PART V - ALLIES

Callie grinned up at Xin as they walked together back to Ogre House, with Tazrok, Lena, Pixyl, and Jesca walking in the group as well. “But at least you managed to get into the air! That’s a really good first try!”

Xin rubbed her upper arm, and glared down at the little Gnome. The Lizardkin was generally so unemotional, so even that look was a little out of character. “I failed immensely and broke my wing. That was not a good first try.”

“Hey, I dug a hole in the ground with my face on my own first attempt,” Lena pointed out. “Flying is hard!”

“And I panicked and got stuck in my Drakeling form for almost half an hour,” Jesca sighed. “I didn’t even get off the ground.” She had recalled both Artemis and Iris, putting them into timeout because they wouldn’t stop laughing at her.

“Flying not hard,” Tazrok said confidently. “Just miss ground. Then never crash.”

The three new fliers stopped, bringing the rest of the group to a halt as each of them glared up at the big Ogre. “Miss the ground? That’s not helpful at all, you big goof!” Lena scowled.

“What?” Tazrok said with a shrug. “Just throw self at ground and miss, then you flying.” Then, as if to demonstrate, he hopped into the air, changing into his winged kitty form. It had actually grown a bit bigger with his new Silver tier, and Tazrok casually flew in a loop before wibbling back into Ogre form. “See?”

Pixyl giggled, trying to keep from cracking up. “You should see your f-f-faces.”

“You shut up, too,” Lena growled, but with a bit of a laugh in it as well. “Flying is hard, no matter what the two of you say. But, I’m going to figure it out, and I’m sure these two will as well.” There was a long pause, and Lena added, “Eventually.”

“I’ll see you all in the showers?” Jesca asked, changing the subject as she looked across the area towards her own bunkhouse. “We are supposed to be extra clean for the visitors, and we do stink a little. Maybe ten minutes?”

“Sure. We’ll see you then,” Lena nodded. “That steaming-hot bath might actually feel good for a little while, especially for you, Xin, given your arm.”

Jesca gave everyone a wave, and set off across the garden, while the rest of Ogre House headed for their own door. Between all the flying adventures and the start of the holiday, the mood was light, almost jovial even, the news about the King Regents pushed aside for the moment in favor of an eagerness to get out of their armor and clean up before dinner.

Tazrok opened the large door, but Callie was the first inside, Pixyl scampering in right behind her.

“Holy …” Callie started to say as she stumbled to a stop, her voice simply trailing off as Pixyl bumped into her. Everything was a complete mess, as if a tornado had gone through the cabin. Vanis’s footlocker had been overturned, contents thrown around. His wooden armor stand had been knocked to the floor and cracked into pieces, armor sent skittering. Against the rear wall were a half dozen light patches of blood that looked dried or close to it, and another was centered on the deeply-dented polished mirror. Finally, Vanis’s bunk had been flipped, and was now lying on its side, the heavy mattress thrown across the room and lying awkwardly balanced between Callie’s bunk and the blanket fort.

“What happened?” Callie said, asking the general question everyone was asking as she started to try to find a path through the mess.

“Vanis?” Lena called out, pushing everyone aside as she charged ahead while trying to dodge her way through the debris. Then she saw him on the floor behind the overturned bunk. “Vanis!” she called again, added panic in her tone, rushing to him.

The Warlock was just … sitting there, his head drooping forward. He was wearing only his underwear and a pair of socks, one of which was quite bloody. His slightly blood-covered shirt had been torn off and tossed aside in tatters. His hands were a mess, knuckles ripped and purple, also covered in mostly-dried blood. Lena dropped down on one knee, and started lightly slapping Vanis’s face. It only took a couple smacks and his head jerked up, as if just woken. “Huh? What?” he asked confusedly. Then he made a sucking sound as pain hit him.

“Xin! Get in here! He’s hurt.” Lena snapped, making a hand motion and then quickly moving to the other side so the Shaman could get to Vanis. There wasn’t enough space for Tazrok to get close, so he took a spot towering above, deferring to the other Healer. Xin charged through, knocking Pixyl into Callie again due to the tight space. “Where does it hurt?” Lena asked.

“My hands mostly,” Vanis hissed, “and my foot, my head, and probably several other things.”

The Lizardkin’s hand began to glow as she dropped into place, casting her Diagnose spell, working to quickly but carefully take an inventory of the injuries. “Small bump on the head, but no sign of concussion,” she began, calling out the examination as taught. “Not bad, but you may have a headache. Bruises, some scrapes. You have broken both hands, but not too seriously for my skills; no bones misaligned on this one, just two slightly cracked. The other is quite injured, with several clean fractures.” She continued, moving down each of Vanis’s legs, frowning at one of his feet. “You have broken two toes on your right foot.” Xin considered carefully, and then pressed her clawed hand to the Elf’s neck, pushing her new Suppress Pain spell, which numbed feeling below that point.

