“The unwelcome November rain had perversely stolen the day's last hour and pawned it with that ancient fence, the night.”
- F. Scott Fitzgerald, This Side of Paradise
Lieseleta threw the door closed and pressed against the old wood while hugging herself. Outside she heard Jera step closer and more sensed, then felt her lay her hand on the other side of the door. “Prin...Queen! Please open the door! I have not had time to check the room!” Her voice sounded urgent.
“Knight Jera, step aside.” Another voice sounded- Heloise. “Open the door, niece.”
A shudder went through her body as she recalled the line of people descending into the darkness, the strange being held by shadowy tendrils watching over them. The blind eyes. The immense presence she had sensed just out of sight, each of its movements like the shifting of a mountain.
“Open the door, Liese.”
She drew a shuddering breath and, with a sob, turned and pulled back the heavy bolt holding the reinforced door closed.
With quiet steps, Heloise entered the tower room. Flickering fires illuminated a high ceiling made of old oaken beams darkened by age and smoke from the large open fireplace, shining on a floor made of closely fitted planks covered by an old but ornate carpet in the colors of Margrinar, green, and gold. The windows were closed and fitted with bubbly panes of glass just clear enough to get a sense of height and impressions of a forest.
A bed, table, and several chairs stood to one side, a harp on a pedestal with a cushioned stool on the other. Several old tomes gathered dust on a stone shelf above the bed.
“We have to talk.” Golden eyes fixed on her own, and she blinked rapidly before nodding once. “I am sorry.” Heloise sighed and looked uncomfortable. “I did not think it would affect you like this.”
Lieseleta shook her head and clenched her hands in her shirt. “We sacrificed three score men and women to a…I don’t even know what it is that took them. And then it drank my blood. And I felt its regard, and it was like drowning in ice.”
Heloise gazed at her quietly and grabbed a decanter holding some red wine. “Drink, and I will answer any question you might have.” As the queen hesitated, a cup was pressed into her hand, and golden eyes narrowed, “Drink.”
Lieseleta gripped the goblet with whitened knuckles and raised her head. “Why?”
Heloise calmly strode across the room, looking outside into the fading light. “Margrinar was founded shortly after the cataclysm. The first king drew deep upon the ley lines and erected the castle, and founded the academy. They shifted the veins of the planet and borrowed earthblood to power their workings. And one of those old, nearly-divine beings woke. There was a demonstration of might and then a long negotiation. The old one was rational in his demands, and the old kings ruthless. The pact was made and sealed in the blood of the royal family.”
Heloise looked a bit uncomfortable, and her fingers touched the glass of a window drawing a line in the condensation. “We cannot break the pact, and it is not as if we had not reaped the benefits over the centuries. We can freely use the massive power of the ley lines to empower our magicians, and more children are born with the gift than we had any right to expect. If the pact is broken...the nation will suffer. When we first woke the Puppeteer, as it has been called, it extinguished the will of a thousand. They walked willingly into the depth, and no one could stop them. Those who tried had to join. It is unknown if our greatest could have done something, made a difference. They did not try.” She swallowed dryly and lowered her head.
“What did you trade for in addition to this.” Lieseleta drank the wine putting the glass on the table with a slight tremor in her hand.
“Aid and protection for you. You are much too inexperienced, and you don’t have the necessary connections or personal power. I can only do so much. If you are assassinated, the crown would fall to your sister, and that would be disastrous in the present circumstances.”
“Why not make you the queen? You seem to manage well enough.” A faint bitterness accompanied the words.
“For one there are documents proclaiming the late king's will. And I am not a part of the succession he envisioned. Second, my power, the power of life, renders me barren. Ironically enough, it is too much to bear for a child. It has been known for a long time that those blessed with the golden eyes can only give life to others and have no ability to bring forth life themselves. Queens are a relatively new phenomenon, and much is without precedent, but the stigma of the golden eye is enough to preclude my right to rule. One reason perhaps I am still alive. My brother was jealous of his right to rule and did not suffer others with pretensions to ‘his’ seat.” She sighed, “But perhaps I’m wrong about that. My little brother's death was deemed an accidental void-poisoning when a ritual went horribly wrong. I always wondered…” She shook her head. “Does that answer some of your questions?”
“It does, and it does not. I know we are not as desperate as those who made the pact, and even then, I cannot think it but a travesty. We sell our own to a monster for power.”
“And that is why you were not considered a suitable choice besides your gender. Your brother- your brothers would not have hesitated. No one forced those men and women to commit horrible crimes that got them condemned to the Hall of Penance. Those were murderers, rapists, arsonists, and poisoners. People that had denied the rights of others, many others to a peaceful and productive life. They pay for their sins, and everyone profits.”
“I simply cannot see it this way. But I will not do anything reckless. Breaking the pact at this point would be beyond foolish. How long till the next tribute is due?”
“Ten years to the day. It accepts delays but enforces punishment. You don’t want that to happen. Madness, plaque, and misfortune are its favorite tools.”
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“The drowning plaque!”
“That is one example, yes.”
“My father did not pay?” Lieseleta looked incredulous.
“He did. But he wanted more and was unwilling to pay the full price. They do not only request people. Whatever they wanted, he did not accept. What happened between them is unknown to me, but the being punished humanity for it.”
“I hear Rivenlorn was hit hard.”
“Yes. It does not distinguish between nations; borders mean nothing to it.”
“So they paid for my father's wish.”
“You can see it that way.”
“Ten years. Make sure you are ready. The debt. It will be paid, one way or another.”
The wall on the right of Lieseleta began to distort, and with a tearing sound as if flesh was being ripped asunder, a jagged portal opened. Dank and stale air blasted into the room, making the flames in the hearth dance wildly.
