Chapter 25 Death.
Death is swift, a sudden knife in the back.
Death is slow, a disease that kills within a long year.
Death is freedom, a release from this worldly pain.
Death is horrifying, an end to life and joy.
Death is rejection, of every ‘what if’ you can think of.
Death is acceptance of what’s to come for us all.
Tiyadi, the Silver Lord of Time.
“Run! she’s going to kill you!”
What?! Why?! I stare at Master’s Rushmia back, confused.
It doesn’t matter I can’t let her kill me. I can’t run either, I doubt I could get away from that twisted red witch.
"Coming dear?" She asks with a smile, as if she doesn't harbor any ill intent toward me.
There’s only one solution…
Instead of running away, I approach master Rushmia as if I’m about to walk right by her side. She turns, satisfied. The words of Master Navaro repeat in my head as I edge closer to her. ...A full mage, if you catch one off guard, even you can kill them. It’s more important to work on your awareness rather than the number of patterns you can conjure.
I place my hand on her back, forming my six mana patterns for a silent 'Kinetic Burst'.
A bubble of clear liquid forms around master Rushmia, burning my hand in sizzling acid.
Automatic defensive spell?! No time! I press my hand through the liquid. It feels as if my hand is dipped in molten lava, but it doesn’t matter. I form the last pattern before she can react. Myrsha ritsa!
With a sucking noise, a large bloodied cavity forms in her back. Master Rushmia turns, blood trickling down her chin. Her wide red eyes stare at me, baffled. She holds onto my burning wrist and mumbles something unintelligible. Then, her eyes roll in their sockets, eyelids flutter, and she collapses like a puppet without strings.
With a sizzling sound, the liquid that surrounded her falls to the ground, mixing with her blood and the wilting red flowers.
That's it?! It can't be that easy! I reach for her head, to destroy it too, and then notice that my right hand is limp, I can no longer feel it. A wave of excruciating pain right above my elbow makes me gasp. I twist as if it would relieve the pain, and the world stops for a moment of pure agony. I catch myself right before I stumble.
I’m panting, beads of sweat and goosebumps form all over my body. I give my hand a hesitant look. I can see that my black sleeve is gone, and anything from my elbow down had turned into a white wet bone, hanging lifelessly from my corroded flesh above. My heart beats loudly in my chest. I can’t go back to the tower for healing now!
Rushmia is a still lifeless corpse on the ground, she doesn't move a muscle. Did I just... I killed her... how was it so easy? All I had to do was surprise her... she didn't expect me to suddenly attack her and that was it... automatic defense, yes, but as long as I can go through that... this is another weakness for mages, I should keep it in mind!
An odd creature rises from the red witch’s corpse. It looks like a bald slender boy of ten springs. He has six gigantic dragonfly wings flapping lazily on his back. His skin is orange and he has an odd pair of black runes on his forehead. “Wush mom mis! Mak bal!” He says to me in a heavy bass voice and disappears in a cloud of brown smoke.
“MARISHA!!!”
Janara screams with pure rage as she rushes toward me, vengeance of a wounded animal in her eyes. “Kusharisa!” A stream of clear liquid leaves her hand, making its way toward me.
“Myrsha samir!”
I should kill her too! I should! Should, maybe, but I can’t… She’s my friend, she’s grieving, she’s not thinking straight… And I don’t want to lose another friend…
She also just saved my life with her warning… I owe her for that...
“Stop it!” I call out. “This woman had put us through hell! Are you really willing to kill me for her?!” I shout in pain as I retreat.
Janara stops. She looks at her hands with tears in her eyes. “No… I shouldn’t have told you! She… She took care of me. And you killed Purson! Oh, Koshavi it’s all my fault!” Janara collapses on the ground, she hugs herself, crying.
