X. WHATEVER IT MAY TAKE
Ransom skidded along the blood and mist soaked cobblestone as he rounded a corner. He charged down the narrow street, lined with multi-leveled townhomes and littered with the remnants of a city defense and puddles of filth. He nearly tripped over the curb in his blind haste as he pursued the figure before him. He steadied himself on a windowsill, swearing profusely as the shards of broken glass sliced open his hand. An undead town’s man leapt up from hiding behind the window at the scent of fresh blood. Ransom plunged his sword into the fiend’s face, and continued his pursuit without missing a beat.
He cut a strip of cloth from his cloak and bandaged his hand as he continued his chase. The creature he chased leapt atop a four-story home without the slightest effort. Ransom swore as he slowed to a jog, cursing between labored breaths. Emarosa stumbled her way next to him, doubled over, heaving and nearly vomited from exhaustion.
“Just… just let… let it go Ransom.” She panted and spat as she tried to hold back the bile that threatened to rise.
Ransom swore and punched out one of the remaining windows. “Hurry, we can cut through one of the-”
A clawed paw smashed through the building from behind and a great bear headed behemoth stomped through the debris and exhaled acrid smoke from its nostrils. Ransom raised his sword as the beast clumsily destroyed the neighboring homes. It let out a low groan like a foghorn, and expelled a massive cloud of smoke and embers.
“We should turn back…” Emarosa clutched Ransom’s arm, her eyes wide with terror. “I can have a new rod made.”
“No, what would be the point?” He shook his head. “We won’t get away.”
“Indeed, what would be the point child?”
Ransom spun around and lunged forward to place his sword to the old Morlock’s throat. The old man stood unflinching, a smirk in his eyes as he regarded Ransom with amusement.
“Greetings again young warrior. I see that you’ve become separated from your band. How unfortunate.”
Ransom pressed the blade to the wrinkled throat and debated whether or not he should allow his blade to taste his fetid blood. “Was this you’re doing old man?”
Emarosa reached out to Ransom, but retracted her trembling hand as he shoved the Morlock into a wall.
“Answer me damn it!”
The Morlock laughed and disappeared into a cloud of black and violet smoke, only to reappear from a puddle of viscous black fluid behind Emarosa. She shrieked and Ransom reached over to shield her. The Morlock grinned and laughed all the more at his efforts.
“Fear not child, I have not so much power as to manipulate this situation in my favor. Not to say I did not foresee this turn in events.”
Ransom slowly circled the old man as he guided Emarosa into a doorway. The Morlock watched his every move from his perch on a barricade, his hands folded before him. Ransom glanced up at the beast, it stood immobile, watching him but it made no move against him. It reminded him of a guard dog.
“And having foreseen your plight, I have a remedy for your ailments.”
Ransom stopped dead in his tracks and lowered his sword. Emarosa gasped as she tried to force her way from out of the doorway, blocked by Ransom’s outstretched arm.
“Ransom! You can’t be serious!”
“Enough Emma.”
He glanced down the not so empty streets, undead and shadowy being lay hidden in every doorway and behind every window. Ransom’s eyes came to rest in a glare upon the smug Morlocks decrepit yet smug grin. The Morlock waved at the idle behemoth as it stood amongst the ruin it had made. The creature convulsed, and let out a bone-chilling cry, low and full of sorrow as its body was reduced to ashes. Smog and sparks erupted from its bulging limbs before they exploded in a cloud of ash that ascended to the sky. Ransom sheathed his sword, satisfied by the display.
“I always knew you were an intelligent one.” The Morlock smiled slyly, his tone full of condensation.
“Yeah, and I know everything’s got its price, so what’s yours?”
“I cannot believe you Ransom! I shall have no part in this treachery!” Emarosa spat as she broke away from him. “This is Dusk incarnate! This is--!”