The queen jumped to her feet and then struggled to stand firmly, the alcohol she had hastily drunk making her reflexes dull and her legs unsteady.
A pale white hand steadied her, and a face with skin like parchment tightly drawn over an emaciated-looking frame tried for a smile.
“My queen. This one is sent to serve.”
And dark shadowy tentacles reached out of the portal, vanishing beneath the hooded robes, visible for but a moment before portal and tendrils faded into nothingness.
The robe undulated with an unseen breeze...or the touch of countless tendrils.
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Back with Alyssa and her friends
Calvin scanned the darkness beyond the firelight. The woods at night were pitch black even with starlight helping a bit he could not be sure of anything.
“How are the students?” Calvin asked without turning.
“Not good. Several were wounded, some by their own. They don’t have much combat experience, but some of them are quite proficient in lethal magic a problematic combination. And then there are the missing or dead friends, undead all around, bad weather…” A balding, middle-aged man listed quietly.
“Sebastian. Not good is very relative- Do we have to do anything about it? Something we could do?”
The middle-aged man called Sebastian shrugged, “They will have to adapt. Can’t say I’m too thrilled about it too. What worries me are those strange undead. Raising anything dead in their surroundings is horrifying if you think about it. I hope it won’t get as bad as I think it will.”
“Keep an eye out. I will make my rounds and see if someone needs help.”
Sebastian looked faintly relieved. “Good idea. I will keep watch.”
Calvin grimaced. His fellow teacher had never been able to deal with people. If it were some obscure alchemical formula or magical theorem...but students?
Strolling through the camp, he saw subdued students making conversation or tending to their wounds. Some greeted him, but most were preparing to sleep or absentmindedly ignored his presence. At the edge of the camping ground sat Alyssa and Mireille, the two troublemakers. Calvin sighed, remembering his discussions with Illimen.
It seemed the old grouch had been right as far as it went, but he was uneasy about the extensive changes to the frail-looking white-haired void mage. She was not yet twenty years of age but would probably be some kind of undead or other before too long. He was not a religious person, and Jaros was the only god he wholeheartedly accepted, but this was a bit much even for him.
The fiery redhead was another problem. They did not usually take branded into the academy, and with good reason. They would not be able to accomplish and learn much. Perhaps a military or even a mundane academic institution would be better for her development, but because of her high affinities and the unusual brand, she carried, it was decided to keep her- for observation. Meaning it was not for her but for the academy’s benefit. That irked him as a teacher. But she seemed to have fit in better than could reasonably be hoped for.
Mireille was playing with Cyrus, the small wyvern familiar, even though truth be told, the dracoling was no longer ‘small’ actually. Alyssa was poking the dying fire and fed some more wood into the blaze while Vivienne- another troublemaker- was talking to her. He had his eye on her since learning of her affiliation. Yrgos was bad news.
His steps took him past the watchfires and back to his tent. Gina and Kira sat together, talking to a tall student, with the latter being cautious and the former flirting openly. He shook his head in amusement.
Raising his head, he gauged the time by the rising of the lost eye. It was some time until the end of his watch. Grinning wryly, he continued on his way.
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Vanessa followed the skittering shadows and blessed her preternatural vision granted by spell and species. Lightly skipping beneath the snowed-in trees she hardly touched the ground for dozens of meters, slightly adjusting her journey with a touch on a tree or branch here and there. Going over the treetops would have been her preference, but she was tracking someone and so had to take the road they took.
Soon she came upon a feasting trio of undead ripping into the body of a large boar. Blood and flesh dripped through skeletal jaws and fell to the ground, but her arcane vision saw the fading natural energies being absorbed into the creatures.
Gritting her teeth in irritation she hesitated, then gestured, and the shadelings sprung into the trees blue glowing pupils fixating on her. Calling the familiar black ice claws, she sprung forward and cut the nearest undead from behind, splintering neck and spine before ripping the right shoulder from the torso. The other two turned, snarling silently for lack of vocal cords, but two hands found two heads and, with a bit of effort, managed to decapitate them, skulls whirling into the night.
“Not very strong. Are you?” She shook a bit of decayed flesh from her claws, then stilled. As she looked closer, she could see the two she had merely ‘damaged’ were still active with necrotic energy. If she had not known, she would have left them, and they could perhaps reassemble in a few day's time. Troublesome. She hacked a few times into the lifeless bodies before the energies dissipated enough for her to be sure of their final demise. And then the boar began to twitch.
“For Charis sake.” She grimaced and plunged both hands into the carcass before ripping to both sides, splitting flesh and bone. Focusing, she saw the blossoming darkness dissipate.
‘How in the hells. I must make haste.’ She gestured, and with a light chitter, the shadelings resumed their hunt.
Traveling through the forest, she gazed up at the heavens and saw it to be after midnight. Soon she would have to care about a shelter for the day. Pushing forward, she found a logger's cabin, thankfully still relatively intact, and entered only to be met with the sour smell of old sweat. But that was the only memento those loggers had left as they traveled to their homes for the winter. Wrinkling her nose, she incanted several spells, whitish glyphs shining in the air before several dust devils blew dust and dirt out of the cabin.
The roof shook, and several planks groaned alarmingly. She stopped the spell and inspected her handiwork. It would have to do.
Sleeping beneath the ruins of an old table, she heard the chitter of her shadelings through the long white hours of the day. When evening fell, she cleaned herself with magic even as it was no longer as necessary as when she had been alive. Vanessa shrugged, looked at a particularly adventurous shadeling, and grinned, exposing lengthened canines. The small creature ducked and skittered backward still lowered to the ground.
Laughing, she gestured the shadelings, and soon the hunt resumed.