“I didn’t kill Purson! Would you really believe I’d sacrifice him after all we’ve been through?!” I ask and feel empty as I say those words, a part of me knows I would’ve killed him to save myself if I had to. But! ”I didn’t sacrifice him! I didn’t put him between me and danger! Oshi did that! You’d see that too if you had just gotten your head out of your damn ass already!” This hurts so much! I don’t even have a healing potion to numb this, it's all back in the tower, fuck!!!
She looks at me, then at the dead woman at my feet. “I don’t care! He went out there because of you! Kolag didn’t even want our help, you convinced everyone to come with!”
I should kill Janara too! Stupid bitch! “He made his own choice, I didn’t force him to come. None of us knew what we were getting into. If you want to blame someone blame this bitch!” I point at the corpse of Rushmia with my healthy left hand. Even the movement of my healthy hand sends a pulse of sheer torment through my right arm, drenching me in cold sweat. “She’s the one who sent Kolag on this task as some sort of an experiment! She knew we all went there, she knew what is going on in that village, and she could’ve stopped us!”
“She took care of me when no one else did… And Purson… Purson was always there for me… You’re a killer Marisha. A cold-blooded killer, and you need to be to stopped!”
“I can’t deny that. I am a killer, and I don’t want to kill my friends. But I will kill you if you give me no choice, so please just let me go.”
She keeps looking at the dead woman on the ground. The corpse lies in a circle of wilted black flowers in the middle of the red poppy field, blood sipping into the mud and the withered plants. “I can’t! You’ve killed the love of my life, and now you’ve killed my master. Someone who was like a mother to me… I know she was a psychopath, but she looked after me! She provided me with protection in that damned deathtrap of a tower, what am I supposed to do now?! Uh?! They’ll eat me alive out there!”
I laugh mirthlessly, but it comes out of my mouth as a painful cry. “Funny... you got my master killed too you know, Navaro? He was my master...”
“But that monster raped you and...”
“He didn’t do anything to me!” I interrupt her angrily and wince. Just stop this pain! “He just asked me to tell others that he’s doing all those things because he didn’t want anyone to target me to get to him! I know you tried to help, but you didn’t! Just like I tried to help Kolag, and made the situation worse…”
"How was I supposed to know that?!" she protests.
"And how was I supposed to know what kind of monstrous mage was waiting for us in that village?!"
She narrows her eyes at me with suspicion. “Is that why you got Purson killed?”
“For the thousandth time! I didn’t get Purson killed! Oshi did that!” This is getting on my nerves... Getting on my nerves?! My nerves are dead by now… literally... I chuckle, finding irony amidst the pain. I just need to pass out somewhere… and stop this pain… dying would be good…
No… I will live! I’ll make it through this! They’ll send people to kill me from the tower… I’m not walking out of this alive… No! I will! I will find a way! Somehow! I am not ending up in one of those crystal cubes drowning naked in front of people! I won't!
Janara averts her eyes downward, defeated. “What am I supposed to do now?” She whimpers.
“Come with me. I’m going to escape, we all wanted to escape remember? Just join me...”
She laughs bitterly. “Do you take me for a fool?! Do you want to put me between you and danger too?! We both know you’re going to die, we both saw the bounty missions on the board. We both know what they're doing to apprentices who..." her lips twists "Waste resources pha! They’ll hound you, they’ll keep sending apprentices and neophytes after you, maybe even a mage… And one of them will eventually capture or kill you… yeah… you’re going to die anyway. I don’t need to dirty my hands with you. Go! Live the rest of your miserable short life in fear Marisha! Let justice run its course. I hope you die a miserable death. Maybe I'll even get to watch it.”
Ouch… harsh… I guess I don’t have to consider you a friend anymore huh? The world is on fire, the pulse of pain in my arm spreads through my body, and my heart beats loudly in my ears. I can’t take this pain anymore! Rushmia should have a healing potion on her… I turn to Rushmia’s bloodied half melted corpse, I frantically search through her belts and pockets, looking for anything that could help me with the pain. Janara watches me silently.
