Move with the breathing wind
Move when the branches creak and when the leaves whistle
Move when the crickets chirp and the owls hoot
Counted strides like the notes on an ivory flute,
hushed comes death at night, wearing a slayer’s suit
Following a spider’s route.
-
Dar Nalta,
Verbal Silent Servant’s Magna Codex of the Circle,
Unknown date
-
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Ralnor
‘Larn’
Dar Eherdir
Fae O' Elum
Training Day
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“Where is it?” Aelrindel complained and stopped her horse frustrated. She grew a shadow that a white boulder cast on the desert sands and used it to shade herself. “My beautiful toes are sweating,” she declared and Rhys who made an effort to stay near the sorceress offered in a serious voice.
“I can have them wiped for you milady.”
“Goddess,” Lithoniela gasped in frustration.
“Yes?” Aelrindel replied casually.
“Just stop it, this is ridiculous!” The princess snapped the heat getting to her as well.
“I’m not doing anything dear,” Aelrindel replied.
“You haven’t stopped!”
“Why do they argue?” Toutatis asked him curious. “They are usually friendly.”
Ralnor stared at the boy with his grey eyes and then smacked his lips, before attempting to block the two Elderbloods voices out of his mind.
He failed.
“Well?” Toutatis asked, his partially maimed face tanning unequally and making the scarred tissue there more prominent.
“Female friendships are like that. Caruso is fond of Lithoniela and the sorceress makes sure Rhys remains beholden to her.”
“Why?”
“Some things are difficult to answer,” Ralnor replied. “That’s enough talk.”
“There’s nothing more to do here,” Toutatis argued.
“Remember that grave near the rocks?” Ralnor turned on the saddle to check on the two females.
“The Legionnaire?”
“Uhm,” Ralnor replied.
“What of it?”
“I had him killed in Rida,” he replied narrowing his eyes as something on the dunes ahead of them didn’t seem natural. “Found his body in the desert.”
“Ralnor I want to stop,” Aelrindel protested. “The sun is up already.”
“Not fully,” he retorted with a glare.
“Yeah I’m stopping here. These rocks are as good as we will get,” she decided.
“FUCK!” Melon cried out as she almost tossed him off the saddle in her attempt to climb down her horse. “Watch the arse pillow tits!”
“There are ruins two hundred meters ahead of us,” Ralnor said tiredly. “Get back on that saddle sorceress.”
“No,” Aelrindel responded and placed her hands on her hips to glare at him. “I won’t.”
“That’s Lebesos,” he explained with a sigh and wiped the sweat from his forehead. “That means there are springs over that dune.”
The sorceress pursed her plump lips, whilst lifting first one leg and then the other, as the hot sand was burning her feet through the thin soles of her sandals.
She had discarded a pair of boots as impractical, an opinion no one else held, but had decided not to argue. Ralnor had gathered her boots and placed them in his saddle bags just in case Aelrindel changed her mind. No shoemakers at the near.
“Rhys,” Ralnor grunted. “Help her up on the saddle,” he ordered him and Lithoniela scoffed not believing her ears. She rode next to him and pouted.
“She’s doing it on purpose.”
“Princess,” Ralnor replied raspingly. “I know her for a long time. She always does it when other females are around, but unwittingly for the most part. It’s not your fault. She hates competition.”
“Hmm,” Lithoniela murmured and rode towards the dune. Caruso followed her after a couple of moments.
“Ael should get all the attention,” Toutatis decided. The sorceress biggest fan. “You know it better than anyone else.”
Ralnor watched her chuckling at Rhys’ hands on attempts to make sure she was well placed on the saddle, until Melon jumped on him and slapped him repeatedly with both his paws on the face. Calling him a long litany of colorful names.
“Aye I do,” Ralnor replied and Aelrindel turned to look their way, a pleased smile on her face as she was probably listening in shamelessly. “We might need your magic,” he whispered to the alluring sorceress. She nodded hearing him despite standing well away and Melon’s cursing that had created a pandemonium.
Never change, he thought and Toutatis nodded with his head in turn, as if he could hear Ralnor too.
Which was ludicrous.