Humanoid figures stepped from the shadows all around them, seeming to appear from nothing. They dropped from rooftops and rose from barrels. They were lithe with gangly arms and dagger like fingers, their skin was blacker than pitch under a starless night sky. Their jaws were row upon row of shark like teeth in mouths too big for their heads. Their bulbous orange eyes held tiny pupils that darted around erratically, and despite not having any emotion, they held hunger and bloodlust their blank stares could not suppress. Emarosa cowered back behind Ransom as the creatures slowly advanced.
“I seek to hire your services.”
“I’ll not fight for you,” Ransom crossed his arms across his chest, “so this threatening gesture of yours is all for naught. Kill us and be done with it if that is your desire.”
“Foolish misguided youth. I understand your concerns of not wanting to turn a sword against your friends or aid in the destruction of mankind.” The Morlock held out his hands in surrender and an attempt to convey his sincerity. “I ally myself with myself, I only know of the man who freed us vaguely, and owe the fool no fealty. I assume it is him you pursue, correct?”
“Then what do you want?” Ransom snapped irritably.
“I am... looking for someone, he reached out to me to request my aid, and I found his proposition intriguing. I am sure you know him; he is incidentally the man you were contracted to find so long ago it seems.”
“How did you--?”
“That is immaterial.” The Morlock held up his bony hand for silence, and opened it in a gesture of welcome. “Will you accept?”
Ransom looked from Emarosa to the Morlock, his horde and back to Emarosa. She shrugged her shoulders in abnegation. He regretted his choice to take that job all the more, two-hundred was hardly worth a quarter as much as he’d been through. He sighed and retrieved a cigarette from his vest. The Morlock levitated a blue flame over to light it for him. He briefly looked up at the frail man, suspicion in his eyes, but quickly disregarded the thoughts as irrelevant at this point.
“The guy’s a priest or something’ if that alleviates your worry some.”
Emarosa turned up her nose in contempt. “Hardly. But it seems I have become bound to you regardless.”
Ransom snickered and took a hit from his cigarette. “So another nun huh? Great.”
“So I take it, will you accept then?” The Morlock rubbed his knobby hands together in anticipation.
“That depends, what’s the pay?”
* * *
Aichlan charged at the massive creature as its tail reached up from the ground behind him. Beside him, Enyo stabbed the creature’s front paw with her blade and sent successive blasts of flame into the wound; the heat was so intense that it melted the stone around her feet. The creature roared and swatted her away with its tail as Aichlan grabbed its pelt and began the task of scaling its massive leg.
Donough created a lance of fire and flung it as he dove at the monster from the sky. The creature swatted at him with its arm like tail; like a snake uncoiling for each successive strike. He barreled through the lightning fast jabs and planted his sword in the monsters face, the impact of which resulted in a hellish inferno.
The ensuing firestorm engulfed the beast, searing flesh and fur. Aichlan yelled in surprise as he was forced to release his grasp or become engulfed in Donough’s conflagration. He swore with his last breath before it was forced from his lungs when his body met pavement. He rolled on his side and clutched his ribs, his head throbbed as the flames starved his lungs of oxygen.
Enyo swiftly ran over and helped him to his feet. He looked up at her in shock, highly disoriented, his vision was blurred and his ears rang incessantly. He wondered why the woman was so pleasant to him, as well as where he was. It seemed that only a month or two earlier she wanted him dead. His ears rang as she attempted to speak to him, he was barely able to discern the movements of her mouth let alone a voice that accompanied it. She gingerly brushed his hair from his face, her hand came back covered in blood and he wondered whether it was his or not.
Enyo suddenly looked back over her shoulder, a look of relief appeared on her weary face. Aichlan looked back to see what she saw, but with his blurred vision he was only able to see a horde of shapes advance upon them. As darkness overtook him, a warm sensation flowed through him, the scent of morning dew and springtime by a forest brook filled his nostrils. A frown crossed his lips as he considered how odd it was, but quickly relaxed as the warm current flowed through him.