A relief washes over me when I find a healing potion. I gulp the fishy liquid like it’s the last bottle of water on Lukam. The pain goes away, turning into a throbbing itch. I sigh in relief, an itch is much better than that pain…
I look at my arm. The corroded flesh is covered with new skin, but my arm doesn’t grow back. My skeletal right hand hangs from the healed stub. I exchanged my hand for my life… it’s worth it… not if I die... but I'm not dead yet. I'm going to survive and run away!
I take Rushmia’s purse, it contains an unknown amount of magical gems. Her pouch with 2 more healing potions, two other potions that look valuable. A silver amulet with a topaz embedded in it that she wore around her neck, and a wand that I have no idea how to use. Might fetch me some good money… I’ll need it to survive.
Janara snatches the necklace and wand out of my hand, she puts the necklace around her neck wordlessly. I don’t stop her, it’s not my place, and there’s no point fighting about it.
I go toward the carriage, ignoring Janara. The shaved driver raises a scrawny finger in my direction, shaking violently. “Y-y-you d-don’t know w-w-w-what you j-just d-did!”
I ignore him. I might’ve eliminated him as a witness, but I somehow know it wouldn’t help. The tower will have ways to find out what happened here… might buy me some time? No, I can’t make myself kill Janara anyway… I'm not going to murder innocent people for the slight chance that I might live longer.
I detach one of the horses and attempt to mount its back with one hand and no saddle. Annoyed, I find a saddle at the trunk of the carriage and saddle the horse slowly.
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The work is difficult with a single hand, but at least it doesn’t hurt anymore. This is something I’ll have to get used to, I no longer have the resources of the tower to provide me with easy healing…
After a brief moment of indecisiveness, I release the second horse and slap it to run away with my healthy hand. If I want to buy time, it’s better to delay their way back, it might help.
I mount the remaining horse and hurry it along the road. I have to escape this place, and the more distance I put between me and the tower the better.
*
{27} Lokamesh (May) the 24th
I ride throughout the night and the next day. The only stops I make are in order to take care of nature’s needs.
The view around me hasn’t changed. Fields of flowers stretch out from both sides of the paved road.
The type of flowers does change. From poppies to anemones to lavenders, and from lavenders to belladonnas, then weirdly enough, a field covered in nettle.
The road is surprisingly empty, and other than a few workers who plant flowers in those fields, I don’t see a single soul.
By noon, I reach a crossroad. The signs have markers that use multiple languages, I recognize the familiar Toml’a runes on the third set of signposts.
East: The Sapphire Tower 55km.
Looking back, I can still see the thick blue pillar disappearing between the clouds in the distance, even from 55 kilometers away.
North: The Shimmering tops 80 km, Numila 135km, Kresh city 220km.
West: Axero city 70km, the Great Emrisor tree 75km, Sha’ashbash swamp 130km, Araki wastes 250km.
South: Sayanum 130km, Luepad 200km.
Where should I go? I stare at the signs with multiple strange names I've never heard about, then make up my mind. Axero city, it’s both the closest and westward away from the tower itself… if I keep riding like that I might make it tomorrow… My horse won’t make it, I need to let it rest for a bit… I can use some rest myself.
I look down at my sweating stallion, I can tell it reached its limits. I also reached my limit of riding for so long without food or rest. I am hungry, tired, and sore. But I don’t have much of a choice, nor do I see any source of food or water. I didn’t exactly prepare for this journey.
I get off the horse - something I struggle to do with a single hand - and lead it westward on foot. Walking is difficult. My hips hurt from the long ride, and my back is sore. I am not in the best physical shape, and I had no idea how tiring it can be to ride for so long, but at least now I have the experience.
The cool breeze lifts my hair. The fields of nettle on the sides of the road are slowly changing for fields of rose bushes which are in an early stage of blooming, along with grapevines in between. By nightfall, the fields disappear, replaced by grassy hills.
The sound of jovial music and merry-making attracts me like a dizzy moth to a flame. A large group of people camp at the side of the stony road. They look like some sort of traveling circus. They have food that gives out a mouthwatering smell. They have a fire. And they probably have a spare bedroll and some empty space in one of their carriages, which is much better than sleeping under a thorny rose bush.