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Ralnor walked past the first half-buried ruins, the sides of the ancient houses sporting dark chasms in them hence golden sand poured out. Some parts were sticking out more, the rooftops and even balconies, others he could only see a partial outline on the ground.
“There’s the green of the springs,” Lithoniela announced and jumped from her mount to approach the muddy soil of the old oasis near the base of the slopes. “Not much water here,” she commented standing under the shade of a weather-beaten palm tree.
“The desert shifts with the winds,” Ralnor explained walking towards her, with Toutatis following after him. “The city is never the same.”
“We dig here,” Caruso offered. “Reveal more of the water. It is still coming out.”
“Cast a wind,” Ralnor told the sorceress, who was still standing on her horse. “Clear us a part.”
“You want to unearth the city?” she complained. “Push the desert back?”
“Something less evasive,” Ralnor grunted. “Was what I had in mind?”
“He has dirty thoughts too,” Aelrindel revealed to Lithoniela. “But hides them under sneaky wording and tasks.”
“Ha-ha!” Melon guffawed and walked near a muddy pool to sniff it. “Busted fuck-face!”
“I could kill the cat,” Rhys offered, his skin a darker shade of gold after all this time in the desert. “Just say the word.”
“She won’t like it,” Ralnor reminded him and the assassin frowned.
“I won’t kill the cat,” he decided. “For I don’t want to mess up my chances.”
“Rhys,” Ralnor rustled tiredly while Aelrindel rode next to the remnants of the flora to find stuff to use for a spell. “The time to fool around with her was centuries ago. At her age and needs, she’s a lethal companion.”
The assassin showed him his enlarged gold incisors. “I have the teeth for it.”
“No,” Ralnor replied. “You don’t.”
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The wind came abruptly. Many small columns of spinning vortexes that grew gathering sand and material. Dry leaves, broken branches, ancient pieces of furniture and even small rocks. It blasted out moments later starting near the springs and ravaged the ancient walls and houses. Whipped past the hidden streets, blowing the desert away down to their worn out marble tiles. A neighborhood appeared, then the next. Part of the outer walls, a still standing tower, the last floor missing.
Remnants of ancient gardens and yards. Parts or even full elaborate statues of the people that had lived there at one point in time still adorning their dried up ancient flower beds. Skeletons. Pieces of them. A skull here, a femur bone there. The part of a caved in torso. Human-like and several that they were not.
“STOP!” Ralnor barked at the sorceress and she glanced at him frustrated. “Stop the spell!” He growled running towards her, as they had hidden themselves away from the epicenter to avoid getting swept away as well.
“I don’t control it,” she yelled back at him, white and blue hair blowing wild over her flushed tanned face.
“What?”
“It’ll blow away towards the desert don’t worry,” Aelrindel assured him and breathed out tired. “Look! Water is coming out with force now!”
“Where will the typhoon go?”
“It’ll be miles away afore the evening. Then it shall cease on its own,” she explained and started discarding her robes quickly. Then got rid of her skirt tossing it in a dry spot and walked inside the shallow but rising central pool of water. There the sorceress removed her last piece of clothing and hurled it at the silent assassin.
Ralnor caught the drenched undergarment with a hand before it smacked him in the face and Aelrindel chuckled mischievously at his expression.
“In ten minutes child of the streets, I’ll be under the water,” she purred. “Away from your lustful eyes,” the sorceress added theatrically dragging her voice using a hunter’s echoing spell.
“There are Arachne inside the city,” Ralnor murmured his eyes on her divine figure.
“Don’t be silly. How did they come here?”
“I don’t know. But they did,” Ralnor growled and turned around. He grabbed a giant mandible Toutatis was carrying on his shoulder and tossed it next to her naked thighs. The water was rising fast. Aelrindel flinched and stepped back. Everything moving about as she splashed inside the pool.
“Wow,” Toutatis commented fully engrossed at the sight with Lithoniela sighing.
“I want to enjoy this too but without an audience,” she griped. “Ralnor you don’t know these aren’t old trophies eh? Anyway, please give us some privacy. Take the others with you.”
“Fucking elusive water,” Melon said hoarsely standing at the edge of it and touched its surface fearfully with a paw. “Nice, but dangerous!”
“That’s too many carcasses to be trophies, not to mention too fresh,” Ralnor argued but backed away.