Instantly, Vanis relaxed as nearly all the pain he was feeling vanished, only the painful lump on the back of his head still hurting. “Oh, thank you, Xin! That helps tremendously.”

“I don’t think that will last long. I am still learning the spell,” Xin warned. She set to work, first calling up a Totem out of the way on the other side of the room and pushing out a general Healing Pulse. It would help with the remaining head pain a little, and address the several cuts and scrapes.

The obvious first question to ask was to find out what happened, but there really wasn’t a need to. This was obviously all the result of rage. Pure, unfiltered, and very un-Vanis-like rage. The blood marks on the wall and mirror would no doubt align perfectly with the bloody and broken knuckles that Xin was now examining more closely. Vanis must have lost it, and then … what … passed out from the pain or the clonk on his head? Or maybe he just fell asleep from exhaustion once the adrenaline wore off. He’d been handling the news regarding his grandparents so well all week, and he must have finally snapped. In a way, it was completely understandable.

Since Tazrok couldn’t be of any help due to the cramped space, he climbed onto his bed, sitting cross-legged on it and waiting, on the chance he was needed. The tight space also left Lena trapped against Vanis and the small table under the mirror, so she simply sat, pulled her legs up, and scooted close enough to touch the Warlock in an effort to try and be comforting. She put a hand on his arm in support while wearing a worried look, glancing around at all the mess.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Callie and Pixyl started to collect up the strewn contents of the footlocker, but stopped after Tazrok gestured for them to hold off for the moment. Xin needed to focus and Vanis needed to regain his own wits first. Instead, they took a seat on Callie’s own footlocker and observed, while the Shaman concentrated on the Warlock’s hand. There was a magic tingleness in the air as Xin’s slow, careful repair spell worked to undo the hand damage that the back wall must have done. Vanis winced a couple times as occasionally the healing’s effects sneaked past the pain block, but in his defense he didn’t make a single sound beyond the sharp intakes of air. Nobody said anything; no questions were asked. They could come later.

Xin focused, the rest silently observing. It was slow going, because joints were delicate work in general, and hands and feet were even more delicate than knees. The combination of an audience and doing it herself, without trainer oversight, made Xin nervous, but you’d never know it from looking at her, the Lizardkin back to her usual unemotionally-focused. After a bit, Xin moved to the other hand while Vanis flexed his fingers on the first. They seemed a little stiff, but there was still some minor swelling and purple bruising, so that was understandable.

About fifteen minutes after arriving, there was a light knock on the front door. It had been left slightly ajar in the chaos of arrival, and Jesca, wearing only her robe, poked her head in. Evidently she became tired of waiting at the showers for everyone else and had come to see what the delay was. She gasped at the chaos, and was about to understandably say something before she caught Tazrok’s face, where he was holding his huge finger to his lips. He made a second motion, indicating to enter and close the door fully.

“What happened?” she whispered to Callie and Pixyl as she edged close, now having a better view of the near-naked and bloody Vanis.

“Not sure,” Pixyl replied, shrugging. While it was, in fact, obvious what had happened, the real question was ‘why’.

Xin had finished with the other hand. “Work both of those,” she ordered, “it will help with the stiffness. I will address your foot next.” Carefully, she removed Vanis’s socks, On closer observation the right toe was still slightly bleeding, and the Lizardkin made a hissing intake of air seeing the red and purple mess. “This is quite injured. It appears a claw has mostly broken away. It will grow back fully in time. The breaks are otherwise simple. You may be uncomfortable for a day or two, so it is good it is Midsummer now. Try not to move.”

“Claw?” Callie asked, and then understood. “Ouch! That’ll suck for a while.”

“Do you want me to call up Artemis?” Jesca asked. “She can heal with her horn.”

Xin shook her head, not looking up. “I need practice,” she said. “Maybe when I’m done to address any bruises.” Pushing another focused Suppress Pain, this time into the foot, Xin peeled most of the barely-attached nail off the second toe, which started a little more blood flowing. Lena gestured towards Tazrok, pantomimed something and pointed towards the Ogre latrine room. He got the message, and quickly returned with a handful of fresh hand-towels. Xin’s magic quickly stopped the bleeding before it got too messy, then she concentrated on the repairs to the bones and tissues.

“They’re coming for my sister,” Vanis said quietly, his first significant words since waking, simply staring at some far off nothing. “They are coming for my father and for my sister, and there’s nothing I can do about it.” He looked up and around, catching the eyes of his friends. “I feel so … impotent. It should be me they’re targeting, not her. She’s only eight! Nine, that is. Her birthday was last week.”