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
He felt the sensation of falling from a great height back into his body, which now lay prone and broken on the cobblestone. After several moments, he opened his eyes, and was greeted by Clarissa as she leaned over him, her hair floated on invisible currents as if she were underwater, and a ghostly light emanated from her. She looked quite beautiful.
Aichlan bolted upright, the sounds and sights of battle rushed back to him in perfect clarity. The entire army had fought their way from the port; the street was full of undead and the so-called Sons of Epsilon. Bear faced behemoths decimated the skyline along with the carcass of the demon Donough had slain. Fires blazed all around as the sound of crackling timber competed with the sounds of death and carnage in the near distance. He stood and nearly collapsed as Eth ran up behind him to lend an arm.
“What the hell…?”
“Sorry Aichlan, it’s always disorientating to awake from a head trauma.” Clarissa shouted over the din.
He steadied himself, and flinched as the sound of clashing steel and Clarissa’s cries echoed in his ears. He spun around to see Eth dispatch of a serpent that had snuck up on them. Aichlan feebly raised his own sword, still disoriented as he sought an opponent or a way out.
Eth grabbed his arm and led him through the streets with Clarissa nigh on their heels. He effortlessly slashed through the undead to clear a path for their escape. A riderless horse reared nearby as they passed, it bucked and stomped at the hordes that attempted to encircle it. A flash of violet caught Aichlan’s attention, he turned in time to see several undead erupt into geysers of blood as the silver flashes of a blade danced across the corpses.
Aichlan stumbled over a fallen elf corpse; Eth brusquely lifted him to his feet and did not miss a beat as he shoved the creatures from his path with his massive blade. Aichlan glanced over his shoulder again; the bulk of his army appeared to pursue them at the same breakneck pace.
“Eth! He’s bleeding out of ‘is ears again!” Clarissa cried through labored breaths.
“Damn it…” Eth brusquely lifted Aichlan to his feet as he stumbled again.
It took Aichlan several moments to realize she was talking about him. He pondered as to why there would be blood in his ears, as Eth took his sword and tossed it to a nearby elf without the hint of resistance. He slowed to a brisk walk and hoisted Aichlan over his shoulders. Clarissa slowed as well and put her hand to her heart as she struggled to catch her breath and performed a healing on Aichlan. Ashe jogged over behind them, her hammer stained with blood and brain matter.
“What the hell is wrong with him?”
“Hit ‘is head.”
Ashe slugged Eth hard in the shoulder. “How the hell d’ye let this happen?”
“Ay weren't even there!” Eth shot back.
Aichlan turned to face Ashe, and struggled to stay awake, for some reason he was overwhelmed with fatigue. The rhythmic breathing and motion did little to aid him in maintaining consciousness. As he slowly slipped into sleep, he could not help but think that Ashe looked different for some reason.
“Hé!” Clarissa slapped Aichlan hard across the face. “Réveillez! I told you not to let ‘im go to sleep Eth!”
“Would ye broads get oof me bloo’y back a’ready?! D’ye wanna carry him?”
Aichlan rubbed his jaw; the stinging sensation had already dissipated as weariness overcame him again. Ashe swore as she and Eth slowed to a walk, and eventually came to a stop.
“Aw, what the hell is this now?” Eth shifted Aichlan’s weight to the other shoulder.
Aichlan looked behind him to find their path blocked by over a dozen men on horseback and nearly a hundred standing in loose ranks before them. He could not help but to feel oddly giddy, though the men most likely were not allies. His eyes fluttered as sleep threatened even more than before, bringing with it a hard smack to the face by Ashe this time.
“Daen’t die yet you.” She scolded; fear and tension straining her voice.
“Who the fook are they?” Eth aimed his sword at the group. “Ye lot live or daid?”
“Get down will ya!” Came a gruff response as several of the men on foot raised their bows and took aim.