These creatures hadn’t died ages ago. The bone was sturdy and not brittle from sun exposure. The size of it impossible to fathom.
He walked to the nearest now fully revealed building, a two story stone Zilan design that was missing part of its roof, but had plenty of shade inside.
“What’s an Arachne?” Toutatis asked and picked the sorceress' top from where Ralnor had left it. He’d carried it with him unwittingly.
Trophies.
“Leave that,” Ralnor grunted and removed his cloak. He wiped his sweaty face with a cloth and then got out to bring their horses in the shade as well. The house had enough room and while it wasn’t a stable at its heyday it had enough space to turn into one easily.
He returned after taking care of the animals and tossed a longer blade to Toutatis. He caught it and twirled around with it playfully.
“This is a shortsword,” Ralnor explained, his voice even though a bit hoarse. “It’s longer than a dagger, or a throwing knife. It has a sturdier blade one can sharpen to perform the duties of the knife and in a tight space it could provide more value than a normal sword.
“Is this a tight space?” Toutatis asked curious.
“No,” Ralnor replied. “But this time, you’ll defend inside the circle.”
With that he stooped and drew a circle with his finger on the sand around the small sandaled feet of the boy.
“Eh, why can’t I go out of it?”
“Because there is no space other than what you have,” Ralnor retorted gruffly and went to pick up a spear.
“Seriously?”
“Next is the axe,” he told him returning whilst flipping the shaft on his inner left wrist over his head and then, rotating his hand nimbly, on the outer part of it. Ralnor let the spear roll on his shoulders lowering his head and when it reached his other arm the assassin lunged forward.
He attacked with the butt of the spear, dropping on a knee to put more force on his shoulder and hit Toutatis on the chest violently. The boy was lifted clean off the sand-covered ancient floor and landed two meters away on his back with a desperate pained cough and remained motionless.
“Ouch,” Rhys commented from the door of the large ruined hall. “I think you knocked him out.”
Ralnor stared at the unresponsive boy for a moment. The next Toutatis gasped and rolled to the side to empty his stomach.
“He’s tough,” he replied. “He’ll never take a spear thrust to the chest again. Why?”
“Fuck’s sake Larn,” Rhys griped not believing he was testing him. “Because you’ll use the steel point next time,” he recited with a pained expression, the memories still vivid. “It doesn’t always work you know. Sometimes people, or stuff sneak up on you.”
“If they do,” Ralnor replied and kicked the retching Toutatis to get him to stand up. He gestured for him to go stand inside his circle again. “Then a small stone could kill you, or a finger.”
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An hour later Ralnor left Toutatis with Rhys to bandage his wounds, nothing too serious of course and returned to the south edges of the buried city where the two females were still bathing in what was now a decent pool of water.
“How deep?” Ralnor asked splashing some on his face and shaven skull.
“Over two meters,” Lithoniela replied and sunk playfully to show him. He grimaced and cursed inwardly for having to play the mature role while they were having fun. Granted the princess needed it to heal her psyche from whatever Grogoceq had done and the sorceress had that in mind, but it was only half the reason for her at most.
Ralnor admired that side of the sorceress character. The subtle ways of offering healing instinctively. Something she had inherited from her mother and probably her -rather famous for it- talented and long dead bigger sister.
While he’d never met her, Rhinariel’s absence was always weighing heavy on Edlenn and her very young then second daughter.
“Ralnor your mood is giving me a headache,” the sorceress moaned sensing his thoughts, thoroughly wet and muddy from her spot at the edge of the pool, with the water stopping just above her comely navel. “You found some bones and a spider carcass, so what? There’s a snake licking my big toe right now.”
“There are no Arachne outside Cydonia,” Ralnor rustled, half of it because he was insulted, the other from arousal at the picture she had painted for him. And while Lithoniela was perhaps not doing it on purpose, the sorceress did to torture him. “Never have been. There was water separating the continents and whoever ‘used’ one, knew to keep an eye on it and not release it in nature. Even if they did, why here? Why in the middle of the desert?”
“We could look—” Lithoniela tried to say, but the sorceress stopped her.
