the bar, helping Renn up and checking under the bar for something like a medical kit. Renn stared at the carnage in his common room, his mouth hanging open. Cailin couldn’t find what he was looking for and had to ask Renn three times before the innkeeper responded and directed him into the kitchen. Cailin retrieved the bag and set about cleaning Rhea’s face and winding a bandage around the cut on her scalp that had been bleeding.
When he had seen to his own scrapes, he took Rhea and headed for one of the tables in the corner that survived the wanton destruction metered out by Revin. He got her settled and went back to the bar to get her a cup of wine, most of the glasses had shattered, and a mug of water for himself from the kitchen. By the time he had settled down, Renn had shaken off his shock and had gotten the serving girls that were coming in for the evening to start sweeping up all the wood and stone chips and righting as many tables as possible. He himself was working to get the bar back in order, and had carried in a bin from the kitchen to throw away the broken glass and other debris.
Cailin turned back to Rhea, and took a deep breath. “Ok”, he said. “Where would you like to begin?” Rhea smiled a small smile, and began explaining.