Callie and Lena understood immediately what he was talking about, but for the others, they had just learned of the deaths of the King Regents today, and didn’t know anything about the larger issues and the suspicious causes. There was understandable confusion on many faces.

“What mean?” Tazrok said, his voice low and quiet.

Vanis seemed to suddenly realize what he’d said, and that it had been out loud. He looked at Lena and then Callie, both of whom returned a small nod.

“You can tell them,” Callie said quietly. She looked around, catching everyone’s eyes. “This stays here, okay? It absolutely cannot leave this room. This is important.” She continued her focus until she’d gotten a confirming nod from each of them.

With a deep sigh, Vanis told them; he told them everything. Each of them, except Jesca, knew about how he’d received the Curse, and it was well known across the land about how he’d been disqualified from being the heir apparent. But upon hearing that the King Regents were likely murdered, the tone inside Ogre House turned dark and angry. In Pixyl’s case, she was absolutely livid, her years of her family’s Royal-watching seizing hold and making it personal. Immediately she called for an all out attack on Cillisant, suggesting they all start with Arkan Pelidri, before Vanis calmed her by explaining the closeness of the relationship between his family and Queen Nemina.

“I had just wanted a moment to grieve in private,” Vanis finally said with a deep sigh, still staring into nothing while Xin finished up. “I couldn’t. Instead my mind became unbelievably angry. I worry for my father and mother, and for my sister, the new heir. If someone will kill the King Regents, then they certainly could get to her if they wished. Apparently I took all that anger out on myself.” He looked down at one of his hands, seeing the dried blood, then back to the group of people around him. “If I ever find out who is behind this, they are unlikely to live to see a new morning.”

“What are we going t-t-to do now?” Pixyl asked, her mood still sour.

Vanis looked up at the Pixie from his spot on the floor. “Nothing. That is what I’ve been ordered to do. Continue training. Fulfill my duties.” His voice got angry again. “I should be back in Imor leading the investigation. I should be … doing something … anything. I should not be off playing soldier somewhere.” He looked over at Callie, giving just the tiniest hint of a smile. “Besides, I’ve already shown I’m not very competent at that duty.”

Xin finished her tending, now using the towels dipped in a bowl of Tazrok-summoned water to clean up. Questions and ideas were lobbed at Vanis, things that Callie had gone through immediately after hearing the whole truth as well, everyone wanting to be helpful. Vanis was right, though. In the end, there wasn’t much that they could do to help from here, and he had his orders to continue with the status quo. It was aggravating, especially for Pixyl. Instinctively, she was a ‘see a problem, attack the problem, end the problem’ type of person, and this was a problem that needed to be attacked and ended before King Feldwin or Princess Alena were hurt.

Out of his daze and with his injuries mended, Jesca had Artemis lend a horn to take care of the bruises and swelling. As they all talked, Vanis pushed harder for everyone to stay the course. The spymaster was looking into everything, and he was getting occasional ciphered updates via the Scryer Network. He didn’t like the idea of his problems distracting his friends at a time when they needed to be focused for what was to come. It wasn’t their concern.

Truthfully, nobody cared about what Vanis wanted. Completely ignoring his requests, Jesca said flatly, “We need a plan.”

“Jesca, please,” Vanis pleaded. “The appropriate people are doing what needs to be done.”

“If it wasn’t for this damn war, we could all g-g-go back to Imor and knock some heads until we find answers,” Pixyl growled, also ignoring Vanis.

“Then the solution is easy,” Tazrok said, his deep voice sounding almost soothing as a sense of strange presence suddenly filled the room. “We must simply end the war as quickly as possible, in order to return and secure the throne.” He looked down at the still-seated prince. “You and your family have long proven yourselves to be honorable, Your Majesty. Should you ever have the need, the Ogres of Imoria will be by your side. This, we have decided.”

The utter and confused silence that followed was broken only by the distant sound of the thirty-minute dinner bell warning. The room stared at their gigantic friend, trying to fully take in Tazrok’s unstilted statement that somehow seemed … not only bigger than him, but also absolutely and undeniably true. Who was ‘we’ and why was he once again speaking normally, even elegantly? After a few moments, his overwhelming magical presence seemed to drain away, leaving behind a simple sense of certainty. For his part, Tazrok made a wincing face, put a hand on his forehead and mumbled something to himself.

The others didn’t make out the Ogre’s words, but Callie and Jesca did, and they shot each other a look of confusion, concern, and curiosity. ‘Stop doing that!’ was what their friend had said.