“Listen to me Ralnor,” Aelrindel told him face turning serious, although the mud and leaves covered heavy breasts moving as she breathed on her naked torso, thinned the gravity of the sorceress’ words. “The Arachne can’t procreate. They are spell-forged creatures sure, but I doubt they can swim. My mother had one for years. She practically lived in our atrium in a sense.”
“She?”
“Qerrali,” Aelrindel replied. “They were all females, yay big…” she showed him over the surface of the water. “Elas had one. Ours had been Sintoriela’s first. A gift from Kallister, who had them made somehow. That was way before my time. Anyways, cute little thing, so nervous! Six in total they were. That was it. I think most of them are dead now.”
“That mandible looked like it’d come from a bigger creature,” Ralnor hissed. “Nothing cute about it!”
“Look at how angry he is,” she told Lithoniela. “He hasn’t had sex in ages,” the sorceress whispered in a fake conspiratorial tone.
An insulted Ralnor opened his mouth to argue, feeling his blood boiling, but Lithoniela intervened afore he could speak.
“Maybe they escaped?” The princess argued to stop the conversation from derailing completely.
“How? The place blew up!” The sorceress countered and splashed out of the pool frustrated. A water viper followed after her a moment later, but stayed docile near her feet hissing. “We stopped here to rest and rejuvenate our skin and weary bodies. The sun can be harmful in big doses.”
“Dar Minuet Bol talked of the surviving Circle and Dar Nym,” Ralnor replied trying to keep his tempers in check.
Centuries of training couldn’t prepare one to remain calm around ‘sweet’ Aelrindel.
“Nym?” Lithoniela asked following the sorceress out of the water. While she had most of her outfit on, she was equally enticing to Ralnor’s eyes. She paused in front of him thoughtfully. “That’s what my mother called Aenymriel in private. She was always so formal it stayed with me,” Lithoniela murmured, her hard small nipples pressing at her soaked top and a warmth emanating from her in waves.
Ralnor gulped down slowly, blinking once, his mind too numb to process the information.
“Lith,” Aelrindel said soothingly. “Stop it.”
“Ah,” Lithoniela gasped and blushed fiercely. She stepped back and looked away. “Apologies master Ralnor.”
“There’s no need for that,” he croaked still feeling her influence strong. “I’m available to be used princess.”
“Aww, such strong vibes here,” Aelrindel gushed happy they were all getting along. “Let’s all come together tonight under the moonlight. It’s as good a place as any.”
“Nym,” Ralnor rustled glaring at her.
“Aenymriel was Elas’ sister,” the sorceress explained rolling her eyes. “She was mad as a hat. An ugly disturbed and useless thing.”
“She was working in the palace. Always came after council meetings,” Lithoniela argued. “My mother was sending her all over the realm on errands.”
“Nym is a female?” Ralnor murmured still too shocked and affected to pay attention to the princess’ words, or look at her.
“What was her role in the palace?” Aelrindel asked, unbothered by Lithoniela’s aroused state, or her own complete nakedness.
“Nothing nefarious. She was a surveyor,” Lithoniela replied.
“Hmm,” Aelrindel said thoughtfully and stooped to pick up the snake. It slithered up her forearm and coiled around her neck. “Stay there, it’s cooling,” she ordered the dangerous serpent to normal folk, afore turning to the waiting and despite the nearby water’s presence, sweating Ralnor. “How did I miss her?”
“Were you in the palace?” Lithoniela asked and that seemed to wake the sorceress up.
“Once, very briefly,” Aelrindel replied. “Perhaps that explains it.”
“I didn’t even know she existed,” Ralnor grunted. “If Nym is there now then we’re in danger.”
Would Reeves have allowed her near him?
Does he even know?
“She would never harm me,” Lithoniela said.
Yeah, I’m not as sure.
“She’ll harm her though,” Ralnor replied instead. And me, if I don’t get to her first. Now, he had a target. After so many years getting hunted, Fae O’ Elum finally gets the opportunity to hunt his pursuers.
Kill them all.
Oras has spoken.
“I’ll handle her another way,” Aelrindel said interrupting his murderous thoughts.
“Bol said the Circle is still active that means Dar Fenog or even worse Dar Draug could still be breathing,” he grunted putting the situation into the proper context for her.
Sometimes she needed to be reminded of the rest of the world and its workings. Well that, or a boot in the arse.