Not to mention, it’d be easier to hide in such a crowd. And with that idea in mind, a rumbling stomach, and a sore body; I head for the jovial camp.
“Ohy kelyokan, ateni ameso wu?” A bald man with a spear in one hand and a torch in the other address me when I approach the large camp. However, I can’t make out a single word. It’s not Toml’a, my native language. Nor is it Myrsha, the magical language of gravity which I am vaguely familiar with by now.
“I am sorry, I can’t understand what you’re saying…” I apologize awkwardly in Toml’a. I don't expect any of these people to speak an incantation language.
His eyes move over me as if assessing me, and linger over my boney hand. I instinctively shift in an attempt to hide it behind my body. “Atakenki? Asno vass sakoli? A’arkalu? At tomma?” he asks again expectation in his brown eyes.
“Toml’a,” I affirm with relief after hearing something resembling the name of my language. I figured he was most likely asking what kind of language I spoke.
He nods and makes a hand gesture I am not familiar with. He turns around and shouts something into the camp, I hear the word ‘Tomma’ a few times.
After a few moments of laughter and dismissing tones, a brown-eyed middle-aged woman approaches us. “I speak Tomr’a, little very,” she says, pronouncing words with an odd accent. “Mine name is Medina, what shall you look for in us camp?”
“I’m looking for a place to spend the night. I will pay you for sharing your meals and fire with me,” I offer. It feels much better than sleeping on my own. Of course, I am going to sleep tying my money to my hand. Nothing stops them from robbing me blind after all.
The woman tucks her long black hair behind her ear and shouts something in her language into the camp. After a few loud merry cheers from the crowd, a large tanned man with a long dark beard replies in a calmer deep voice. The woman turns to me and translates his word. “Money need not, only a story, we welcome you near us fire.”
She has a bright smile on her face that reaches her brown eyes, it reminds me that there are good people out there. That is unless they’re cannibals who lure their prey like that… I’d feel better if they just let me pay, but I am not going to argue over a free meal ticket. I’m desperate enough to take my chances…
“Thank you!”
As the man with the spear takes my horse’s reins and leads it to the rest of the horses, Medina leads me to their fire. It’s warm, and the smell of roasted meat awakes my sense of starvation. I need to eat!
All of the people around the large fire - Whether sitting or standing, men or women, young or old - go quiet the instant I sit there. I find it odd and cover my skeletal hand awkwardly in order to avoid the looks.
The large bearded man speaks slowly, and Medina translates for me.
“Tubashi. Us leader. Request share the story of your hand with us, tribute for meal we give. We Muahni people. We collect stories, and your hand must hold a joyful very story behind it.”
I am pretty sure the tanned woman meant ‘entertaining’ when she said ‘joyful’, otherwise she’d be outright insulting, but I don’t mind. These people are willing to share their fire and bed with me, might as well give them my life story.
Enough farmers saw me on the road anyway, and the tower’s people will be after me either way. I will probably even put these people at risk… that’s not something I can do anything about…
I’m sorry… I apologize inwardly.
The least I can do is tell them and let them decide whether to let me stay or not…
And if they kick me out? Then I’ll have to sleep under a bush and hope for the best…
And with that, I begin telling my life story. How my father’s mansion was raided, how I was sold to slavery. The tower, and everything I went through at the tower. The friends I’ve made. Rushmia’s cruelty. The death of my father and friends, and at last, Janara’s betrayal and the death of the red witch.
It may have been foolish to tell them the last part, but they deserve to know that I am being chased. They are good people and putting them blindly at risk feels wrong, even if I need their help.
During most of my tale, Medina translates my words to the rest. From her tone, demeanor, and the way the crowd reacts, I can tell she’s making it sound way more dramatic than I tell it.
In the last part, the woman translates straight to their leader in a worried tone. But he just nods his head in dismissal, saying a pair of sentences I don’t understand.