Eth cursed as he dropped to the ground, Aichlan hit his head upon the cobblestone again and blacked out instantly.
* * *
Aichlan awoke in a shabby war tent, an oil lamp hung from the center of the tent beam. His head was bandaged and cool to the touch. He gingerly touched his forehead, and traced a freezing cold symbol written upon it. The tent was relatively large, though the only furniture was a table and several wooden chairs arranged around it. The bed was a sack packed with straw; the comforter was hand stitched and quite warm in the chill air.
He sat up and discarded his head wrap with a groan as he forced himself to swing his feet from under the covers. A wave of nausea suddenly overtook him, and forced him to retreat under the covers as he waited for the threats of rising bile to subside. The tent flaps opened and Clarissa entered briskly with two attendants carrying trays of hot food and drink.
“Are you awake yet?” Clarissa smiled, as she set up candles around the room. “You have a terrible habit of causing those around you to worry a great deal.”
One of Clarissa’s attendants set an embroidered pillow atop a chair before she sat down, as the other set up the table for coffee and pastry. Aichlan sat up, and fumbled around as he tried to reach his shirt from atop the trunk at the foot of the bed. He was relieved slightly when one of Clarissa’s aides saw his struggle and fetched it for him.
“What the hell happened? Where are we?”
“We’re in the woods just outside of Ophelia. Oh!” Clarissa snapped her fingers suddenly. “We were able to rendezvous with Taryn’s band of ‘warriors’. So far they’ve proven to be nothing more than farmers and drunks.”
“What…?”
“They saw the smoke from when the Colby-Nau razed the city.” Clarissa calmly explained as she held out her cup to be filled.
Aichlan stood and massaged his head, trying to remove the fog that had settled over him. He had no recollection of anything that had occurred, he barely remembered the port. The tent flap swung open again and Ashe arrived, bringing with her a plate of venison and a bowl of herb salad. He perked up a little as the smell of food wafted over to him and steadied himself on the tent pole.
“Well, look who decided to come back. This is what, the second time ye blacked oot on us?”
“How long?” Aichlan staggered over to the table and poured himself a cup of coffee.
“Only a day or two, but ye kept comin’ in an’ outta it though.” Ashe set down the tray and smiled at him. “Ye daen’t remember any o’ that now do ye?”
“None.”
He tore off a chunk of venison; it was well seasoned and smothered in sautéed wild onion and mushroom. He worried it would be too much for his stomach, but it smelled too good to leave alone. The salad was lightly dressed in vinaigrette; his mouth began to salivate as the source of his nausea was revealed to be hunger. He searched in vain for a utensil nearby, briefly considering just using his hands.
“How well did we do?”
He looked up as the tent flaps flung open. Eth entered, followed by Alice and Séverin with his sister in tow. Aichlan took a seat and loaded a tea saucer with meat as Eth and Maleah sat down and dug right in. He growled in annoyance, neither of them had forks or plates. If it were any other pair of moochers and layabouts he would have been genuinely cross.
“Ashe honey; how is it that our quarters always end up being the de facto meeting place for freeloaders and gossips?”
“Good to see you alive and well too Aichlan.” Alice sneered as she took a seat and poured herself a cup of coffee.
“Oi, if it weren’t fer me carryin’ yer arse ye’d be dead and gone back at that light forsaken port.” Eth spat angrily and tore off a chunk of rib as Maleah picked up a slab and bit right in.
“Use a plate!” Clarissa smacked Maleah’s hand with her teaspoon, simultaneously looking to Séverin for reinforcement.
“Maleah, don’t be rude.” Séverin chided.
“I ain’t bein’ rude, I’m eatin’.” Maleah muttered through mouthfuls as she took a tea saucer and sat the slab of meat down.
“Why are you two using my good china?” Clarissa snatched Aichlan’s empty plate, and wiped it off with a handkerchief.