Aelrindel's face turned pale and the viper raised its compact wedge-shaped dark green head and hissed warningly at them.
“Who are they?” Lithoniela asked and walked near the upset sorceress.
“Witnesses from the day her mother died have long claimed three assassins had entered Nesande’s Garden that day under disguise. Bol, Varg and Din. Nym’s lieutenants were always five like the basic elements. Bol was like the breeze of air striking from afar, Varg was one with the earth and nature, Din was ever fluid on his approach like water and Dar Eherdir who was like the Aether. Never there.”
“The fifth was you?” Lithoniela asked calmly.
Ralnor grimaced knowing what she was thinking. “I had a contract. It’s how the Guild works. I’ve done work for your mother as well.”
“You lied to me,” Lithoniela said turning cold.
“I didn’t,” Ralnor replied angry with himself and Aelrindel for lulling him into a trap.
That’s why you keep your darn mouth shut and don’t talk. Oras Hells! A gossipy Silent Servant is perhaps good at parties but useless as an assassin.
And probably not long for this realm.
“Reeves survived,” Aelrindel intervened. “The fault lies with me. I did have a quarrel with his family, but decided to follow your suggestion and forget the past. You should perhaps do the same princess.”
“Have you really though?” Lithoniela asked her accusingly. “Forgotten about the past?”
“I try your highness truly,” Aelrindel hissed her eyes narrowing. “Your mother had mine killed. I’d say it’s a bit more serious than an attempt on a cute human’s life!”
“A friend!” Lithoniela snapped blushing.
“My mother!” Aelrindel snapped back and tossed the nervous viper away in anger.
When has that Reeves fool turned cute in their talks? Ralnor wondered with a frown.
What is this fresh malarkey?
“Who was the fifth member?” Lithoniela asked with a pout matching that of the sorceress, who was shockingly sucking on the bloody bite marks left on her tanned forearm in the meantime, apparently to get the poison out.
Eh.
She had developed an immunity to most poisons after playing with them for centuries, so it wasn’t alarming.
Probably.
“Dar Nalta, the fiery light. The lit fire, or glittering reflection,” Ralnor replied hearing the clanging of blades on the mirror surface of the Circle again with a shiver. “But it never left the Circle.”
“A physical place?”
“I don’t know. I think so,” Ralnor murmured and turned to look at her.
“Back in Cydonia?”
“Yes.”
“Then he’s dead. Or she,” Lithoniela said thoughtfully. “Right?”
“So is Bol,” Aelrindel reminded them. “You could be wrong about the other two.”
“That’s not the point,” Ralnor retorted and turned to her in frustration, a huge white-grey spider lowering itself over the sorceress silently cutting his words short abruptly.
“What—?” Aelrindel gasped a little concerned seeing his face, then the steel peleg he now held in his hand.
“Arachne,” Ralnor hissed in a warning low voice his eyes on the creature. Easily the size of a wagon, so nowhere near ‘yay big’ as she had told them. “Don’t move a muscle.”
The sorceress of course did the exact opposite thing.
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Ralnor returned to their commandeered ruined building, about three kilometers away from the springs, two hours later with the two silent females in tow. He sported a huge gash at the side of his neck, slowly healing and his leather armor was damaged where the Arachne’s foreleg had stricken him. His chest still hurting.
He tossed the head of the Arachne in the middle of the sand covered floor and Caruso who was resting using a saddle for a pillow jumped on his feet with an unmanly yelp and run ten meters away to the other wall of the spacious abandoned ruin.
“That’s not food fuckface,” Melon commended opening an eye, afore returning to his nap.
Rhys smacked his lips and stared at his old trainer, while a curious Toutatis used a dagger to work on the severed and still leaking foul fluids smashed head.
“It’s an Arachne,” Lithoniela explained and Caruso retorted still standing well away.
“There’s more of it?”
“That’s only the head.”
“Fuck… apologies Lady Lith, but god darnit… fucking hells!” Caruso could barely speak, shivering all over. “That’s a huge… huge! Spider… by the allGods, I hate spiders!”
“It’s an Arachne,” Lithoniela corrected him.
“Looks like a spider to me!” Caruso shrieked on the verge of panic.