“Tubashi say. We not change us ways. Everyone are welcome in us camp. You only pay with a good story. Tubashi say. If your pursuers come, we not intervene and give you to them,” Medina translates for me.
I nod my head in thanks. I can’t expect them to protect me with their lives. I only want company, food, and a bed for the night. Tomorrow, I’ll be on my way at my own fast pace.
After my story is over, the camp returns to its jovial mood. People are drinking, eating, laughing, singing, playing their instruments, and dancing. An old wrinkly woman with a kind smile hands me a wooden bowl with grilled meat, and I inhale the food at a rapid pace. She chuckles and hands me another, and one more.
Medina translates some of the small talks around the fire and tells me about some of the people there.
“Little Ara ask. Your hair is ahemm… how you say not true color?” Medina attempts to translate the question from a young raven-haired girl who eyes me passionately.
“Dyed?”
“Yes! Your hair is dyed? Or is true color?”
“This is the natural color of my hair. Do you want to touch it?” I ask the tanned girl.
After Medina translates my answer, the fifteen years old nods and feels a flock of my hair. She leaves and joins a group of giggling teenaged girls.
“Old Gushka ask. You have everything? You want sleep in her cart tonight?” Medina translates the words of the old wrinkly woman who keeps handing me the food.
“Thank you Gushka. I’d be happy to.”
Ara leaves her group of friends and shouts something. The wrinkly old lady chuckles and replies in their strange tongue.
Medina translates. “Ara invite you to sleep with young girls in cart. Gushka say young girls won’t let you sleep.”
Her Toml’a is getting better… ”Thank you, I don’t mind sleeping with the girls.”
A tanned young man intervenes with a couple of words that cause loud cheers from the rest of the men.
“Young Turak ask. You wish to snake and sleep at his cart tonight.”
“Snake?”
“Yes, the joy men and women find together. It bring children with Koshavi’s blessing.”
“You mean sex? Does he still find me attractive with my hand like this?” I point at my skeletal hand.
She translates my question and chuckles at his reply. She then turns to translate.
“Turak say. Your hand is special…. Ahemmm… exotic? Yes exotic is the word. It brings him joy, and his snake hardens when he looks at you.”
I feel the heat on my face from the directness of her words and the fact that we have such a large audience. It’s oddly flattering, and I might die tomorrow, but I’d still rather not sleep with a total stranger… ”Thank you, it’s flattering, but I’ll pass. I’ll sleep with the girls.”
Medina translates my words, and the man winks in my direction and says something as the rest of the men mock him.
“Turak say. If you change your mind, or too shy, you wake him up at midnight. His cart is third on left from the girls’.”
Different cultures, different sensibility... different language too... “Medina. Do the people in Axero city speak Toml’a?” If they speak another language I’m in trouble… I hope it’s just this nomad group that speaks…
“No. People in Axero city speak Sinteo, like us.”
Shit… ”Can you teach me your tongue?”
“Not in one night.”
I sigh and nod. “I know. Just the basics.”
“Aski. Yes of course.”
“Aski means yes?”
“Ki, yes. Aski means yes of course. Ki means yes. Ohy kelyokan, ateni ameso wu. Hello traveler, where hailing are you?”
“Wu means you?”
“Ki, yes.”
“Ameso means hailing? Coming from?”
“Su, no. Ameso means where.”
Right, the sentence order is different too… no wonder she talks weirdly…
“Ohy Muahni gekosha, ateni amesi shil nulimer, Marisha shee mikan. Hello Muahni nomad, hail from I am soundless island, Marisha is my name,” She says with a patient smile.
Oh shit… this language is going to be such a pain to learn… I think as I repeat the words after her.
After listening for a few hours and with the help of Medina - I begin to understand bits of their language, a few words but it’s a good start.
Later that night I receive a bed in one of the carts. I share it with five other young women. They are whispering excitingly to one another in their strange language, and it takes a while until I can finally fall into a blissful sleep.