“No plates.” Aichlan hastily grabbed a slab of the quickly disappearing meat. “Eth, thank you.”
“Uhn.” Eth grunted as he took a bite of Maleah’s rib meat.
“Though in essence, you were only doing your fuckin’ job.” he shot back with a smile.
“We lost Ransom and Emarosa, five of Enyo’s fell and six others. Fortunately loses were well within acceptable limits fer such a failure.” Eth reported after chewing over a piece of gristle.
“No casualties are acceptable Eth, though… you are not entirely wrong. Nevertheless, what of Emma and Ransom? How did they fall?”
“They didn’t, at least we don’t think.” Alice added several cubes of sugar to her coffee, yet still made a sour face at the taste.
“Explain.”
“The last we saw of Ransom he was running after something, presumably Arch Bishop Emarosa.” Séverin slowly paced around the table.
“You didn’t see anything brother, you were too busy getting tossed around by that freaky bear faced thing.” Maleah teased.
“But how do you know they yet live?” Aichlan interrupted.
“We don’t, but I do not feel they have fallen.” Séverin stepped forward, shooting his sister a displeased look before he continued. “Ransom is a mercenary, a man who’s struggled to survive his entire life; I seriously doubt he would have succumbed so easily.”
Aichlan pushed his empty cup away, and folded his hands before his face as he digested the recent events and Séverin’s logic. It was true Ransom was a particularly hardy breed of cutthroat, but Emarosa was not, she had spent her life sequestered in palaces and temples. Who was to say he would not abandon her as he had tried with Clarissa to preserve his own life?
“Clarissa, have you no insight on the matter?”
Clarissa quietly sipped her coffee, seeming to ignore Aichlan. The only sounds were Maleah and Eth as they devoured the last of the meat, and Alice’s spoon clinking against the cup as she stirred. Clarissa held up her cup to be refilled, and dabbed at her mouth with a napkin. Several tense moments passed before she finally acknowledged his question, once her cup was refilled.
“I do not. However, I do require a new attendant to stand in until she returns. If she returns. As for dzat cretin, I feel we are so much zee better without ‘im.”
Aichlan wiped his brow, despite the cold air; he had been sweating profusely and caught the look of concern in Ashe’s eyes.
“I think we should continue this later, Aichlan still needs ‘is rest.” Ashe stood and began to usher the group out of the tent. “We can continue this on the morrow.”
“What are you doing Ashe? I still have much to attend to, I still haven’t met with the band that aided us, nor have I gone over--!”
Ashe nodded to Eth; he stood and approached Aichlan, and effortlessly lifted him from his seat. Aichlan squirmed, too shocked to form a coherent protest as Eth dropped him in his bed. Maleah took advantage of Eth’s distraction and bit into the rib he had stolen from her. Her brother smacked the bone from her hand, his eyes burning with a displeased look as she begrudgingly stood up and pushed in her chair.
“We got time gen’ral. I’ll take care o’ thin’s till the mornin’. Ye rest here, can’t lead an army lookin' like a sickly frail whelp ya are.”
The tent had quickly emptied, leaving only Clarissa Eth and Ashe at Aichlan’s bedside. He allowed himself to lie for several moments, and wished for his head to stop swimming. The tent flaps briefly opened again as Maleah popped in to retrieve the last rib, before she darted back out without a word. Aichlan exhaled and forced himself to sit up, only to be shoved back down by Ashe.
“What the hell is the meaning of this?”
“Aichlan, just rest for a day. That’s all we ask is a day.” Clarissa began to glow as she imbued Aichlan with the healing Light of Dawn.
“No, we’ve dallied long enough! We are so close to Marquez, I can convalesce when we reach the King's court and gain his support!”
“This isn’t gonna work.” Ashe sighed. “Put ‘em ta sleep luv.”
Aichlan struggled to get out of bed, but was rendered unconscious by a flash of vermillion light that emanated from Clarissa’s scepter.