“It smells foul,” Toutatis commented, sniffing at his dagger. “There are more of them?”
“Absolutely,” Ralnor replied and glared at the pouting sorceress. She had almost gotten him killed. Again. He had to shove her out of the way and the Arachne rushed him instead. Had he not gotten it between the compound eyes with the first chop, Ralnor would be in the beast’s stomach now. Or sucked dry out of fluids and left for the babies.
“That’s not a female,” Aelrindel protested a little embarrassed for being proven wrong afore an audience. “It’s not a magical creature.”
“Fuck does that mean?” Caruso asked still rattled. “Pardon the hoarse language miladies, but I’m under a lot of stress here!”
“So… more of these gnarly creatures,” Rhys started, seeing the bigger picture. “Are roaming the ruins?”
“Aye,” Ralnor rustled still glaring at the sorceress.
“I panicked,” she griped and then added accusingly. “Your warning sucked!”
“I told you not to move!”
“Wow, she got you all rattled up Larn?” Rhys asked with a smile. “All them training lessons, eh,” the half-breed assassin added as if he knew what he was talking about.
It would be nigh disturbing if his pupil knew something Dar Eherdir didn’t.
Ralnor breathed out in frustration. “We need to get out of here.”
“Males can’t procreate,” the sorceress insisted unwilling to admit she was wrong on this one. “What you see here is a monster, but I found no threads spreading. It’s just a creature out hunting.”
“Alright, I like her a lot,” Rhys admitted with a grimace. “But I don’t understand what she’s talking about Larn, which has me concerned. I want to know with what the fuck we’re dealing here. Unknowns can kill ye fast in our line of work.”
“That’s not a line of work I’m prepared to entertain!” Caruso growled. “I’ve enough dealing with the other thing!”
“I don’t care about the how,” Ralnor replied. “I care about the now. We have a problem. Two more can be dangerous, but I sense a lot more are lurking about.”
“What was it doing at the springs?” Rhys asked.
“Came for water I suppose.”
“We did restart the oasis ecosystem in a sense,” Lithoniela added to his words. “Fauna will return.”
“Milady with all the respect and admiration, there’s fauna and then there is that thing,” Caruso argued shivering, still keeping his distance. “Let’s burn it, just to be sure.”
“If there are more,” Aelrindel griped stubbornly. “Then they stay in the dark, or underground. A cellar, or a cave.”
“Now this I get,” Rhys said scrunching his jaw. “And I must say I don’t like where it is going at all?”
“Do you really want to go looking?” Ralnor grunted.
The sorceress shrugged her shoulders. “I want to see their female. This shouldn’t be happening. Melon can’t procreate—”
“I can fuck plenty pillow tits!” Melon blasted her and jumped to his feet. Sniffed at the large severed head and hissed. “Good grief that’s nasty. Count me out pussies! This cat is staying in the sun.”
“It’ll be dark soon,” Rhys reminded him.
“Well, suck my hairy dick furless dude, but not with those fangs,” Melon retorted and eyed the assassin with a half-decrepit face, still showing the burns he’d suffered. “I’ll stay with the horses. Throw them under the wagon if it comes to that,” he turned to the silent horses at the far edge of the hall. “Sorry long mugs, but I’m afraid your lives just aren’t worth that much.”
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Toutatis stood atop the cracked ancient wall and waved with his small arm at Ralnor who was atop another building and was staring down the empty street. The sorceress spell had attacked the desert in a large part of the buried city near the springs and cleaned some of it away. It had carved out the old streets again and revealed some of the still standing sturdier buildings. There was still sand inside and everywhere else really, softer gusts slowly bringing it back. In months the desert would be back, unless nature managed to rebuild the barrier near the springs. If it did then some life would be back in Lebesos.
The city though just couldn’t be saved.
And life is already here, Ralnor thought his eyes on Aelrindel standing in the middle of the large street chanting. He closed his eyes, the city silent as if listening to the words spoken in the old Witch’s Tongue and the night equally still, but for the short gushes of air.
Move with the breathing wind, Nym whispered in his ear the words he heard inside the Circle. A baby’s voice, then a grown woman’s. Move when the branches creak and when the leaves whistle. Move when the crickets chirp and the owls hoot. Counted strides like the notes on an ivory flute, hushed comes death at night, clad in a slayer’s suit…
Following a spider’s route.