My sleep doesn’t last very long, the screams wake me up in the middle of the night.
*~*~*
Interlude 25.1
Kolag
Kolag is a fool, he should’ve never confessed his feelings. There’s nothing he can offer to a woman. If not for his own selfishness…
*knock knock*
“In there, metal man?” Lezere’s voice comes from the outside.
“Is she gone?” He asks. He can’t face Marisha right now, he can’t see her gray piercing eyes and tell her to go away. Kolag is a coward, hiding behind a door.
“The twisted shaman took her, I don’t know where. It’s been hours.”
Rushmia took her? That monster in a woman's skin was never up to anything good. She somehow managed to bewitch Janara, and now the poor woman is on her way to become a true monster. This place is corrupting everyone, even Kolag is becoming a coward, a violent, raging coward. If he only held his temper, if only...
He gets up and opens the door. “We should find Janara and…”
Janara walks the corridor up to Kolag and Lezere. Her cheeks are covered in tears, but there’s a smile on her face. The wrong kind of smile, the smile of the insane. Kolag had seen this kind of smile on the face of his sister the day his father died.
Kolag flinches and for once he’s happy his face is covered by metal. Purson’s death is his fault, he owes much to Janara, a debt he can never repay.
Lezere hugs Janara tightly, and Janara cries into the muscular woman’s chest. “I killed her…” She says, her voice muffled.
“Killed who?” Lezere asks holding Janara’s shoulders looking down at her.
“Marisha, I killed her, I killed Marisha! She killed my mothe… master Rushmia, and she killed Purson. I killed her and I don’t regret it! She…”
Blood. Guts. Sweet guts. Wet guts. Stab. Taste. This weakling should bow. This weakling should die.
Kolag doesn’t hear the rest of it, the blood rushes to his head. He tears Janara off Lezere’s hands and punch her as hard as he can. Again, again and again. Janara doesn’t even fight back as he draws his sword and runs it through her body in search of sweet guts.
She gasps, a mad smile plastered on her face as the blood trickles down on her chin.
The walls open, and a pair of guardians come out. Unlike the last time, they wield weapons. Kolag pulls back his arming sword and takes his sentence looking at their gleaming cobalt swords. This is the same metal used for his armor, it can pierce his armor as well as cut off the bronze weaponry with a single swing. But if Kolag is going down, he’ll go down swinging.
Lezere draws her bronze axe with a growl.
“Go Lezere! They’re here for me. You have to live my friend!”
“Choke on your fangs metal man!”
The guardians step closer, the end is nigh.
“That’s enough!”
The sharp voice cuts into the world. The ground freezes, the walls freeze. The guardians freeze, Janara on the ground freezes. Kolag and Lezere freeze. The world freezes.
*~*~*
Power level: 2nd stage apprentice.
Mana pools status:
Crown-knot: Affinity 10:
Neck-Bridge: Affinity 6: formed: max amount of gems drained per day: 66
Abdomen-storage: Affinity 5:
Air: Affinity 4: formed: 18 gems
Fire: Affinity 2: formed: 9 gems
Light: Affinity 3:
Water: Affinity 6:
Earth: Affinity 1:
Wood: Affinity 2:
Gravity: Affinity 9: formed: 41 gems
Cantrip known:
Air: Shavi’s Breeze, Shavi’s Sword.
Fire: Nuriss’ Flame.
Gravity: Lumina’s Kinetic Burst. Tukado’s Repulse. Tukado’s Lesser Shield. Imari’s Minor Telekinesis. Leo’s Pull. Leo’s Grounding. Alino’s Light body. Alino’s Heavy body.
Focus capability: 9 patterns
Social status: An escaped apprentice from the sapphire tower, a wanted criminal.
Wealth: 272 gems.
Items: Two simple healing potions. Two potions with unknown effects.
Companions: X
Injuries and scars: Right hand, bone only from the elbow down, acid burns above the elbow.