A ball of pure white light shot twenty meters up released from the sorceress’ hands and hovered over that part of the ancient city. Ralnor opened his eyes slowly, dark and grey turned to the bright yellow of the ruins and the sands. The pink on the marble columns and the grey and blue of the statues. Gold and silver. And white with dotted red lurking where once shadows ruled.
Repeated clanging was heard. Many sharp keratinous feet stabbing at the mostly cleaned of sands tiles. Like steel blades now that the protective layer had been removed and something flickered in his numb mind, like a buried horrified memory.
Buried, or scratched out of his brains with a scalpel.
Ralnor rolled on the edge of the rooftop, metal crossbow in hands aimed low. He breathed out gently, his eyes on the slowly emerging white-bodied Arachne pouring into the street. Their numbers staggering.
He glanced across to Toutatis and blinked seeing another giant eight legged creature approaching the boy. Toutatis returned his stare with a grimace and a tiny warning gesture, whilst remaining perfectly still.
The boy had spotted it.
Ralnor slowly turned his head around and glanced behind his own back. Sure enough a two meter tall Arachne was standing there, chelicerae clicking once warningly.
“SPEAK TO ME!” Aelrindel cried out from down the street and Ralnor flinched, a drop of sweat slowly running down his left brow. The Arachne twitched nervously at the vibrations of the sorceress’ voice. It moved sideways looping around the knelt assassin.
“WHERE IS YOUR WISE MOTHER, OH YE BROODS OF THE WEB?” Aelrindel sang lyrically even louder.
Fuck’s sake doll, Ralnor cursed inwardly and the nervous Arachne moved again twice as fast the other way. The looping maneuver bringing it closer to him.
TAK-TAK-TAK.
Oras Hells and witch’s visions.
“Ana e Iliwe Sulwao,” Aelrindel insisted from the street, now surrounded. “A Na-Marie. Etsen Vanwa Naina Silome! Vaktele O’ In Ithil, Opo Lein Lasta!”
What? Ralnor gasped and the Arachne made to lunge to get him whilst distracted, Dar Eherdir’s steel bolt disappearing into one of its compound red eyes putting an end to that. The Arachne dashed with a drawn out hiss right, but Ralnor was already traveling mid-air, landed on its turning hairy back and stabbed both his shortswords into its neck repeatedly.
One, two.
Again.
In a cycling butchering rhythm.
Eat steel you foul beast.
“They’ll talk,” an excited Aelrindel said from the street stopping him -sort of. “Don’t do anything silly now.”
Ugh.
A heavy breathing Ralnor glanced at Toutatis, the boy gave him a thumbs up with one arm, the other flipping its dagger expertly to keep its Arachne distracted and Ralnor slowly sunk down disappearing from the boy’s field of view, as the injured creature died under him and its hairy long legs gave out.
“There’s a brood mother here,” an animated now unseen sorceress cried from beyond the raised lip of the rooftop and a covered in gluey green and orange insect gore Ralnor grunted, but remained otherwise silent.
‘To the Heavens above our greetings,’ the talented witch had said earlier. There wasn’t a creature breathing she couldn’t communicate were the legends. Or find a way to do it. ‘Ever be well. Forget past laments this night! Trade with the Moon, before thy sight!’
And the Arachne had.
[https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC5_kE26GmFyw3PIv5L7egqclxChGV5P2NV4mRex9IMdJ8N2cIX3keQYyJQW2nAKmN7nwUEbcWO6kMg5pumwcaQpR68JZlAGRgk29mja7DCtTV8coquYgfOeFbhG5-N7D_v7XJZBHESWcZrjhQCJSirAR38oBOQWYrkIfF4uHjWmY0_oBJ4ex0daoOVvE/s4096/Arachne%20inkv2.jpg]
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END OF WINGS O’ FATE | PART II
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read it at Royalroad : https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/46739/touch-o-luck-the-old-realms
& https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/47919/lure-o-war-the-old-realms
Scribblehub https://www.scribblehub.com/series/542002/touch-o-luck-the-old-realms/
& https://www.scribblehub.com/series/547709/the-old-realms/